I don’t know if I fell for her when she bent over in a sundress with no bra
Or when she pressed a glass of lemonade into my hand and said, “You’ve got such soft lips. Ever use them for anything bad?”
Mrs. Landon had been my best friend’s mom for years. A perfect wife in public lipstick flawless, pearls always on, smile tight as a ribbon. But beneath the surface?
She watched me.
Lingering looks.
Little touches.
I was biting her lip when I stretched by the pool.
And I started imagining things things I’d never imagined before.
Until one night, she stopped pretending.
It began with a text
Her message came at 6:17 p.m.
“Closet needs organizing. Come over. Wear something easy to take off.”
My heart stopped.
Was it a joke?
Was she flirting?
Was I dreaming?
I stared at it for three
