nudged my cheek with his nose as every solid part of him met every soft part of me.
Everything coalesced into a quiet hum. The waves, our breaths, and the rapid beating of my heart. “No.” He was right. We didn’t. It came alive, this feeling that coursed between us, and when that happened, nothing else was needed. Just us.
Humming, he dragged his lips over my cheek, fire crawling in their wake, and whispered across my mouth, “Being with you, I’ve never felt anything more instinctual or more natural in my life.”
It ached and bloomed, that organ in my chest. How something could grow, knowing it would need to end, wasn’t something I was willing to dissect.
I took the moment, the feeling of his skin beneath my hands, his own holding me as if he’d never let me sink, and I drowned inside it.
Our lips collided, our lungs sharing breath as our bodies found purchase among a slippery, perilous environment.
Graham stabbed a finger on the map spread out over our dining table. “I think we should follow the interstate. Go straight through.”
I sipped my tea in the doorway, watching on.
Dad scratched at his beard. “It’s a solid plan, but you need to remember the money you guys have won’t last long. You might need to stop some places longer to make some cash.”
Everett stared at the map. Those long, thick fingers stroking the scruff lining his chin the only sign he was listening.
“Between us, we’ve saved enough,” Hendrix said.
Mom didn’t look convinced. The fine lines that spread from her eyes, around her mouth, and pressed into her forehead deepened as her gaze bounced from Hendrix to Dad to Everett.
I wondered if I had the same tight look on my own face.
They were leaving.
I probably did because later that night when everyone had left, there was a collection of taps on my bedroom window. I opened it to let Everett in, then made sure my door was locked as he climbed through and kicked off his shoes.
“I got you something,” he said, and I raised my eyes from his worn boots. I doubted he’d worn the same pair since I’d known him, but if not, he would have found some other scuffed-up pair at the town’s thrift store.
He needs this, I tried to tell myself. We could only love and support him so much. He needed this opportunity to get out and make a better life for himself. And I had to wonder if that was what love was? Did loving someone grant you the ability to smother your own desperation long enough to see theirs? To want to aid in setting them free from their demons within?
His eyes held mine and softened at what he must’ve seen in them. “Come here.” He set the small silver potted cacti down on my nightstand, then gathered me into his arms.
My nose found the dip below his throat, and I inhaled deeply, trying to capture his scent, needing to lock it away. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be.”
“It’s not forever, Clover,” he said, his hand smoothing over the back of my head. “You’ll finish school, I’ll eventually get my head on straight, and we’ll never have to end.”
Lifting my head from his chest, I stared up into his somber, resolute face. “Eventually.”
My hands found the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. My nightgown ended up on the floor with his tattered jeans, socks, and boots. As he climbed over me on the bed, I tucked my fingers into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down.
He stilled. “Clover, we can’t—”
“You’re leaving, I’m seventeen, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again.” I kept my tone gentle, but firm. “I’ve waited, Ever. For you.”
His eyes shut at the name only I called him. When they reopened, they were infused with fire.
He snatched my panties, tossing them onto his pile of clothes, and then my legs were spread wide, and his mouth was kissing the top of my mound. “Not worthy.”
My breath hitched when his fingers opened me to the cool breeze drifting in through the open window, and then the velvet warmth of his tongue was sliding through me, over me, dipping inside me.
I’d never done this before, but then again, before Everett, all I’d done was kiss a few boys and have them make a grab for my breasts.
It was intoxicating, the sensations that thundered through me. The low hum he made