"Sure," I say. "But why don't you go get dressed first?"

That adorable blush is back as she looks down her body and quickly folds her arms over her chest again.

While she is down the hall changing, I muse over the fact that my bone-deep tiredness seems to have vanished. The construction and architect conference I had been attending the last days was interesting, but the closing event wasn't tempting enough to keep me in the big dirty city, not even with the prospect of no-strings-attached company with one of the women attending. Instead, the good weather forecast had me driving all night to get home, and as a result, I've been awake for more than twenty-four hours. I'm probably half-delirious from lack of sleep, and that's for sure the reason for my insane fascination by this way-too-young girl. How old is she again? I think Leonid said she was nineteen.

Way-way too young. And not to mention, my son's girlfriend.

I've cracked four eggs into the frying pan and toasting bagels under the grill by the time Arlene walks back into the kitchen. Her skirt goes all the way down to her knees and the white T-shirt is just that-a white T-shirt. It's obvious that she has put a bra on. It's one of those padded ones that makes your boobs look bigger and hides any hard nipples.

I hate those bras.

But this morning, it's a blessing.

"Leonid still sleeping?" I ask as she helps set the table.

"Uh." She bites her lip, looking uncertain. "I assume so," she says in a low voice.

"What do you mean?"

"I-I didn't look into his room."

"His room? Are you not staying in his room?"

"No," she admits. "I'm in the guest room."

"Did you two have an argument?"

"Well-no, it's not that. It's just." She takes a deep breath, but her voice is a mere whisper when she continues. "I'm just not ready to share a bed with anyone yet."

I'm shocked, on so many levels. Leonid became sexually active at an early age, and for him not to sleep with his girlfriend sounds.just strange. But despite feeling a bit of admiration for my son, the voice shouting the strongest in my head is saying: She's untouched! No man has had his cock inside of her!

My sleep-deprived mind is screaming for me to claim her, claim her as mine, ruin her for any other man.

Jeremie, where are these disturbing thoughts coming from?

"That's very admirable," I say with what I hope is a normal tone. "I'm glad my son is respecting your wishes."

"Yes," is all she says, looking down.

Arlene asks me about the area when we sit down to eat, and I have no problem telling her about this town that I love so much. I suggest places for her to visit, the best beaches, trails for long walks, and where to spot wildlife. She soaks up every word, asking questions, and seems eager to go explore right this moment.

"Why did you decide to come here after your exams? Don't you miss you family and friends?" I ask her.

"I was hoping to relax a bit after all the finals stress. And home is not a place that is relaxing." She laughs, but her eyes turn distant.

"Why is that?"

"Well.there's always some type of drama with my older sister, and my twin brothers-they are younger than me-they always get into trouble. Then Mom will get mad at my dad because he is too lenient with my sister, and Dad will get mad at Mom because she's too lenient with the boys. There's always fighting and never a quiet moment, always drama and arguments." She sighs. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offload like that."

"And who's the most lenient with you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your mom or your dad-who is the most lenient with you?"

She looks taken aback by my question.

"Um.neither. I never cause any trouble."

I would love to find out why my question is making her feel so uneasy, but instead, I ask her about her hometown. She tells me about a park and a couple of walks she likes, but in general it sounds like an industrial town with not much charm or soul.

I can't believe that two hours have passed by the time my son makes his way into the kitchen.

"Dad! What are you doing here so early?"

"I drove back through the night. You know me, can't stand big cities."

"Yeah." His gaze drifts to Arlene, and misplaced jealousy surfaces in me when he puts his hand on her shoulder. I get up from my seat.

"I'll put a fresh pot of coffee on," I offer, mostly just so I don't have to look at them.

Behind my back, I hear my son mumble, "I'm so sorry."

I assume he's sorry for Arlene having been forced to spend time with me on her own.

But I'm wrong.

4Arlene"I'm so sorry," Leonid whispers and sits next to me, the smell of alcohol still strong on his breath. "I was totally out of line last night. I never should have tried to push you into doing something you didn't want to do."

From the corner of my eye, I can see Romantensing, his head turns our way and his expression is hard. I feel mortified that he's overhearing this conversation.

"It's okay," I whisper.

"No, it's not. I was drunk, that's my only excuse. It won't happen again, I promise."

If I could only believe his promise. I think his patience with me is slowly withering away. I've told him before that I don't want my first time to be a drunken hook-up, yet last night, when we got home, he kept trying to push me. Even when I said no, he was all wandering hands, all drunken coercion. I wasn't scared, but still felt very vulnerable. I made sure my bedroom door was locked, and I couldn't help but cry myself to sleep. He's never been that pushy before.

"Okay," I say again, and I smile just to make this conversation end.

"Thank you, sweetheart, for being so understanding," he says and nuzzles his face in my hair. His hand lands on my leg and starts moving up and down, and I wonder how much he really understands.

I almost jump in my seat when a cup of coffee is set in front of Leonid with a little too much force.

My boyfriend sits back and thanks his father.

"So you've met," he says after a big swig.

"Yes," I say and try to tell myself I don't have to feel guilty about chatting with his dad. Although the way my body reacted to him was definitively wrong. Something is wrong with me. I've never reacted that way to Leonid, not even when we've been making out. And even now, when Leonid is sitting next to me with only shorts and a tight tank on, showing off his fabulously toned athlete's body, it's still fully clothed Romanmy eyes drift to. "Your father has been telling me about the marina and a walk up to the Styke's viewpoint."

Leonid rolls his eyes.

"I'm sure he has. My dad always has the most exciting ideas."

I look at Machel, afraid that he'll take offense at Leonid's mocking tone. But he just lifts an eyebrow at his son.

"Well, I thought it sounded great. I'd love to do that," I rush to say. And I mean it too.

Perhaps Leonid doesn't want to hurt my feelings, as his tone is normal when he replies, "Sure, we can, some time. We're here for three weeks. But not today. I've arranged for us to meet up with Georgiaand play some ball this afternoon. He's convinced he can still beat me in basketball even though he hasn't played since leaving school."

"Really?" I say and laugh. "Leonid became the second highest point scorer on his team this season," I tell his dad. Romanis proud of his son's achievements, that much is clear, and the two of them talk sports for a while until Romanyawns.

"I'm sorry, I need to get a few hours' sleep. I've been up all night."

"Oh, did I keep you up with all my questions?" I ask, feeling bad.

"Not at all. I enjoyed our conversation very much," he says slowly. The way his hazel eyes are taking me in makes me believe it.

That surge in my stomach is back.

5MachelI love the early mornings-this quiet intermission before life hits you in the face. I'm a loner. I always have been. I like my own company, my projects-tinkering on my boat or fixing up my house. I volunteer as a handyman at the nursing home, fixing whatever needs to be done and then having coffee and a chat with the residents. Then I go home, make a meal for one, and enjoy a beer and the view from my garden, feeling happy. I don't need a woman by my side. After things went down the drain with Leonid's mom-not that it was ever far from the drain in the first place-I had a few girlfriends. But God, it was hard work. Too much work just to secure some regular access to sex. Now, I might hook up with some random woman when I'm out of town for business, but never anyone local-this town is way too small for one-night stands. The rest of the time, my right hand does a damned good job when combined with some select internet sites.

While scanning the horizon, I take a deep lungful of air and let it out with a contented sigh. Solitude really is underrated. I can't think of anything worse than having to adjust to another person's habits or schedule, feeling guilty whenever I want to spend time on my own. Like during my precious morning solitude.

"Good morning, Machel."

I quickly turn and see Arlene standing in the doorway to the patio. I haven't seen her since yesterday morning. They were gone when I woke up from my nap and hadn't come back yet when I went to bed for the night.

"Arlene! You're up early. I didn't even hear you two come home last night."

She steps onto the deck. The sunshine is playing with the blond and brown tones of her hair, and it brings out all the shades of blue in her eyes.

Thankfully, she's dressed this morning.

"I don't tend to sleep in."

"Did you have a good night?"

Her eyes turn distant. Avoiding my gaze, she takes in the horizon that I'd just been admiring.

"Georgiaand Leonid were playing basketball for a while. Then we went to a party." She laughs quietly. "There seem to be a lot of parties here."

I don't push her with more questions; I don't need to-her lack of enthusiasm tells me all I need to know. "What are you doing today?" I ask instead.

"I-I don't know yet. I was hoping maybe to go for a walk. Are there any walks I can do from the house?"

The quiet desperation in her voice breaks my heart. She turns her blue gaze to me, and I find I'm choked up when I say, "Let's go."

"Sorry?"

"You've got your tennis shoes on. What are you waiting for?" I smile and step onto the lawn.

"What?" She laughs, her eyes suddenly alive with joy. "Like, right now?"

My smile just spreads wider, and she laughs happily while eagerly following me down into the garden.

"Don't you have to work?" she asks when I guide her through the small gate in the hedge.

"I'm always up long before I have to leave for work. I've got time for a walk."

The small path below my house joins a bigger path where we have to climb over a fence. It's not too high, and I easily scale it, as I have a hundred times before. It's not that easy for Arlene-she's wearing a skirt. She throws one slender leg over the top bar, and her skirt rides all the way up her thigh. I stop breathing. She throws her other leg over. I see a glimpse of white cotton undies. Innocent, crisp, white cotton undies.

Oh my God.

All the blood in my body rushes south. I quickly turn away from her. I'd been doing so well this morning, keeping any sexy thoughts away from her. But now they're all flooding back. On a shaky exhale, I start telling her about the area, just to distract myself.

I feel more in control when, after about ten minutes, I lead us off the path and onto an overgrown trail. Another few minutes and the trees surrounding us open up to an expansive view of the bay. I don't know if she notices, but Arlene grabs my arm as she stops, looking at the view in wonder.

"Machel," she whispers, her voice binding me to her like her fingers around my arm. "It's spectacular. The blue.the green."

"Yes, it's beautiful," I reply quietly. Her cheeks are rosy, her eyes twinkling.

"To have all this on your doorstep." Her lips are parted.

"Yes, to have all this, so close."

She looks up at me, and I blink a few times before I manage to get out of my funk. Damn, what's going on with me? I clear my throat and force myself to look away from her.

"That's Marlock's beach," I point out. "And up there, that's Styke's viewpoint."

"Has it got as good views as this place?"

I glance quickly down at her, finding her looking up at me.

"It can."

She takes a quick breath and laughs, almost nervously, before turning back to the scenery.

"If I grew up here, I would've been walking this path every day."

"I'm glad someone's appreciating it. I don't think Leonid's been down here since he was a boy and I forced him to come with me. He was never one for outdoor activities. If it had a vending machine and public toilets nearby, it was okay."

"That liar! He seduced me with tales of the countryside of his childhood," she yells in pretend anger. Despite a twitch of something like jealousy, I can't help myself from laughing, and she joins in.

"How did you and Leonid end up together?" I ask as we make our way back, trying to steer the conversation on a topic that will keep my head in the right place. She isn't making it easy for me, though, walking in front of me, swinging that sexy pert ass from side to side.

"We had a class together and were in the same study group. For several months, Leonid never even looked at me. Then one day, his eyes just found mine. At first, I thought he'd exhausted the females in the group and that I was the only one left that hadn't been with him-next by default, kind of. And I had absolutely no interest in that kind of thing. But he was relentless and persuaded me that he was serious about me. Not having much experience in boys flirting with me, I was completely ambushed!" She laughs quietly. "Guess I didn't stand a chance against his charm," she adds wistfully.

"What do you mean, you don't have much experience in boys flirting with you?"

She laughs then, loud this time. "Machel, do you think I'm some kind of popular girl that's being hit on constantly?"

"Why not? You're pretty, sexy-" I swallow. Her eyes widen, and that blush that I've come to adore is back. "You're smart and kind. Why wouldn't guys be hitting on you?"

Looking down, she says, "I'm shy. I don't put myself out there."

"Are you saying you've never been hit on?"

"Well, when I was twelve," she says, looking up at me with a cheeky grin. "This popular boy took an interest in me. But regretfully, one of my girlfriends liked him too."

"Oh dear. please tell me he had the sense to choose you."

"Not really. This girl was very powerful, and she started bullying me. A lot. It got so bad that I actually dreaded going to school."

"Kids can be so cruel. I know she was only twelve, but I want to kick her!"

"Thanks for your support. It's more than I got at home!"

"What do you mean?"

Her face falls a bit. I don't think she meant to say that. Yet after a few beats, she continues. "I-I eventually decided to tell my dad. I expected him to blow a gasket, demand the girl's name, contact her parents and my teacher. He'd done that on a few occasions whenever my sister Stacey had trouble with kids in school. But he said, 'Arlene, you need to learn to stand up for yourself and not let anyone treat you with disrespect.' Then he asked me to make the bacon-and-pasta dish that everyone liked, said it would take my mind off things. Then he took off to pick up my brothers."

"I want to kick your dad too," I say quietly and put my hand on her back. Her eyes are watery, and she swallows.

"It was only when I got older that I understood that Dad had treated me with disrespect that day. And I have yet to learn to stand up for myself." She smiles weakly.

"What happened in school?"

"I learned to stay under the radar." She shrugs, then takes a deep breath. "Sorry, this was supposed to be a fun story, not a tearjerker."

I smile down at her and pull her a little closer. I hate it when we reach the fence and I have to let go of her. I scale the fence, and like a pervert, I can't take my eyes off her when she again struggles in her skirt. She's straddling the fence when I step closer. I grab her narrow waist and lift her over.

"Machel!" she gasps, her hands holding on to my shoulders. I lower her to the ground, and she's so dammed close, looking up at me with her hands still on my shoulders. She smells of sweet flowers. If she just leaned in a tiny bit, she would find out how much she's affecting me. I peel my hands from her waist and take a step back.

"I put coffee on just before we left. It should be fresh still," I say as I force my eyes away from hers.

"That sounds nice."

It's only as we walk into the house that I realize I've been spending my precious morning solitude with another person. And it hasn't been bad at all.

6ArleneI can't believe I told Romanabout the bullying when I was younger. After the failed attempt at telling Dad, I never spoke about it again-not to a soul-although I've come to acknowledge that it played a part in forming who I am today. But the words just spilled. I've never met anyone that I can talk so easily with.

The muscles on Machel's arm are flexing when he holds the full pot of coffee and pours me a cup. The same, strong arms that so easily lifted me over the fence. I've had this strange feeling in my belly ever since, and my breath is shallow. I feel light. Free.

"What are you doing up so early?" a groggy voice asks behind me, and I almost spill my coffee.

"Leonid!"

Sometimes I forget how good-looking Leonid is, and standing there in only a pair of boxer shorts with his hair mussed and sleepy eyes, I should have been a puddle on the floor. But all I can see is how his eyes turned dark and hungry last night when we met Daphne.

The party had been at Belinda's house. People were hanging out in small groups, chatting, laughing, getting more and more drunk. Most of them were back in their quaint hometown for their summer break, just like Leonid was, and were eager to catch up with their old friends. Some were kind enough to talk to me-the shy stranger in the room-but only for a few minutes. Even when Leonid was by my side, which he wasn't, most of the time, I felt so desperately alone.

He wasn't there when I met Daphne.

It was Belinda who introduced me to her. "Leonid brought a girlfriend from college," she explained, looking pointedly at Daphne.

"Oh." Daphne's face fell. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend." I wasn't sure how to respond, but I didn't have to. The two of them continued their conversation without any input from me.

"No, it came as a shock to us all," Belinda said with a smile, but there was a twang to her voice. "I always thought he'd end up with someone from home."

"So did I." An awkward silent settled, and I realized one of them, or even both, had their eyes on Leonid.