Posey (Low #1.5) by Mary Elizabeth

Author:Mary Elizabeth [Elizabeth, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B01HABME9Q
Published: 2016-06-17T23:00:00+00:00

SUMMER COOLS TO autumn, welcoming fallen leaves, fresher weather, and college classes. As a result, I spend more time home in Culver City and less time with Lowen in Inglewood, but we make it work and steal moments together when we can.

My school books are open-faced, spread across the glass kitchen table much to my mother’s dismay.

“Can’t you do that in your room?” she complained to me on more than one occasion. “You’re getting fingerprints all over it.”

I purposely drop pencil shavings onto the floor for her to find when she gets home tomorrow morning. I’ve also left my dishes in the sink, and put the forks where the spoons go and the spoons where the forks go in the utensil drawer, because fuck her.

My parents grew accustomed to me not being around much during the summer, leaving them to their own devices. Now I’m back, taking up space and breathing the same air as them, and they haven’t made it a secret that it’s bothersome.

While they’re off pretending to give a shit about each other on a last-minute overnight stay with friends in Big Bear, l have the house to myself.

And it’s Friday.

Gardener day.

At exactly four p.m., the sound of a lawn mower fires up in the front yard, and a smile stretches across my face. Lowen is right outside the front door, and my body is well aware. Prickling nervousness tickles the tips of my fingers, and my heartbeat fills my chest with a thump, thump, thump so heavy I nearly expect my ribs to splinter at the force.

When the mower stops, I close my books and stack them in an awkward pile, brushing eraser crumbs and broken lead to the linoleum with the shavings.

Low knocks before he enters the house.

A week has passed since I last saw him, and the sight of my boy, sun-kissed and filthy, leaves me breathless and tingling between my legs. Dark denim jeans are haphazardly tucked into his work boots; one is tied perfectly, and the other is unlaced completely. I helped buzz his head a couple of weeks ago, but it’s already long around his ears and in need of another shave.

“Your parents are gone, right?” he asks, closing the door behind him. Lowen’s blue eyes fall on my form, barefoot and braless. He smirks. “Please tell me they’re not here.”

Words abandon me, so I jump into his arms instead, wrapping my legs around his waist and pressing kisses to his salty skin. Lowen stumbles back, tripping on his untied laces, and collides with the wall. His grip on my bottom tightens, and he laughs into my neck, holding me against his hard chest.

“Miss me?” he asks. The tips of his work-worn fingers slip under my shirt and brush across my lower back.

“You have no idea,” I murmur between kisses.

Lowen sets me on my feet and hooks his arm around the back of my neck to kiss the top of my head. He smells like gasoline and freshly cut grass, and I press myself against him to breathe it in.

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