The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,351

our palms together. My hands dwarf hers.

“They’re beautiful. And your kids are lucky. Even before I went to Blackwell, I don’t remember my mother cooking a single meal.”

She turns our joined hands over and examines mine. “Tell me about her. Where is she?”

“Right now? In College Station. Hayes came back to town and she scampered. She doesn’t need money since my stepfather left her an annuity. We’ve all been estranged from her for years, except Dare – my youngest brother.”

“Wow. I’m sorry.” The pity in her eyes makes my skin feel one size too small.

“Don’t be. I’m not. Like you said, family isn’t for everyone.” My mother didn’t completely abdicate her role. But she didn’t do much more than was required to keep Child Protective Services off her back.

All the things a parent is supposed to guide you through— friendships, falling in love, learning to drive, getting applications in on time —I taught myself, and then tried to teach my younger brothers. I did the best I could, but it wasn’t always enough.

“Yeah, but still, I’m sorry,” she repeats, her expression not at all what it should be. I don’t want to talk about my mother and tarnish the shine off this last night with the bitterness just talking about her evokes.

“Come here and I’ll show you how you can make it feel better,” I say with a lascivious grin and a waggle of my brows. She laughs, and glides through the water toward me.

Chapter 26

Adieu

Regan

We’ve been quiet most of the morning. Stone’s family has already arrived, and we’ve agreed that when we get back to the resort, he’ll drop me off and go drop off the rental. We won’t see each other again until the night before we’re both set to leave.

I’m bereft of him already.

This trip has been like finding my way home. I was a planet on the verge of extinction, saved by this man’s divine light. I may not get to keep him, but that light, the perspective, the feeling that I can do the hard things I’ve been avoiding – I’m taking those home with me. It’s time to figure out who I am. But God, I wish we had more time.

“I don’t want to go back.” I give up trying to hold it in and sit on the bed, the T-shirt I was folding gripped in my hands.

He joins me, sitting so our thighs touch, but he doesn’t put his arm around me. And I need him to, so desperately.

“I know,” he says, his voice is as hollow as my heart feels.

“Are you okay?” I ask, running my fingers along the soft scruff on his jaw.

He nods. “For now,” he whispers. He leans in and my eyes flutter closed. My lips tingle in anticipation of his touch. Instead of his mouth, the firm pads of his fingers stroke my lips.

My eyes pop open in surprise, and the conflict and misery in his eyes make me want to scream and cry at the same time.

That tortured gaze follows the path of his hand. He runs his fingers up the center of my nose, over the arch of brows, ghosts them over the tips of my lashes and then finally he cups either side of my face.

“You’re so much more than I could have imagined, Regan. I…” His voice is strangled, his eyes full of desperation that makes me tremble. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before he seems to abandon the idea of speaking.

Instead with a groan that sounds like surrender, he swoops down and claims my lips in a searing kiss.

His magical mouth thrills me to the edges of my senses and sends my imagination scouring for a new word to describe what we’re doing.

Because to call this a kiss, is akin to calling pearl, sand. It may start that way, but when pressure, passion, and fate collide– simple, small things become extraordinary, fathomless treasures.

With every breath we share, we are creating something so priceless that we’d be fools to let it go.

I’m falling in love with him.

God help me. How could I be so stupid?

It’s only been a handful of days, but Stone Rivers has already made me feel more alive than I thought possible. I feel connected to the earth, grounded to the moment. When I look at the night sky, I don’t notice the dark. I just see an endless spray of brilliant, blazing possibilities.

We make love one last time. There’s a rhythm, a natural push and pull