Read Online A Letter for Annie by Laura Abbot - Free Book Online

out the Sheetrock in your bedroom.”
    Was it just her or were they being overly polite with each other?
    “My great-aunt sleeps quite a bit, but I suppose the repairs have to be made.”
    “I hope to get the roof under control today.” He putone foot on the first rung of the ladder, drawing his jeans tight across his butt.
    Annie tried not to notice, just as she tried to ignore the breadth of his shoulders, the muscular, tanned arm grasping the fourth rung. Unaccustomed heat caused her to blush. His sheer masculinity unleashed long-stifled desire, the suddenness of it taking her aback. Embarrassed, she turned on her heels. “Do what you need to do,” she said more curtly than she’d intended.
    Once safely inside the house, she leaned over, hands on her knees, and took several deep breaths. What was she thinking? Her involuntary reaction to Kyle scared her. He was Pete’s best friend. She couldn’t allow herself—wouldn’t allow herself to think of him that way. Even if Kyle were similarly attracted, which was highly unlikely, any attachment was unthinkable. Just as it had been on that strange May night at the end of their senior year.
    It had been the week before graduation. Even though it was a cool night, a group of seniors had gone to the beach. Gathered around a roaring bonfire, they’d laughed and sung, until Kyle remarked that this might be one of the last times they’d all be together before they moved on to work and college. The mood turned somber and reflective. A few of the girls got teary, and Annie could remember wanting to hold on to the moment and never let it go.
    Instead of scattering to their usual make-out places, the couples all remained by the fire, reminiscing. Pete had snuggled her close, reassuring her. “The best is yet to come,” he whispered. “We’ll have the rest of our livestogether.” She remembered feeling contentment and a sense of being luckier than most of her classmates.
    After midnight when the last sparks of the fire died against the night sky, they’d slowly folded their blankets and ambled toward their cars. Pete was carrying a cooler, and Annie had started to follow him when she noticed Kyle standing apart near the breaking waves. Something about the way he stood there—so separate—broke her heart. Instead of following Pete and the others, she went over to Kyle and put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
    When he shrugged, she turned him toward her, astonished to see tears welling in his eyes. In the distance she heard the shouts of her friends, engines revving. But the beach felt deserted, except for the rhythm of the sea and the boy’s naked, anguished expression. “Kyle?”
    “Don’t, Annie, just don’t,” he said gruffly.
    “Please, what’s wrong?”
    Before she knew what was happening, he’d pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he’d never let her go.
    Abruptly he’d flung her away. “That’s what’s wrong, damn it. You, Annie. You.”
    Then he’d walked off, leaving her standing there with a pounding heart and the slowly dawning realization of what had happened. There had been no mistaking the need in his eyes.
    Kyle. Pete. They were best friends. And Kyle was her friend, too, but something had changed that night.
    Other than at the graduation ceremony, she hadn’t seen Kyle again until the day he’d knocked on Auntie G.’s door.
    Dismissing the memory and its emotional impact, shepulled herself together and returned to the living room and saw that, once again, Auntie G. had rearranged the food on her plate to make it look as if she had eaten something.
    “You’re not fooling me, you know.”
    Geneva shrugged. “I know you’re trying. And the salad looks lovely, but I’m not hungry.” She set her plate on the end table beside her chair.
    Swallowing back the grief tearing at her throat, Annie said, “ Please, Auntie G. Don’t do this.”
    Geneva reached out a gnarled hand and drew Annie onto the floor beside her