The Summer of '98

(3)

"So this is the bedroom that you'll be using."

Leroy set down my suitcase beside a small double bed. The floral duvet looked plush, the frilled edges of the throw pillows looked delicate and intricate. I gazed at the patterned wallpaper with adoration. It looked like the decor from the home catalogues that Momma longed for but could never afford.

"Sorry that we can't share," Leroy's deep voice startled me from thoughts and I turned around, noticing that he leaned against the wall beside the door.

His gaze had become a little darker, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he swept me from head to toe. His admiration didn't give me the violated feeling that I got when Noah did it. Instead it ignited a burst of fire within me. A breathless need. A wishful longing.

"It's alright," I stammered, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. It felt strange to behave as though I was shy around him. We'd shared the most intimate act that two people could share. But I still became so wound up under the heat of his stare. Unable to think, almost unable to breathe.

He leaned off the wall, flicking the door shut before he sauntered towards me. The back of my legs hit the bed and I went down, propping myself on my elbows as he placed a hand on either side of me, the mattress dipping a little under his weight. The air became impossibly thick as he hovered mere inches from my face, inspecting every inch of it as though he was retaining it to memory. I understood though. It had been months of wishing to see each other and having to settle for the sound of his voice instead. Which was something that I had come to adore. But now, I kind of wanted to just— not talk.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, the back of his hand swept my cheek and I let my eyes flutter shut, swallowing as the overwhelming emotions sent me into a state of bliss.

"Ellie?"

With a sharp inhale, I opened my eyes to the sound of his voice. It held a certain authority, but as much as he held a dominance, there were delicate undertones and his gaze was the softest statement of all. "Please look at me when I kiss you."

There wasn't a chance that I would argue. I wouldn't even want to. I met his gaze as he leaned in, his lips feathered mine and under some cruel twist of fate, the door swung open behind us and hit the wall. Leroy didn't move, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his brother whistled a scandalous tune.

"Dad don't want the door shut up here, Lee."

I stole a peek around the side of the firm arms that had me encased and spied Noah leaning against the door frame. It almost sounded like Leroy was counting to ten before he reluctantly stood up and shot me an apologetic look.

"Grow the hell up Noah," he spat, turning around to face the younger Lahey.

"Hostile," Noah scoffed. He seemed to be fronting a little but his cheeks had a dusting of red that indicated that he might be more affected by his brother's words than he wanted to let on. "She's here for five minutes and you're having a go?"

"You're being rude," Leroy snapped. "A simple tap on the door would have sufficed."

"Whatever." He straightened up and shot me an indecipherable glance before he focused his attention back on Leroy. "Are you coming to Eric's tonight? Oh wait, no. Saturdays have turned into bitch night, right?"

"I am coming," Leroy informed his brother who flinched with surprise. "Ellie is coming with me."

His shoulders slumped but he didn't continue the conversation. I mean, what did he expect? If Leroy was going, that he'd just leave me here alone? Noah left the room, not closing the door behind him. I didn't think that we'd get our moment or our privacy back but we had all summer to steal moments alone.