In the past fourteen years, Reilly occasionally found her memory slipping back to the past, but every time it did, she would emphatically slam the door closed. She'd never spoken to Max again until now.

Charles Saladino, better known as Max, had been the forbidden boy next door when Reilly was blossoming from tomboy to ravishing blonde.

The summer she met him, he was just another hormone-raging nineteen-year-old boy. Rumor had it he'd sampled every willing girl in town. Peering from behind her bedroom curtains, she watched him and his friends race their motorcycles up and down the street while her dad stood on the front porch yelling and shaking his fist, "Hoodlums! No good hoodlums."

One day while walking home from college, Max and his motorcycle buddies cruised by her. While her heart throbbed in her throat, she pretended not to notice them. When she ignored the wolf whistles, Max stopped his motorcycle directly in front of her. He smiled, irresistibly. "Your chariot awaits, my lady."

Those smoldering eyes dared her to take a spin on his motorcycle. From almost the moment she pressed against his back and wrapped her arms around him, she knew she was in love. During the next six months, every second she could steal, they were together. To an eighteen-year-old's heart, he was heaven.

During the Christmas break, Max rented a motel room and introduced her to the art of lovemaking. He took his time, gently teasing her body with soft butterfly kisses. His lips nuzzled her throat, moving down to her breasts, his tongue lashing at her nipples until they were like hard pebbles. He licked and sucked, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She begged for more and more. Much later, while the warm shower massaged her most tender parts, she still wanted more.

After her first taste of his manhood, she was insatiable. The break was a whirlwind of sexual encounters wherever and whenever they could steal time alone. Reilly was on top of the world. She'd fallen in love. Every day, she fell a little harder.  Max was her future!

On the last day of holiday break, they lay side by side in bed, their bodies depleted. Max appeared nervous, even distracted. He made love to her, but the passion was missing.

"Max, what's up? Is something wrong?"

Propped against the headboard, he drew in a deep breath, slowly letting it escape. "It's not important. Let's talk about it later."

"No, tell me now. You're driving me crazy." Jumping up, she knelt on the bed beside him, leaning close to his face, "I love you, Max. I've never told another guy that, but you're different."

"Yeah, well, you aren't half-bad yourself." He reached for her, pulling her down on top of him. She could feel him pulsing against her stomach. His lips nuzzled her throat.

"Hmmm ... are you going to tell me what's wrong?" She snuggled closer, enjoying the electric shockwaves flowing through her traitorous body.

"Nothing's wrong from where I'm laying." His hands were slowing massaging her back, moving lower and lower.

Reilly pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible. "You aren't getting off that easy. Now tell me what's going on."

They sat there, staring at each other. The only sound was their breathing. Finally, Max blurted, "I joined the Army."

"You're kidding me, right?" The heat coursing through her body turned to ice water. She glared at him, waiting for the punch line and the deep thunderous laughter she loved while fear gnawed at her stomach.

"No, really, I enlisted. I leave in two weeks."

"But ... but what about school?" It wasn't what she wanted to ask. She wanted to know what about them, their future. She wanted him to make it right. She wanted this awful feeling to go away.

"There's no way I'm going to graduate. Pops told me to get a job or get out."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it." She kept hoping this was a joke, a terrible stupid joke. "And if he did, you can get a job. We can still be together."

"Get real! Who's going to hire me? Besides, I aced the entrance exam. The recruiter said I was Army material." 

"Of course he did. That's his job." The bile in her mouth tasted awful, but the pain growing in her heart was much worse. Suddenly, everything that had felt beautiful, now felt dirty. She'd been a fool, believing he loved her.

She slid off the bed, turning her back to him while she slipped into her jeans and t-shirt. Crying wasn't an option. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Her heart was shattered and she wanted to strike back, to hurt him too.

"Well, it's been fun. Your pathetic attempts at sex were getting boring anyhow. Trent's been begging me for weeks to dump you. So go ahead, play soldier boy. See if I care!" Without giving him the opportunity to explain, she walked out, quietly closing the door behind her. She didn’t shed a single tear until she was several blocks away. Then the sobs racked her body for hours.

In the next eight years, she married Trent, had a baby, realized her mistake and filed for divorce. Men weren't necessary in her life. Her heart belonged to Macy.