Page 10 of Tied up in Knots (Gummy Bear Orgy #4)
The house is a two-story mashup of various styles of architecture, I think one is called Victorian, other than that I have no idea.
There aren’t any restrictions when building in Alaska and whoever built the house seemed to have a flare for the unusual.
With one of those pointy witch hat towers and everything.
Now the house sits empty, windows boarded up and paint peeling. The locals have taken it upon themselves to redecorate the interior. When one kid tagged the exterior, someone saw it and the house was off limits for the next six months once the adults caught on to what it was being used for.
“Why do you want to go there?” Bambi asks. Izzy shrugs and pops another barbeque covered curly fry in her mouth.
“Thought it would be one last trip down memory lane. Ya know because Warren’s leaving us forever.”
Izzy gives me an unapproving scowl. I give her one right back.
“What do you say man? You in?” Owen bumps my shoulder with his and I risk a quick glance at Bambi. She looks apprehensive but hopeful.
On any other day I would say yes, so why shouldn’t I now? If I said no, it would be more suspicious.
“Sure. Why not.”
“Sweet. You’re driving.” Owen pushes me out of the booth, and we all set down the same amount of cash we always do that we know will cover our food plus tip.
“What do you mean I’m driving? You know my truck only seats three.”
“It fit all four of us fine in high school. It wouldn’t be a trip down memory lane without all of us piling into your truck.”
It was standard for us all to squeeze into my truck whenever we all went somewhere together. Even though Owen had an SUV that fit five or more people, for some reason we just always went in my truck.
“Well, adult us aren’t going to fit,” I argue.
“Sure, we are,” he smiles and scoops Bambi up with a squeal and loud laugh. “Rae will just have to sit on my lap. Problem solved.”
Hell to the fucking no.
Bambi is not sitting on anyone's lap, especially another guy’s. My pulse picks up and that all too familiar burning jealousy and possessiveness kick in harder than they ever have.
“No, she won’t.” I jog around Owen and snatch Bambi right out of his arms and settle her in mine. That’s better. “You’re driving.”
I toss Owen my keys with the hand behind Bambi’s back and he catches them, a dumbfounded look on his face.
“What? Why? It’s your truck, you always drive,” he argues, still confused how I ended up with Bambi in my arms and the keys in his hands.
“Yeah, well starting next week it’s your truck. So, you should drive.”
I don’t give him time to argue or question my motives. I circle to the passenger side of the truck and slide in with Bambi on my lap.
“You know I could just as easily sit on Izzy’s lap,” Bambi teases.
At least she’s not angry with me. She has every right to be, but I exhale a slow breath of relief knowing she isn’t. She even grins at me.
“Yeah, but do you really want Izzy groping your ass? You know how handsy she can get,” I tease right back.
Bantering with Bambi feels normal, right.
Far better than the odd quiet she was while we ate.
She settles in my lap, and I wrap both arms around her, turning her back to the door and crossing her legs over my lap.
Her thighs rub against my zipper and other parts that make me glad her legs are concealing my growing erection.
Bambi’s arm wraps around my neck and she leans in close, engulfing me with her rose scent.
The tip of her nose skims across my stubbled jaw and I have to force myself not to turn and take her mouth with mine.
That would be hard to explain. Instead, I dig my fingers into her outer thigh and stroke the material of her overalls, imagining the smooth skin hidden beneath.
Izzy scoots into the middle seat from the driver’s side since I didn’t exactly give her time to enter through the passenger side.
Owen follows behind and we all settle in for the short ten-minute ride to the hangout house.
It’s a tight squeeze but not as tight had Bambi not sat on my lap.
We’re all wearing thicker layers as the temperature decreases with every day.
An inner war battles in my chest between wanting to leave before the snow and ice trap me here and hoping it does and I won’t have to leave.
Damnit. Why does Bambi have the worst timing ever?
If she had expressed her feelings for me years or even months ago, things would be very different right now.
But she didn’t and they aren’t and I’m too close now.
I didn’t spend all these years not allowing myself to have her just to give in now.
She’d still be better off with someone else.
We arrive at the hangout house, the sun nearly set on the horizon. We won’t have very much sunlight left. It’s already more of a foggy haze.
When I slide out of my truck, Bambi is still in my arms. I don’t want to put her down, but I have to. Reluctantly setting her on her feet, letting her body glide down the length of mine, relishing in every moment of contact.
“Alright, one last B&E for the road.” Owen grabs the flashlight from my glovebox and bounds for the front door of the house.
The paint has long faded and peeled from its siding, the windows on the first floor remain boarded while most of the second story windows are bare, a few broken.
Weeds grow in the unkempt yard and the gravel driveway has long disappeared.
There’s a detached garage that’s seen better decades and is in even worse condition than the house. No one goes in there anyways.
Someone pried open the front door years ago, the two by fours across the front are just for show. Something to deter snooping adults so they think it’s locked up, but it isn’t.
We’re probably way too old to still be coming to this place. Pretty sure it’s been something like four or five years since we’ve been here. It still looks the same. Just like everything in this town always does. Nothing ages, nothing changes. Well, some things change.
I glance at Bambi walking at my side as we step up onto the porch. She’s changed, I’ve changed. But is it enough?