“Do you have a dress for tonight?” Andrew wondered.

“I have a dress—whether it is appropriate is the real question.”

“What does it look like?”

My mind searched for the right description. “It looks like Minnie Mouse got into a catfight with a hooker.”

“Ha! I would love to see what that looks like.”

“I can model it for you when we get home.”

Andrew’s heated glance said he would like that very much. My inner thighs twitched in anticipation. Tonight my two-year dry spell would end and my orgasm reclaimed. Hallelujah. I grabbed my bag between my legs to search for a breath mint.

“Why did you have bruise marks?”

My eyes fell to the exposed skin on my right wrist where my jacket sleeve had ridden up. Big Ted had left behind faded black and blue impressions of his fingertips from our confrontation. Lying wasn’t an option—not with Andrew—not anymore.

“I had a run in with Big Ted the other day,” I said.

Contained anger crept into his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I guess because it would make it real. He has shed his skin and showed the monster hidden beneath. That monster wasn’t there when I was kid. Then again, it could have been and I had no idea.”

“He’s a drug dealer, Haven. He was never a saint.”

“Duh! But he shed light on things my mother did that I never thought she would.”

Andrew looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Like what?”

Fiddling with the tassel on my purse, embarrassment coursed through me. Being seen as a drug addict’s daughter was shameful enough. Andrew waited patiently for me to speak.

“My mom used her body to pay for drugs when she didn’t have money,” I said quietly. “Nothing mattered more than that sweet high.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t matter.”

Andrew flipped on the turn signal and coasted to the side of the road. I looked around, confused at what he was up to. He turned off the engine, unbuckled his seat belt and did the same for me.

“Get out,” Andrew ordered.

“Why?”

He ignored my questioning gaze and stepped out onto the busy highway. Cars zoomed past at dizzying speeds. A shallow river next to the guardrail stretched into a wide-open piece of land. An abounded house sat on the property, windows broken and the roof half collapsed. Andrew knocked on the passenger window then pointed to the house. He jumped over the guardrail like a gazelle, leaving me no other choice than to follow.

Andrew stood waiting for me at what used to be the front door, now a splintered board covered in moss. Old houses and their untold stories gave me the creeps.

I shivered and wrapped my arms around my waist. “What are we doing here?”

“This was my fort when I was a child. I lived a half a mile from here in the Pinecone development.”

The Pinecone development, known for its lavish houses, bright green lawns and large gold fountain at the entrance, screamed wealth. One year Monica, Sumiko, and I tainted the water of the fountain bright purple as a metaphorical middle finger.

“My fort when I was a child was a cardboard box until Billy, the homeless man claimed it as his. I couldn’t blame him. It was a really sweet box.” I said.

Andrew lips quivered as he held back a laugh. “You are so weird.”

“Weird is just another term for awesome, as Monica says.”

“She is onto something there. Do you want to see the rest of the house?”

I glanced at the dilapidated structure. It looked like a one room shack from the outside unless a basement was hidden below. Andrew shoved the door open and dust particles floated in the air. Coughing, my feet refused to budge from the tall grass. This was how every horror movie started out. Stupid girl walks into abounded house, finds a dead body, screams, and subsequently runs into serial killer who murders her with a butcher knife.

“You are crazy if you think I’m going to go in there with you.” I arched an eyebrow. “Is this like a metaphor for with ugliness blooms beauty?”

“Nope, I just wanted to show you a sliver of my childhood.” Off my befuddlement, Andrew explained further. “Since we met, there’s been more drama in my life than my twenty-five years of being alive.”

“Hey! You always had the choice to leave, still do.”

He stepped into my personal bubble, placing his hands on my hips. I sucked in a breath as he looked at me with unconcealed affection. “That’s the thing—I don’t want to leave. Me and you, baby, are in this together until the bloody end.”

Andrew’s use of the word baby made me giggle. “Did you just call me baby?”

“You hate nicknames, don’t you?”

I inched my pointer finger and thumb together. “Just a little bit.”

“Figured. What I was trying to say was that I just need a break from the drama. Not being able to help you is driving me insane, Haven. If I had it my way, Big Ted would be behind bars and your stepsister in rehab.” He tightened his hold. “Can we just pretend for an hour that we are on our first date? You laugh at my jokes, we flirt, and maybe at the end we share a goodnight kiss.”

His dark eyes flickered with hope, igniting a sense of bravery inside me.

I moved his hands to cup the round curve of his ass. “I think we have moved past first base Andrew and are running toward home.”

He grinned wickedly. “Are you coming onto me, Haven McClain?”

“I don’t know? Am I, Andrew Foster?”

“Mmm,” he dipped his head and whispered in my ear. “I like when you say my full name. It sounds sexy coming from your lips.”

My heart rate tripled as his minty fresh breath sent shivers down my spine. “Is that so?”

“That is definitely so.”

Andrew slid his hands up underneath the back of my shirt, racking his short-cut fingernails against my skin. Pleasure heated my bloodstream. The sound of a truck barreling past reminded me we were in plain sight, yet I couldn’t care less. I had waited long enough. My sexual dry spell ended now. Tipping my chin upwards, my mouth found his. Andrew growled, losing the control he so desperately held onto and kissed me like a man starved of oxygen. His fingers tangled into my hair while he sucked my bottom lip between his teeth. I moaned and pulled Andrew closer until we were one and the same. Dizzy with desire, the world around us faded. A whimper of protest left the back of my throat when we separated, breaths ragged.

“If you keep it up, I won’t be able to wait until we get home,” Andrew said.

“Why wait?” My gaze flickered to the abounded house. “We can act out your teenage fantasies in your childhood fort.”

“I knew there was a vixen inside you yet.”

He swung me off my feet and into his arms. Kicking the splintered door open, I breathed in a lungful of damp earth. Wooden boards nailed on the windows blocked out the sunlight. The small one room shack knocked up to a ten on the creep factor. I began to regret my decision. Sensing my discomfort, Andrew put me down and clicked his cell phone on. While meager, it provided enough light to better see our surrounding.

“There might be a few candlesticks and matches,” Andrew mused. “Let me check.”

He raided the set of chest of drawers next to a shell of a bedframe missing its mattress. I hugged my arms around my waist and pretended not to notice the structure’s dilapidated state. Otherwise, my dry spell would stay intact for another day.

“Ha! I knew they were in here,” Andrew struck a match and begun to place the candlesticks around the room. A faint glow flickered against the walls. “I could also start a fire too, if you’re cold.”

“I’m good. Thank you.”

Recognizing the unease in my voice, Andrew strode to where I was and flashed a heart-stopping grin. “We are perfectly safe. Relax.”

“This is how every horror movie starts.”