The Summer of '98

(2)

"Hello Ellie."

His voice was like butter. Soft and smooth, sliding over me and seeping into my skin. It was what I had come to know. I had made love to this man, cried his name in a night of passion and touched every surface of his magnificent body. But his soul, his deep voice, his poetic words, those were what I had fallen in love with.

I turned around and laid a gaze on his gorgeous grin. He stood tall, hands in his jean pockets, his hair swept over in an unkempt mess. He screamed confidence. And why wouldn't he? He was irresistible. His charm and presence couldn't be missed, even when he didn't utter a word. I drank in his appearance. His jeans rolled up at the ankles, his white chuck Taylor's and the fitted white muscle shirt that allowed a view of his sinfully delicious arms.

I was so entrapped by the man before me that I startled when he stepped forward and drew me in with his large hand wrapped around my waist.

"I have missed you a whole damn lot Ellie Livingston." He smiled before he crashed his lips against mine and I was lost to the world. Gone. Only existing with the life that he breathed into me with that unbelievable kiss.

I didn't want it to end. I could have kissed him until the sun set and the stars birthed a new night. But his mouth parted from mine and we both chuckled with relief. He was just as thrilled to have me, as I was to have him. "I missed you too," I finally managed to tell him.

"Mom's excited to meet you," he told me as he dropped an arm around my shoulder and steered me towards the baggage claims. His statement caught me off guard. I had been gearing up to prove that I wasn't some street rat that didn't deserve her son. I wanted her to know that love was what was most important because I was sure that due to their oodles of wealth, I wouldn't be good enough.

Perhaps I had jumped the gun a little. I knew that a lot of the families in my hometown had that mindset. That didn't go to say that every single rich folk was a snob and a half. There's a good chance that I was the snob for making such assumptions. I didn't query Leroy further though. I just smiled and admired his frame as he effortlessly gripped the suitcase and carried it with one hand, his other arm remaining around me.

During the journey home, he drove us in a black 1996 Mercedes Benz. The seats were made of soft leather and the ride was smooth. Our pick up back home was reliable but she was old, that's for sure. I'd never been in such a new vehicle. But still, as exciting as that was, nothing could compare to the butterflies that I felt when Leroy's hand held mine as he drove us back from the airport. We spent the two-hour journey talking. We never exhausted topics and every time he turned to smile at me, my heart would flutter, threatening to fly right out of my chest.

Upon arriving at his home, I marvelled in awe at the two-story brick mansion. The gardens flourished with beautiful flowers, the house was enormous, and trellis that lined the side of the home assisted climbing vines and colourful petals to grow. I almost felt a little out of my depth at such an extravagant place as I stepped out of the car and into the sweltering heat. Although, it definitely wasn't as bad as the temperatures back at home.

Leroy fetched the luggage from the trunk and was beside me in a matter of moments. I was so aware of his presence, it was like the air between us hummed with electricity. I glanced up at him, squinting to avoid the sun that created a halo around his dirty blonde locks. His face had the ability to leave me breathless and I hoped that Momma was wrong. I hoped that this wasn't fleeting.

"Ready?" he questioned, offering me his hand before we began towards the house. "They're going to love you."

Inside, it was just as beautiful as I had imagined. There was a small space in the foyer that was tiled but after that, a cream carpet lined the corridors and living room, which was down a simple two steps. A staircase in the corridor led upstairs and past that was what I assumed was the kitchen.

Leroy dropped my bag beside the staircase and then steered us back into the living room where his Mom and Dad were sat with a cold water and a fan blowing air in an attempt to cool the house down. I felt a little sheepish as the two of them stood up with inspecting gazes.

"Mom, Dad," his grin became wide as he placed his hand on the lower of my back, his fingers splaying out, "this is Ellie Livingston."

"Harold." His father outstretched his aged hand with a gentle smile. I could see Leroy in his father's face. His eyes were green though, rather than pale brown, and his shoulders a little broader. But there was a definite likeness.

"Eleanor," the woman greeted next with a kind and welcoming smile. His parents were a little more aged than I had expected them to be and I figured that they must have started having kids later in life. Which reminded me that I was yet to meet Leroy's brother. The infamous Noah that he had told me a lot about. "How was your flight dear?"

"It was wonderful." I nodded with enthusiasm. "I've never flown before. I enjoyed it."

They responded with a light laugh but didn't comment further on my lack of travels. Leroy pulled me in a little closer, his hand resting on the curve of my waist as he leaned down and murmured in a hushed tone, wondering if we should go upstairs. That idea was abruptly interrupted however, when the sound of footsteps came thudding down the staircase, causing us to turn our attention over our shoulders.

A tall boy appeared at the entrance to the living room. He had a leaner build and darker hair, but he bore that same mesmerising attractiveness that his brother did. Leroy had given me a basic run down on Noah. He was a year younger than he was, about to become a senior in high school. He was more business savvy than athletic though. He stuffed his hands into his shorts and made no subtleties about running his gaze over me at a slow and deliberate pace.

I felt Leroy's hand tighten a little and leaned into him as Noah strolled over to stand beside his parents. His gaze lingered, seeming especially focused on my bare legs. But I ignored him and instead focused on the introductions that were being made.

"Ellie, this is my brother Noah, Noah, this is Ellie."

"So you're the girl that has him in all night and refusing to pick up chicks with me," Noah tutted, clacking his tongue with disappointment. I felt Leroy stiffen beside me. But he didn't need to stress out. We had shared the stories of our past. I knew that he had been with girls before I came along and it didn't bother me. He was honest.

"Noah, please," Eleanor scolded her son with a tiresome tone. She smoothed her button-up blouse and politely excused herself to get started on dinner preparations.

"Watch it." Harold glared at his youngest son before he followed after his wife, leaving the three of us in an awkward silence. It didn't last a whole lot longer though.

"Do we get to share this one?" Noah gestured at me with a devious grin.

"Don't Noah," Leroy warned with a tone that almost frightened me. The brothers differed in height, Noah being taller but Leroy was built with muscle and he was intimidating to say the least. "We talked about this. So stop being fucking rude."

Noah rolled his eyes and shifted his weight, putting a little distance between the two of them. He gave me another once over, but this time it wasn't in admiration, but more disgust. "She's not good enough for this family," he muttered before his long legs carried him out of the room.

"Ignore him," Leroy quickly ordered, dropping an arm around me. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of my head before he led us back towards the staircase. "He's just sour because he's got no one to drive him to and from his shameless one night stands and parties now. He's been sulking about it for the last month."

"You don't have to stop going to parties because of me?" I told him as he picked up the suitcase we'd left before. He shot me a puzzled glance as we made tracks upstairs. "I mean, I wouldn't stop you from doing that."

"Would you go with me?"

"Sure." I smiled when he beamed, flashing a show-stopping grin.

"Good. Because I want to show you off."