Melting - Sean Ashcroft Page 0,1

once and for all. No more hookups. No more tequila shots.

Even as I thought it, I missed the way warm skin tasted under my tongue.

But maybe that meant something. Maybe it meant I should take a break, if I couldn’t even handle the thought of going without sex for an indeterminate period.

Like a week.

I could totally handle going without for a week.

Yeah. A week sounded doable. Plus, today was Saturday, so if the week started today I only had to survive the one Friday night.

“Rough night?” Mr. Lewis asked as I got out of the car.

Dammit.

I’d been so close. I could’ve ducked in, taken a two-minute shower and changed my clothes without getting caught.

“Uh.”

Mr. Lewis chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” I said, guilt settling in my stomach. He was so good to me, and I couldn’t even show up on time when I lived in his backyard. What kind of screw-up was I?

“Don’t be,” Mr. Lewis waved away my apology. “Was he pretty?”

I couldn’t help smiling at that. No one in my entire life had ever been as unflappably cool as Mr. Lewis. Best boss ever.

“He had eyes exactly the same color as the bottom of the pool,” I said, nodding toward the yard. “So yeah, kinda pretty.”

“Good, I’d hate to hear your standards were slipping,” he said with a wry smile. “I had something to tell you, but it can wait. Meet me inside when you’re ready.”

Oh thank god.

Mr. Lewis was a smart man. He knew better than to come within five feet of me before I’d had a chance to shower and change.

I ran upstairs, stripped off, and sighed under the blissfully high-pressure spray of the shower. Right now, showering was better than sex.

Still couldn’t remember that guy’s name. Maybe I never asked after all.

I didn’t love that idea. We’d both been in it for a little fun, but it still wasn’t cool that I hadn’t even asked his name. I was better than that. Wasn’t I?

I pushed the thought aside and turned my mind to work, and whatever it was Mr. Lewis wanted to tell me.

I found him in the kitchen, two cups of coffee sitting on the counter between us, and I could’ve kissed him.

“Thank you so, so much,” I said, taking the coffee mug nearest to me and wrapping my hands around it. I normally made the coffee around here, but I was grateful for the gesture this morning.

“You have to tell me about this guy,” Mr. Lewis said.

“Uh.”

Great. Now I had to confess to my boss—and honestly, he was more than my boss, he was a man I looked up to—that I couldn’t remember my hookup’s name.

Okay. No hookups for a week. I was making a deal with myself right now.

“He was, umm…” I tried again, still not sure how to explain myself. “Uh.”

“Ah, one of those,” Mr. Lewis said, sipping his coffee.

The back of my neck itched as blood rushed to my cheeks.

“I was young once,” he said. “Your generation didn’t invent anonymous sex with people you’re never planning to see again.”

I almost choked trying not to spit my mouthful of coffee back into the mug.

Mr. Lewis grinned.

He had dozens of stories about his life, and yeah, a lot of them involved taking someone home at the end of the night. That was why we got along so well.

He’d settled down eventually. I could, too.

I hadn’t woken up with the same person next to me twice in a row in a long, long time. It might’ve been nice to wake up in the morning and at least remember the name of the guy on the other side of the bed.

Or girl. Or any other kind of person, really. Whoever was into me and up for a good time.

“Anyway,” I said, changing the subject as artfully as I could with a pounding headache. “You wanted to tell me something?”

“Oh!” Mr. Lewis lit up. “Right. My son’s coming down to visit,” he said, face lit up like a Christmas tree.

I’d heard all about Hayden. Mr. Lewis was proud of his son, and talked about him so much that I’d started to feel like he was an old friend. We’d never actually met, but I was pretty convinced that he was as incredible as Mr. Lewis said.

“I’ll… clear out of the guesthouse,” I said, stomach twisting at the thought. I’d lived out there for almost two years now, but it was always temporary, and family had to come before the hired help. Right?

Mr. Lewis waved that away, wrinkling his