“We need to talk about this,” I told him.

“We’ll talk about it on Friday,” he murmured against my neck and I knew the way he said it that he had absolutely no intention of talking about it Friday.

Then his tongue slid from my jaw to my shoulder and I shivered.

“We need to talk about it now,” I tried to speak in my word-is-law voice but it came out breathy.

“Friday,” he rolled me to my back again and came over me.

“Vance –”

His mouth against mine, he said softly, “Shut up Jules.”

“Stop telling me to shut up.”

He kissed me quiet and while he did his hand went up my nightgown, straight to my breast and his thumb took a swipe at my nipple. I gasped against his mouth and after my gasp he lifted his head an inch and looked me in the eye. His eyes were now full-on intense, his sexual tractor beam had gone super-powered and all my breath escaped my lungs.

“You wanna talk while I go down on you, be my guest. But I’m finally gonna taste you and then I’m gonna f**k you again and it might be distracting.”

Oh my God.

I was already at Grade Six.

“You wanna talk?” he asked.

I immediately shook my head, not because I didn’t have anything to say, mainly because I couldn’t speak.

He grinned and it was wicked.

Then his mouth came to mine and after that he did as he promised.

But he wore a condom this time.

* * * * *

The house was dark, Boo was snuggled into the small of my back and I was curled into Vance’s side, my arm around his waist, his tucked under and curled around me, hand at my hip.

I was thinking that sex was good but o**l s*x might be even better. It was a tossup and I was mentally enumerating the pros (there were lots) and cons (I couldn’t find any) of both when Vance said softly, “Tell me about your Aunt Reba.”

Still in the throes of post-orgasm mellowness I didn’t clam up instead, I asked, “What do you want to know?”

His fingers were tracing patterns on my hip and I liked the feel of it, it was sweet and relaxing.

“Did she look like you?” he asked.

I shook my head against his shoulder but said, “Maybe a little in the face. I look like my Mom. I have my Dad’s hair.”

At that Vance’s hand went from my hip and captured a tendril of my hair and I could feel him twisting it at my back. That was sweet and relaxing too.

“She was wise,” I whispered, smiling against his shoulder and thinking about Auntie Reba. “She was a lot younger than my Mom but very wise. I know a lot of people don’t believe in this kind of thing but I’m sure she had an old soul.”

His body heat was warming me, I pushed closer to him and for some reason kept talking.

“She was really young when my family died, probably too young to take me on but she was all I had left. Nick and her had just started going out when it happened. I think they got married because of me.”

When I stopped talking, Vance didn’t say anything so I kept going.

“Not that they wouldn’t have gotten married anyway. Nick… I’ve never seen a love like that. He’s still lost to this day without her. I used to wish he’d find someone but he never will. It makes me sad but I’m glad Auntie Reba still has someone to love her like that. She deserved it because she gave her love like that.”

Vance stopped twirling my hair and turned into me, wrapping both his arms around me.

He remained silent and I looked at his face in the moonlight from the window. Then do not ask me why, looking at Vance in the moonlight, I shared my most favorite memory of my Auntie Reba.

“Nick and I used to listen to music. A lot. Nick was into Southern Rock but also a big fan of Elton John. I loved Stevie Wonder and Nick liked to encourage my love of music so he bought me everything that had anything to do with Stevie. I remember lying in our living room, we lived in a different house then, I had my back on this big, pink bean bag they bought me for Christmas and Nick and I were listening to Stevie. Auntie Reba came in and lay down beside me, her back on the bean bag with me. Stevie’s ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ came on and Auntie Reba grabbed my hand in the middle of the song. After the song was done, she just looked at me.” I sucked in my lips and Vance’s hand came to my jaw, his thumb ran across my lower lip when I released it and his eyes, I could tell, were looking in mine. I was whispering when I carried on. “I knew what she meant. She didn’t have to say anything. Even though I wasn’t their child, I knew what she meant. Have you heard that song? Do you know what I mean?”

“I’ve heard the song,” he responded softly.

I took in a breath, it broke in the middle but I kept it together.

Then I stared at him and with a lot of courage and a little moonlight, I asked quietly, “What was your Mom like?”

He answered immediately, “She was beautiful. She was broken.”

I waited but he didn’t continue.

“Do you ever think you’ll try to find them?” I asked.

“I know where they are.”

I blinked at him. “Have you…?” I started but he knew what I was going to say.

“No,” he answered.

“Will you?”

“No.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?” I whispered, my stomach clenching, my heart slowing, knowing I shouldn’t care but wanting him to say yes.

“No,” he said.

I nodded, letting him have his space but feeling disappointment running through me like acid. I dipped my chin and pressed my face into his throat so he wouldn’t see it.

“Maybe,” he said from above me, “if you break up with me on Saturday, I might tell you on Friday.”

My body went still.

“Though, I’m thinkin’, I’ll tell you on Saturday if you break up with me on Sunday.”

My head tipped back and he was grinning down at me.

My eyes narrowed on him. “Crowe.”

“Shut up Jules.”

“Don’t tell me –”

His lips touched mine. “Shut up,” he said quietly. “Go to sleep.”

I tried to force my way out of his arms but they went ultra-tight and he kept me where I was.

“You’re very annoying,” I told his throat.

He didn’t answer.