“Come on, Alex. Stop teasing me. You know I will be devastated if you don’t move in. I already have your room picked out.”

He smiles up at me and jumps out of the pool. I stand here in silence for a moment and watch as he wipes the water down his firm, tatted chest. I’ve always loved the way his muscles flex whenever he moves. I find it sexy and hypnotizing, especially now that he’s wet. It almost makes me wish that he were just a stranger, with no strong connection, so that I could have just one night to do anything that I please with his body. That would be to have him and no consequences afterward. I never once expected Alex to grow up to be so painfully sexy.

Oh the things I would do to you if I could.

“Well, when you put it that way . . .” He walks over and kisses my forehead while wrapping his arms around my head and squeezing. “How can I say no? Show me to my room.”

“Thank you!” I grab him by his arm and start pulling him through the room excitedly.

He pulls me back a few times to slow me down and catches me when I almost slip. “Careful, Firecracker. I don’t want to have to rush you to the emergency room before I get to see my room.”

I slow down and turn back for my sandals when I realize that they are now in the pool. Screw all that. Then I look down at his black Chucks that are soaking wet and laugh to myself. “Why do you still call me firecracker? I colored my hair red once when I was fifteen.”

He picks up a strand of my hair and examines it. “Your hair has always reminded me of a shiny new penny with all the copper tones in it. Even under all that brown and copper though, there has always been red in your hair. You can only really see it in the sun though. I like it. And plus, your face always turns all red when I tease you. You’ll always be my firecracker.”

I shake my head and roll my eyes. “Oh yeah. Why don’t you just write a song about it.” I tease. “That sounded pretty deep coming from your mouth.”

He follows me down the hall toward the stairs. “Maybe I will. You know I still play my guitar each night. I can’t write songs for shit but for you I would try.”

I stop and he does the same. I look him up and down, standing there shirtless and wet as I try to hold back my desire to kiss him. Our eyes meet for a split second before I pull myself out of my trance, clear my throat, and reach for the railing. “Alright,” I say, changing the subject and my thought process. “Well, there are two rooms upstairs,” I continue, as he follows me up with his hands on my hips for support. “The other one is downstairs and down the hall from the pool and rec room.”

We stop in front of the first door and I reach for the handle, but then stop and smile at him. “This one . . . is not your room.” I head for the back of the hall and his smile broadens, because he loves being teased. “This here is your room.”

He walks past me and pushes the door open. His eyes widen as he takes in the sight before him. “Wow! Did you do all of this?”

He walks over to the wall by the window and touches one of his own favorite drawings that I attempted to paint. Yesterday, I spent the whole day painting music notes and some of his drawings onto the back wall of his room. I even brought his favorite plush pillow that he leaves at my aunt’s house so he can sit on it whenever he plays his guitar for me.

“Yeah. I just thought it would be a nice spot for you to have to play your guitar.” I walk over and open the window. “You can sit here with the window open and play for the cars passing by.”

I plop down onto his pillow—chair—thing. I’m really not sure what to call it. It’s not really any of the above, but a mixture. “Like how you used to when we were teenagers. Do you remember? Right before your mom . . .” I stop myself and clear my throat. “I remember you sitting on your screened in porch by the window, playing all night. I would sometimes drive over late at night just to listen to you play. It helped me sleep better. Actually, you were sitting in that same spot, attempting to play Memphis’ guitar the day we met. Remember?”

He smiles to himself and then grabs my hand to help me to my feet. “Of course I remember that shit.”

He plops down on his huge pillow and pulls me down onto his lap, and then adjusts me to make sure I’m comfortable before speaking. “I was sitting there playing the guitar and I was so pissed off because I kept messing up, so I decided to quit. Then I heard a little voice coming from outside the window say something like, “Please play some more.” I looked out and there you were; the cutest little girl with a penny colored ponytail. It was the shiniest damn hair I had ever seen. My father was gone . . . at work, so I played some more.”

We both laugh as he wraps his arms around my waist and squeezes. “Is that your room down the hall?” He asks with a hint of humor.

I lean my head against his shoulder and smile. “Yes. You know I have to be upstairs. We even get to share a connecting bathroom.” I point to the bathroom door. “That leads into the bathroom and my room is on the other side. We’ll just have to be sure to lock both doors so we know when the other is using it.”

He brushes my hair out of the way before resting his scruffy chin on my shoulder. “Why did you choose for my room to be upstairs instead of Lucas’?”

I twist my neck back to look at him. “Because it reminds me of when we were kids and you used to climb through my window. Hell, I still catch you climbing through my bedroom window instead of using the door. You know Tara doesn’t mind you coming over whenever you want. We are adults now.”

We both stop laughing and look up when we hear footsteps enter the room.

Lucas looks down at us and flashes a half smile. “You two having fun without me?”

I feel Alex stiffen beneath me, and then he helps me to my feet before getting up as well.

“Lucas,” Alex mutters while pushing the pillow back against the wall. “We were just breaking in my room.”

I shake my head and laugh while giving Alex a light shove. I know that it doesn’t bother Lucas, but sometimes I wonder why he makes those kinds of jokes so often. “Shut up, dick-lick.”

Lucas brushes his blonde hair out of his face and nods his head at me with a chuckle. “Dick-lick?” He raises an eyebrow and heads for the door. “That’s a new one.” He stops in the doorway and waits for us to join him. “I see you guys have already taken a dip in the pool. I’m also guessing that she’s talked you into saying yes?”