When You Come Back to Me (Lost Boys #2) - Emma Scott Page 0,80

from every facet of his beautiful face. “I have to go. My mom got some good news from the doctor the other day. I told her I’d be home for dinner.”

I nodded, and the enormity of River in that moment overwhelmed me. His innate goodness, his bravery, his ungodly sexiness…all of him coming together.

And he’s mine. For a little while…

“Go,” I said, hauling myself off the door, though I wouldn’t have been surprised if my flesh had melted to the wood. “Enjoy.”

River started to leave, then took me by the nape and pulled me to him for a final kiss. A deep, delving kiss that left no part of my mouth untouched. Then he released me and stepped out into the night.

I shut the door, feeling drunk. The best kind of drunk. River infused me in every pore, his kiss leaving me stupid with happy euphoria.

Leaving me with a piece of himself so that I wasn’t alone.

Part IV

Chapter Eighteen

May

When the bell rang, I left Chemistry and walked casually to the drinking fountain outside the band room. I pretended to take a sip while checking around to make sure no one was paying attention, then slipped inside.

Holden was already there, lounging sideways on a long table. Light filtered in from slats in a lone, high window, glinting in his silvery hair.

“You’re late,” he drawled, swinging around so that both legs hung off the table.

I wasn’t late; Holden was just being Holden, a sexy, infuriating brat I couldn’t get enough of.

My pulse kicked up as the scent of cloves, cologne, and expensive clothing wafted to me.

“New coat?” I asked.

“Just yesterday,” he said as I moved into the V of his legs. I rested my hands on his thighs, squeezing slightly, feeling the muscles beneath. His green eyes dilated in the dimness. “Cop a feel.”

Everything with Holden was a come-on, an insinuation, or a dare. I touched the cuff of his coat—wool and cashmere—that probably cost more than all the clothes in my closet.

“Nice.”

“You like it? It’s made out of boyfriend material.”

I groaned at the bad joke and then groaned again as I kissed him hard. Deeply. It seemed all of our kisses lately were deeper. More intense. Our nights spent in his guesthouse were a delirium of tangled limbs, sweat-soaked sheets, and grasping hands. We hadn’t done everything, but every lust-fueled touch felt imbedded into my skin.

Because our time is almost up.

Holden stiffened and pulled back. He felt it too, the clock ticking down.

“So where are we going tonight?” he asked. “Another car show? Maybe a monster truck rally?”

I rolled my eyes. “We went to one fucking car show.”

“And yet the experience felt so interminable, it scarred me for life.”

I chuckled. “I learned my lesson. There’s a meteor shower happening tonight. I thought we’d go to the top of Hilton Bluff and watch.”

Holden pursed his lips, his sharp eyes filled with thoughts. Over the last few months, it’d grown harder for us to come up with places to go where no one from school or town would see us. Every day, I waited for Holden to get sick of hiding and curse me out. I wondered if this were the day.

“Why not go up to San Francisco?” he said. “James can drive us, and I’ll bribe our way into a gay club in the Castro. We can dance, get stupid, and be with our people.”

“I can’t dance,” I reminded him.

Except for Prom.

I was still going to Prom with Violet McNamara, despite both of us being with other people. But she and Miller Stratton had an agreement and I didn’t question it. It curled my stomach to admit, but I still needed her.

I waited for Holden to dig at me for that too, but he didn’t.

“I know you can’t dance,” he said. “That’s the point. You trying to dance is what makes it entertaining for me.”

I laughed. “Clubs are not my thing. Too loud. I wouldn’t be able to talk to you.”

“Oh my God,” Holden drawled and pressed his face against my chest. “It’s been months, Whitmore. You’ve seen me naked a hundred times. There is no need to keep saying sweet, River-esque things to woo me. You did it. I’ve been wooed.”

I gripped him by the nape of his neck and gently but firmly tilted his mouth to mine. “You talk too much.”

“Says the guy who claims he wants to talk to me.”

“I want to do both. Kiss you and talk to you.”

“Under a glittering meteor shower, no less,” Holden said and