Sea Breeze 04 - Just for Now

turned on the seat vents to cool them down. My dad may not be good for a lot of things, but he sure came in handy when I needed a car. His owning several Mercedes dealerships assured me that I’d have the best when it came to vehicles.
    “What did you mean upstairs about not kissing you while I, uh, did other things?”
    What kind of game was he playing? Did he really want to relive this with me?
    “Exactly what you think it means, Preston. You were there. You should know.”
    He was staring at me. I didn’t glance over at him. I focused on driving.
    “I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t as confused as fucking hell right now.”
    How was he confused? I had been very specific. He hadn’t kissed me once while we had sex. That was pretty dang clear.
    “I really don’t want to rehash this. It happened. We were acting like it didn’t up until just now, so let’s go back to that. M’kay?
    I tightened my hold on the steering wheel and turned into the traffic. Neither of us said anything for a few moments. Maybe he’d decided to grant my request.
    “Manda, are you telling me that we . . . had sex?”
    The disbelief in his voice was my first clue. Well, maybe it was the first clue that I’d picked up on. I had missed the other clues. The ones where he didn’t explain or frowned like I was crazy. But slowly it was dawning on me. He didn’t remember!
    If the humiliation could get any worse, it just did. He had forgotten we’d had sex. I’d given the jerk my virginity like an idiot, and he’d been with so many girls he couldn’t remember me. Wow. I thought I was over this rejection, but this new knowledge caused a lump in my throat. How could he?
    “Manda, answer me, please. Before I force you to pull this car over and look at me.” Preston’s voice sounded panicked. Why? Didn’t he forget girls he’d screwed all the time? I was now one of many.
    “I just want to take you home and leave. Let’s not talk about this.”
    “Fuck,” Preston growled beside me, and threw his head back against the headrest. “It wasn’t a dream. It’s a memory. Shit. ”
    A dream? What was he talking about? Now I was confused.
    “Manda, please tell me I didn’t . . .” He stopped and swallowed loudly, then took a deep breath. “Please tell me I didn’t . . . I didn’t have sex with you in a storage room. On boxes.”
    I couldn’t exactly tell him that. So I didn’t respond. I kept on driving.
    “Fuck me!” Preston roared, and balled up his hands into fists on his legs.
    “I already did that. Didn’t end well,” I replied.
    “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” The emotion in his voice surprised me. Was it that big a deal that we’d had sex? It hadn’t been very memorable for him, obviously. So why was he having a breakdown about it now? I was the one who should be upset. Not him.
    “I’m just being honest,” I replied as I pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building.
    “I thought it was a dream,” he said in a low voice. His head was still back on the headrest and his eyes were closed tightly. I felt a little sorry for him.
    “I’m not going to tell Marcus. If I was going to tell him, I would have done so by now.” I was reassuring him. I couldn’t help myself. I hated seeing him so upset.
    Preston opened his eyes and looked at me. “I’m not upset because I think you’re going to tell your brother.” He let out a ragged sigh. “But I guess you’d think that of me. Why wouldn’t you?”
    “You have sex with different girls every night. I was one of them one night. Maybe just the first one that night. Who knows?” The bitterness in my voice couldn’t be helped.
    Preston’s expression looked tortured. “Manda. I was drunk. Very, very drunk. I woke up the next morning and thought it was all a dream. I’ve actually relived it many times in my dreams since then. I never realized I’d . . . God, I can’t believe I took you to a storage unit behind a bar.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
    Okay. I couldn’t take this anymore. He was beating himself up over this, and it was partly my fault. I’d been the idiot, to go outside with him and allow what had happened to happen. I could have put a stop to it.
    “I could have stopped it. I didn’t want to,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell him that I’d been fantasizing about having sex with him for years. That was the one piece of this secret I could keep to myself.
    “Why? Why would you let me do