Tell Me a Truth - CoraLee June Page 0,73

I weren’t drunk so I could fully enjoy this,” Blakely said with a slight giggle. Her reckless decision was a stark reminder of the age difference between us. I had long ago given up wild nights. I liked to toss a couple of beers back with Lance, but my college party days were over. Hers were just about to begin.

“You’re lucky Lance isn’t here,” I growled before grabbing her other foot and massaging the heel for just a moment. I wasn’t actually sure Lance would care. He was always the free spirited one, and he was so focused on gaining her approval that he probably wouldn’t say a damn thing.

“You’re right,” she said before leaning all the way back and plopping her back against the mattress. I was eye level with her panties, which were on full display thanks to the schoolgirl skirt she still wore. I swallowed, daring myself to look while admonishing myself. I had always considered myself to be a gentleman, and I wouldn’t stop now.

Standing up, I eased her legs onto the mattress and helped her guide her head toward the pillow. Lifting the soft comforter, I tucked her in. “Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?” she joked. Those green eyes of hers were heavy with exhaustion. I saw all the weight beneath them. Today was difficult for her, even though she wasn’t willing to admit it.

And maybe it was because I knew she needed a brief reprieve from the guilt harbored in her soul regarding her mother’s death, I obliged. “There once was a little boy,” I began before sitting on the edge of her mattress. She reached out to grab my hand, lightly squeezing it in encouragement to continue.

“He had it all. Two parents he thought he could look up to and a great big house. Everyone adored him.” She snuggled deeper into the mattress, and I bet if she had a bowl of popcorn, she’d be happily munching on it as she stared at me. “But then that little boy grew up. He realized that parents were just regular people. With regular problems. He realized that big house was actually pretty lonely.”

Blakely interrupted. “This is a somber bedtime story, Mr. Harris.”

I shushed her before continuing. “But then he made a friend. And that big, lonely house didn’t feel so lonely anymore. And those disappointing parents didn’t feel as disappointing anymore. And his friend made him see the world differently. His friend became family, and he made a promise that he would protect that friend with everything he had. They lived happily ever after.”

When I looked up at Blakely, mist had gathered in her drunken eyes. She was fighting to stay awake, as well is fighting the emotions bubbling up in her chest. It was important to me that she knew who Lance was in my life. She needed to understand why I had to keep things separate. Lance was my person, and fuck if that didn’t make me feel like a pussy for saying it. But he was. I got up, not willing to continue this story anymore.

“Hey, Mr. Harris?” she asked. Sleep was heavy, and so was her tone.

I was walking toward her bedroom door when I finally answered. “Yeah?”

“Do you think I’ll ever find a friend like that?”

I wanted to tell her that I could be that person for her. I wanted to take the loneliness in her cavernous heart and make it warm and inviting. I opened my mouth, determined to tell her all the ways I would fix the pain of her past. But light snores interrupted me. She was fast asleep.

Yeah, Blakely. I think you will.

20

Blakely

The shrill ringing of my cell phone woke me up. My head was slightly throbbing, and it smelled like I went for a swim in a bottle of Jack. Reaching for my phone, I frowned when I realized it was four in the afternoon. Had I seriously slept that long?

“Hello?” My voice was raspy like I’d smoked a pack of cigarettes, then grated my vocal cords down with sandpaper.

“Bumble Bee? Why do you sound hungover as hell?” Dad asked with a chuckle. I warmed at the familiar nickname he had for me as a kid. It had been a while since anyone had called me that.

“Because I am.” I didn’t bother lying to the old man, and he wouldn’t judge me. He’d had his fair share of benders in his time.

“Well, take some Advil and drink a Gatorade; I wanna

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