Filfthy(13)
With puffy red cheeks, she turns my way, her expression fading as she yanks earbuds from her ears and slows to a stop.
“This better be important,” she pants, checking her watch and then placing two fingers on her neck. Dark tendrils of hair are matted to her face and her lips are just as flushed as her face, but she’s hot as hell, and the old me would have no problem peeling off those sweaty layers and having my way with her right here, right now, behind the peonies.
“Haven’t heard from you since the other day,” I breathe. “Haven’t seen you around much either.”
Her brows meet. “I’ve been busy.”
“I felt like my apology was rushed the other day,” I say, pointing to a wrought iron park bench under a tree behind her.
She checks her watch, letting her fingers drop from her neck. Her shoulders fall and she takes hesitant steps toward the bench.
The tinny beep-beep of a golf cart steals our attention, and I glance to the street to find Ethel French putting by. She wears an ear-to-ear grin and gives me an emphatic thumbs up, but I shake my head no.
“What’s that about?” Delilah asks.
“That’s Ethel,” I say. “She saw us at the pool the other day. Thinks we like each other.”
Delilah’s tongue darts out as her nose crinkles.
“Exactly what I told her,” I say, taking the spot beside her. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry if I came across . . . in a certain way. I’ve been going through some things. Trying to make some changes. Ninety-nine percent of the time, I’m surrounded by a bunch of oversized, foul-mouthed meatheads, and none of us have the ability to think before we speak. We tend to rub off on each other . . .”
“Zane. It’s fine.”
Our eyes lock, our breaths coming to near halts. Or maybe it’s me who’s forgetting to breathe. Delilah wears the kind of beauty that should be outlawed. Natural. Inherent. Inside and out. She reminds me of a small town prom queen who never quite figured out what to do with those kind of looks.
But forget about the exterior. Her sass. Her feistiness. That’s what grabs me. She doesn’t want anything to do with me. She’s not throwing herself at me. For all I know, she finds me repulsive.
And for that reason, I can’t bring myself to stop thinking of her.
To stay away.
“I stuck up for you to Aunt Rue the other day,” she says.
My head tilts. “Oh yeah?”
“She called you a child.”
I laugh. “That sounds like Rue.”
“She thinks you’re a filthy football player. And believe me when I say I’m not inclined to disagree with her. I’ve heard stories. Answering the door naked? Peeing on your lawn? Screwing women with your blinds open? Really?”
“I won’t deny I’ve done those things.” My palm glides along my jaw. “But I haven’t in a while. Not since last season ended.”
“Okay, I don’t know when football seasons end, but good for you for making some changes in your life.” Delilah’s arms lift over her shoulders, and she stretches once more as she eyes the sidewalk ahead.
“You sound like a therapist.”
“Th . . . thank you?”
“That’s not a compliment.”
Her mouth parts but nothing comes out for a moment.
“What are you talking about?”
“Good for you for making some changes in your life,” I mock her tone and inflection. “You don’t have to be condescending.”
Her hand lifts to her heart. “I sincerely apologize. It wasn’t my intention to sound that way.”
She moves closer to me, reaching her hand to mine and then stopping halfway to let it go. And it’s a good idea, because I’m not sure I could feel her touch right now and not want a little bit more despite the fact that she drives me up a fucking wall.
Delilah turns back to me. “You know, Aunt Rue wasn’t too happy that you brought me flowers. Almost landed me in some hot water.”
“It’s not like I brought you roses.”
“Still, Zane. It looks pretty bad when she asked you to stay away from me and you show up at her door bringing me flowers.” Delilah laughs through her nose, and I’m starting to think things might be cool between us. “Anyway, I told her she can’t tell people to stay away from me. It doesn’t work that way.”
“I will never bring you flowers again as long as I live. Promise.”
She starts to jog in place. “Smart man.”
“Is this it? You’re leaving?” I ask.
Her eyes widen. “Yeah. I figured we were done here. Did you need something else?”
I lean back, resting my arm along the backrest and jutting my lips. “Not really. We were having a nice conversation and then you just stand up to leave. Just seemed kind of abrupt.”