Where present meets past . . .

 

As he stared at her, his heart twisting with pain, he saw how much the girl looked like the mother. The shock of seeing her, standing behind the counter, caused him to tremble, stirring up a past he’d thought buried.

"I . . . am . . . not . . .  my . . .  mother!" Theda Johnson yelled. "I'm not! I'm the bi-product of a teen romance. I'm not about to repeat my mother's mistake."
        So here I am. Running away from another problem. Seems that's all I do.  I'm learning flight is less painful than fighting.

 

"Stop," Theda cried, half-heartedly slapping at the boy. "Kelsey, I'm serious. Quit! I'm not going to be tossed in the hay, not even by you."
       Kelsey ignored her words as he held her down. He put a hand on each temple, holding her head still. She gave up fighting, feeling her world tilt as he closed his mouth over hers. He was stealing the breath from her body, yet she was breathing in and out with him.  . . .
       His brain kicked in, sending him the message that he was forcing Theda to do something she didn't want to do. He drew back to look into her brown eyes--wide and dark with fear.
       "Thea, oh baby, I'm so sorry. That was a little more than I bargained for, too." He rolled off her. He lay on his back, looking at the rafters. He turned on his side to face her, propping his head with his hand. She refused to look at him. He sat up, running a hand through his hair.
        "Jeez, this is driving me nuts." . . .
       Kelsey rose, pulling Theda to her feet. He let go of her hands, unable to touch her without itching for more. He turned away from her, "Maybe I should take Nicole up on her offer," he muttered to himself. Aloud he said: "God, I can't stand being with you anymore. You tease too much."