Hold Me Close. Megan Hart
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stuffed her bra,” Polly said with an arch sniff that said exactly what she thought about that little trick.
Effie stopped herself from laughing, but only barely. Back in the lobby, she hugged her daughter goodbye, gave her mother some money to pay for the ice cream, despite Mom’s protests that she could cover it, and when they’d gone through the front doors toward the parking lot, Effie looked for Heath. The crowd had thinned drastically, and at six-five he usually stood head and shoulders over everyone else. He shouldn’t have been difficult to see. Maybe he’d left despite telling her he would wait.
Effie shrugged Polly’s book bag over her shoulder and patted her pockets to be sure she had her keys before heading out into the cold. She spotted Heath as soon as she came out the front doors. She should’ve known to look for him in the smoking area. “Oh, hey.”
He wasn’t alone. The blonde with him wore stiletto ankle boots with skinny jeans and an impossibly tight leather jacket that did not look very warm. It couldn’t have been, not by the way she shivered and shifted from foot to foot as she smoked. She tossed her hair when she saw Effie, but it took Heath a few seconds longer than that to turn.
“Hey,” Effie said again. “I’m heading out.”
“Hi, Effie. I’m Lisa. Collins? My son Kevin’s in Polly’s grade. He was the zookeeper.” The blonde stubbed out her cigarette and offered a hand that Effie took only because it would’ve seemed really antisocial to refuse.
“Oh. Right. Kevin. He was in Polly’s class last year. Mr. Binderman.” Effie had no recollection of ever meeting Lisa Collins before, but that didn’t mean anything. She gave Heath a curious look.
Heath shoved his hands into his back pockets and rocked a little on his heels, looking from Effie to Lisa and back again. Oh, Effie thought. Oh, shit.
“Hey, well, I’m going to get out of here. Thanks for coming to the show, I know Polly appreciated it.” Effie gave Lisa a nod and Heath a neutral look, then went to her car.
It took her a minute or so after putting the key in the ignition before she could force herself to pull out of the parking spot. She wasn’t trying to watch and see if Heath and Lisa left together. Definitely not. But if she drove slowly enough, she might be able to catch a...
No, Effie thought. Hell, no. You’re not going to be that kind of jealous bitch.
Heath had every right to flirt or date or fuck whomever he wanted. Effie had made that abundantly clear. It was not the first time he’d done it. There’d even been a girl named Theresa who, for a while, had been officially his girlfriend. She’d been decent to Polly and respectful without being obsequious or a bitch to Effie. She hadn’t lasted long, not even a year, and Effie had never asked what broke them up, but she hadn’t been sad to see her go.
Anyway, a pot could call a kettle any color it wanted to, but it would still be black. Effie and Heath were not together. She did not want them to be together, not like that. So good luck to Lisa, Effie thought and pulled into the line of cars leaving the parking lot. She made it all the way home without so much as a shaky tear or stifled sob. She even made it into the house.
There she poured herself a glass of white wine and leaned against the counter, waiting for the jealousy to hit her. It was going to. She deserved it to.
The back door opened before she had time to do more than take a few sips. Startled, Effie spilled the wine down the front of her shirt. “What the hell!”
“Sorry. I texted you. You didn’t answer.” Heath took the glass from her hand and drained it, then pinned her against the counter. “How long until your mom gets back with Polly?”
Effie put her hands flat on his chest to hold him off her. “Hey. You. No. This... No.”
He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face. He didn’t let that stop him. He licked her neck, then nibbled in the best way to get her shivering for him.
“Dammit, Heath,” Effie said. “What the hell...”
He laughed into her ear and moved away from her. “Your face. When you saw her. Your fucking face, Effie.”
At that, she was no longer jealous. Vindicated, though she’d never admit it. Also pissed, which she would.
“You’re an asshole,” she told him.
Heath frowned. “C’mon.”
In response, Effie went to the fridge to pour another glass of wine. She didn’t offer him one. With her back to him, she said, “Trying to make me jealous is an asshole thing to do.”
“You do it to me all the time.”
“No,” she said, spinning. “I don’t. I don’t try to make you jealous. I try to move on and live my fucking life, Heath, and be honest about it. There’s a goddamned difference.”
“I went out to smoke. She was there. She started flirting with me. She’s cute. I didn’t start it up to make you jealous. But did it?” He looked angry but also hopeful.
Effie sipped wine without an answer. She pushed past him and went down the hall into her bedroom, where she shut the door firmly behind her. Her hands were shaking, but she didn’t want him to see it. She put the glass on the dresser and unbuttoned her blouse, turning quickly when the bedroom door opened.
“I’m changing. Get out.”
“It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked,” Heath said in a low voice, still trying for humor, although he wasn’t laughing.
Effie paused, lifting her chin, her fingers no longer working the buttons. “I said get out.”
“If you want me to leave, I’ll go.” Heath’s gaze fell to the open V of her shirt, then moved to her eyes.
Effie scowled. Unbuttoning. One at a time, slowly, so slowly. “I said I wanted you to, didn’t I?”
She let the fabric fall off her shoulders, leaving her in the pretty A-line skirt with the vintage styling and her lacy push-up bra that was definitely of a more modern fashion. Without ever looking away from him, Effie tossed her shirt onto the chair in the corner and put her hands on her hips. She drew in a breath, pushing out her tits and sucking in her gut. Cocked a hip.
“Get out,” she said. “I’m trying to take a shower.”
Heath didn’t move. She hadn’t really thought he would. Effie reached behind her to undo the zipper on her skirt. That joined the blouse so she stood in front of him in only her underwear.
“Get out,” she repeated one last time. “Or get on your knees.”
She knew which Heath would choose, yet still she held her breath until he dropped to his knees and slid across the hardwood floor to get himself in front of her. He could say no, one day. It could happen, but it had not happened now, and when he ran his fingertips up the backs of her calves and thighs, Effie shifted her stance to give him ample access to the heat between her legs.
The sound of voices stopped him. He looked up at her. Effie put her hand on his head, running her fingers through his hair, but then she stepped back.
“They’re home,” she whispered. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Under the water, she closed her eyes and let herself shake a little, thinking of his touch. Then she turned the water to cold and forced herself to endure the frigid sting long enough to numb herself to even a thought. Teeth chattering, Effie dried herself and put on a pair of comfy pj’s and her fluffy robe.
Heath, to her surprise, had not left. Her mother had, but he and Polly were at the kitchen island with huge bowls of ice cream topped with candy and chocolate syrup. Effie paused in the doorway.
“What happened to Buster’s?”
Polly waved her spoon. “It was too crowded and they didn’t have enough tables, and some of the kids were being jerks