JENNIE

I tore open the bag of microwave popcorn, a steam cloud full of the scent of butter and salt bursting forth as I shook the contents out into a large glass bowl.

"Always" by Saliva played on the iPod, and I bobbed my head to the music. Tossing the bag away, I grabbed two Coronas out of the refrigerator.

"All right. Your windows are all secure," my brother called as he pounded down the stairs. "I'm surprised you don't have shutters, though. I thought you'd think of that, Miss Self-Sufficient."

I shook my head, handing him a beer. "Well, consider it my next project."

He grabbed the bottle opener out of the drawer and popped the top. "There's no way you're hanging out the windows to install them yourself, Jennie. You're hiring someone to do that job."

I shook more salt onto the popcorn. "I was going to."

"No, you weren't," he deadpanned.

I laughed to myself. No, I wasn't.

Installing shutters sounded fun. Of course, I'd have little knowledge of what I was doing, and by the time I was done, the house would probably look like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, but it'd be something new to learn.

And it would get Mingyu off my back.

I think it honestly bugged him that I didn't need his help more, which was why he reveled in situations such as these. It gave him the opportunity to hover even when I'd assured him the house was ready for a storm. Windows and doors secure, batteries and flashlights stocked in the kitchen drawer, and food and water shelved in the pantry if need be. That was about all we could do.

The ominous clouds this morning had turned into a light rain this afternoon, and after considering the forecast for the next forty-eight hours, most schools in the parish had decided to close. E-mails and letters were sent home to parents, and I posted in the Facebook groups, reminding students that the chapter test was still set for Friday and to continue with their reading to prepare.

I'd come home, changed into some pajama shorts and my Loyola Wolf Pack T-shirt, and then downloaded some scary movies. Mingyu had rushed over to make sure I was safe.

"Maybe I should stay here," he offered, leaning against the counter behind me.

I picked two cloth napkins out of the drawer and then popped the top on my Corona. "Mingyu, when was I born?" I asked, not looking at him.

"November seventh."

"What year?" I pressed.

"Nineteen ninety-one."

"Which makes me how old?" I ran my hand over the napkin, smoothing the folded rectangle as I waited.

"Twenty-three." He sighed.

I turned and looked at him, his contrite expression telling me he understood everything I didn't say. He didn't need to hold my hand during a rainstorm or worry that I'd cross paths with a black cat.

"I'm twenty-three," I reiterated. "I don't worry that you can take care of yourself."

"I haven't gone through what you've gone through," he said, sounding defensive but sad. "You were sixteen when he started…"

I looked away, swallowing the lump blocking my airway.

"When he started following you, texting you, terrorizing you…" Mingyu went on, looking pained.

I shook my head. "Mingyu," I warned, wanting him to stop.

"You never knew what was coming." He squeezed the neck of the bottle in his hands. "You never knew whether he was going to show up in —"

"Mingyu, stop," I gritted out, cutting him off.

"I know you have guilt about Lia and our parents… about that night —"

I snapped my eyes up to his. "Enough!" I ordered.

He held my eyes, both of us frozen in the kitchen as the sound of fat raindrops pounded the roof and windows.

His expression hardened, turning from sad to challenging, and he set down his beer and powered into the living room, going straight for the bookshelf.

My arms heated with fear, and my throbbing heart pounded harder as I watched him reach onto one of the shelves and unearth the small wooden chest nestled there.

He turned around, gesturing to the locked box.

"What are you keeping in here?" he demanded.

But I clamped my jaw shut. He was invading my privacy, and I refused to give in.

"Open it," he ordered, knowing that I had the key.

I tipped my chin up and tried to calm my racing heart. "No," I answered calmly.

"Jennie." His jaw flexed. "Open it."

I looked away. How the hell had he known something was in there?

My eyes burned, and I blinked long and hard. I can't open the box. I wouldn't. It hadn't been opened in five years, and this was none of my brother's business.

"No."

He stared at me, shaking his head, probably not knowing what to do.

He walked over, speaking quietly. "You keep the past too close. You're not moving on." His eyes searched my face, almost pleading. "I don't know what's in there, but I know it's too heavy a weight for you to carry around with you. You're twenty-three. You say you're a woman, but you still live within the lines as if you were a child." He dropped his eyes, whispering in a shaky voice, "You don't step out of the box, Jennie."

I let out a breath and turned, walking back to my popcorn. "That's not true."

"Do you have any friends?" he challenged, following me. "Who was the last person to make you laugh? When was the last time you went to bed with someone more than once?"

I ground my teeth together, picking up the snacks and walking back to the living room.

But Mingyu kept pressing, "Has anyone other than me ever been in this apartment?" he asked.

I slammed my food down on the coffee table and picked up the remote.

"I'm tired of seeing you alone," he burst out. "I'm ready to burn this fucking place down and everything in it, so you're forced to leave the safety of your little shell!"

"Ugh!" I grabbed a handful of popcorn and flung it at him, the popped kernels hitting his face.

He jerked back, struck dumb by what I'd done.

Dropping his gaze, he arched an eyebrow, looking down at the white puffs on the floor.

I snorted, trying to contain my laugh, and he couldn't keep from smiling either, as he looked up at me.

"Ask me how old you are again," he grumbled. "I think I'd like to change my answer."

He brushed off crumbs from his shirt as I kept laughing.

But then we both jerked, a knock on the front door catching our attention.

Mingyu looked to me, a question in his eyes, but I shrugged. I had no idea who would be knocking on my door. He was right, after all. I had no friends.

I walked into the hallway, my bare feet quiet against the hardwood floor.

"Who is it?" I called, leaning up on my tiptoes to see into the peephole.

And my stomach instantly dropped. I fell away from the door, landing back on the heels of my feet.

What the hell?

"Jennie?" she called through the door. "It's Lisa Manoban."

I pinched my eyebrows together and shot up, peeping through the hole again.

How does she know where I live?

She was still dressed in the same suit from today, although her tie was loosened and her hair was wet, probably due to the rain. Her head was cast downward as she waited, and I dropped to my feet again, realizing I was breathing a mile a minute.

I couldn't have a parent from school at my house. What did she think she was doing?

I unlocked the dead bolts and chain but opened the door only enough to fit my body between it and the frame.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded. "This is my home."

She leaned a hand against the door frame and raised her eyebrows, a cocky smile dancing across her face.

"I made you come on a desk this morning," she pointed out. "I can't stop by your house?"

A snort that turned into a quiet laugh escaped from behind me, and I peeked over my shoulder to see my brother leaning against the frame between the living room and the entryway, smiling.

"Is someone here?" Lisa stood up straight, narrowing her eyes on me.

I inhaled a deep breath. "What do you want?" I asked, getting to the point.

She pushed her wet hair back over the top of her forehead and stuck her other hand in her pocket, all of a sudden looking nervous.

She cleared her throat, raising her hesitant gaze up to mine. "I want to apologize."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Don't worry, Ms. Manoban. This morning is our little secret. Just go away."

I moved to close the door, but she shot out her hand, keeping it open.

"Jennie," she called out, sounding unusually gentle. "I should never have been rough with you today, and I'm sorry."

Rough with me?

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. "Why?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you sorry?" I demanded, forgetting my brother standing nearby.

Lisa Manoban was never gentle, and I'd never given her the impression that I had a problem with that. Why did she suddenly feel bad?

She opened her mouth, looking like she wasn't sure what to say. "I…" She cleared her throat again. "I just don't feel like I've treated you as well as you should be treated," she admitted.

I stood there, frozen in place and staring at her suspiciously. What the hell was going on?

When had I ever given her the impression that I couldn't take what she dished out? And now she was worried about me?

"All right." My brother grabbed the door and opened it completely, breaking me out of my daze. "I'm out." She leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Be safe and…" He looked at Lisa as he slipped past both of us and through the door. "We'll meet another time."

He jogged down the steps, his dark green T-shirt slowly turning black in the rain as he ran for his Jeep.

Lisa looked after him and then turned to me, cocking her head. "I'm not a jealous person, but for you I might make an exception."

Huh?

And then I realized she'd never met my brother. She thought Mingyu was a lover.

"No need to be jealous," I reassured her. "You're the parent of a student and nothing more."

She looked away, shaking her head at my audacity.

But then her expression cleared and she looked at me pointedly. "Why didn't you tell me you played tennis professionally?" she asked.

My face fell. "You had me investigated?" I accused.

"No. I know how to Google, thank you," she retorted. "You're as much of a mystery as my son, so I looked you up."

My hand fell off the door handle, and I searched my brain for a way to deter her without making her more curious.

She stepped through the door, and I backed away, letting her in.

"There wasn't so much on Jennie Kim, the Loyola student or teacher," she told me, closing the door behind her. "But there were thousands of hits and pictures on you as an athlete." She inched closer to me, not giving up. "Tennis player, close family, promising future that crashed and burned when…" She trailed off, and I looked up, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes.

I smoothed my hand down my T-shirt and shorts, steeling my spine.

Now she knew everything. Nearly everything.

There were articles, video footage, interviews… My rise had been highly publicized, and so had my fall.

When my parents and sister died on that rainy night in a vicious accident, I'd lost everything. My routine, the world as I knew it, and my desire to play.

Who was I if I wasn't the star in their lives, and why the hell did I want to play tennis anymore anyway?

It was my fault they'd been driving that night, and when it was time to get back on the court, my will to play was gone. Even now, on the rare occasion I tried, my game had gone to shit.

My magnificent exit and display of temper were forever digitized. I'd forfeited the match and walked off the court, pushing cameras and microphones out of my face as I left for the last time.

"Jennie, I'm sorry." Manoban reached out and touched my cheek

But I pushed her hands away and stepped back. "Stop apologizing."

How dared she act like I needed to be put back together?

"Don't handle me, Lisa," I growled. "I'm tired of everyone hovering and sticking their noses in. You don't matter," I shot out bitterly, "so stop trying to push your way in."

I charged into the living room, but she grabbed my arm and swung me back around, pulling me to her. I crashed against her chest, the rain on her clothes like ice against my arms and legs, and my breath caught.

"Yeah." She nodded. "I don't matter. I don't matter so much that there was no way in hell you could say no to me today," she charged. "And I'd be willing to bet I'm the first person you can't say no to, because it's the same way for me."

She bent her head down to mine, our noses brushing. "You're strong and proud, resilient and capable. I can see that." Her voice was thick, like she was feeling more than she was saying. "I value those qualities in a person, Jennie. You don't give anyone an inch, and it's like looking into a mirror, because it's the same independence I value." She looked at me like a dare and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer and whispering, "And when I touch you, I can't explain what I feel, but I know you're feeling me, too."

I closed my eyes, inhaling her sweet scent of cologne and leather – probably from her car – and even the cold rain on her clothes couldn't cool me down now.

I let my head fall to the side against her chest as I spoke, closing my eyes. "Everyone watched me all the time." I trembled. "The cameras, the crowd, my parents… Everything I did was under a microscope."

I slipped my arms inside her jacket and wrapped them around her waist.

"If my lips were tight, then I was angry," I told her, reminiscing about the commentators' assumptions as they watched me on the court. "If I hesitated, I was scared. If I didn't smile at the camera, I was a spoilsport…"

I dipped my nose into her shirt, inhaling a long breath before I looked up at her. "Everything was judged." I shrugged. "And when my parents and younger sister died in a car accident, it only got worse. Everyone was in my face."

I pulled away, turning around and crossing my arms over my chest.

"So I started over," I told her. "Mingyu and I moved to New Orleans, went to college, and let the past go."

I turned and locked eyes with her. The room looked so small with her in it, and I realized that she was the first person, other than my brother, who'd been in my apartment. Droplets of rain spilled down her temple and neck, and I licked my lips, trying to keep the libido that was beginning to heat low in my stomach chained.

I cleared my throat. "But after five years, my brother still tries to hold my hand. He still worries about me. Am I happy? Do I smile enough?" I approached Lisa, dropping my arms to my sides. "He forgets that I'm a grown woman."

I slipped my hand against her, resting it there lightly. "But you don't," I whispered, seeing her fist curl, holding mine inside it.

"I didn't know," she said softly, her breath fanning across my forehead. "I should've treated you —"

I cut her off, looking up. "I like how you are with me. You're not careful with me. You see more of me than anybody else does."

I pressed my body against her, arching up on my toes and leaning toward her lips. Her breath hitched, and I slipped my hands inside her jacket again and gripped her waist.

"Don't be careful with me, Lisa," I whispered, catching her bottom lip, sucking it quickly and then letting it go. "Please," I pleaded.

And she groaned, closing her eyes and diving in.

She held me to her body and captured my mouth, moving over my lips slow but hard. She tasted cool and fresh, like water, but then she pulled away and dove for my neck.

I gasped, her hot breath on my skin causing chills to spread over my body as she kissed and bit me gently.

"Don't be careful," I reminded her in a whimper as I reached up and circled her neck with my arms, holding her to me.

She picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around her waist, kissing her with full force on the mouth.

"Your clothes are all wet," I rushed out between kisses, breathless. "Get them off."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, nibbling at my mouth.

"Do what?" I played, licking and biting her jaw, hearing her suck in a breath. "Fuck like animals in my bed upstairs?"

Her fingers dug into the skin of my ass, and I went to town with my tongue. I attacked her neck, her jaw, and her lips, squeezing my thighs around her.

"Fuck." She stilled, holding me tight. "Just wait. Hold on," she gasped, dropping me back down to my feet and letting me go.

"What's wrong?" My voice trembled. I was so fucking turned on, and she'd just stopped.

Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her face was twisted as she breathed in and out. "Shit, that's painful," she cursed, the bulge in her pants hard and ready.

What was she waiting for?

"What's wrong? Is it Luca?" I asked gently, feeling guilty.

She shook her head. "No," she choked out. "He's away for a couple of days." She jerked her chin to the stairs. "Go get dressed."

"Why?"

I curled my toes into the floor, my clit pounding like my heartbeat during a run. I didn't want to leave. What the hell?

"Now," she ordered, her voice hard and pissed off. "I'm taking you to dinner. Go get dressed."