“You’re not the problem.” I reminded her.
“You think you are.” She pointed out.
It wasn’t a question. And she wasn’t wrong.
“I’m not like you,” I shrugged. “You’re light. You’re hope. I’ve spent years trying to drink away everything good I ever touched.”
“Why?”
“Because I ruin things,” I answered honestly, eyes drifting back to the stars. “People. Myself. I get too close, and I burn through everything. Drinking made it easier. Made me forget that I was the problem. It numbed all the times I made my mom cry, begging me to get help. To just stop. And when Icouldn’t admit I had a problem, I did the only thing I knew how. I disappeared. I stopped talking to her. Like silence could somehow hurt her less.”
I felt her fingers twitch in mine, but she didn’t let go. Not even then. And maybe that’s why I kept noticing her hand in mine. Because most people pull away when they get too close and see the mess I really am. But she didn’t. Her hand was still in mine. Like maybe I wouldn’t poison her just by touching her.
“You’re not ruining this,” she said gently.
And I wanted to believe her so badly it hurt. But hope was a dangerous thing for people like me. It made you forget about the fire until you were already standing in it.
“I’m not someone you fix,” I told her. “I’m not someone you save.”
“I’m not trying to,” she whispered. “I’m just here. With you.”
And just like that, I felt seen. I felt like maybe it would be okay to forgive myself. Not tonight or next week. But at some point.
My skin ached for her. My thoughts were screaming,don’t ruin this, don’t ruin her.I shook my head and stood up, holding out a hand for Mya and helping her up. We both stared at each other, neither of us knowing what we should do or what we should say. It was weird. She was this stranger, but I had already told her more than I had told anyone else. Maybe it was the fact that I’d never see her again. What was said tonight was just that. Tonight. She wouldn’t be here tomorrow.
I walked us back toward the bike and reached for the helmet when she stopped me, her fingers brushing my arm. It was a light touch, but enough to make me freeze. Her eyes found mine, wide and unreadable, like she was holding something back or about to give something away. Then her back met the side of the bike, chrome glinting in the moonlight behind her like a spotlight.
I stepped closer, slow and unsteady, like a man crossing a line he swore he wouldn’t. My hand hovered near her hip, not quite touching, but I could feel the heat of her skin. I wanted to taste the breath she was holding. But I waited, because wanting her and deserving her were two different things.
“You okay?” I asked. Even now, I had to ask. I had to be sure.
She nodded. “You?”
“I don’t know,” I swallowed. “But I want to be.”
“Then kiss me.” She bit her lip, her voice so soft I almost didn’t hear her. “Just this once. Just for tonight.”
My hand came up, fingers brushing along the curve of her cheek, then tracing the line of her jaw like I was trying to memorize her by touch alone. And then I kissed her. I probably should’ve asked again if she was sure, if she really wanted this… But tonight, I needed to believe I could have something that felt even remotely good.
It wasn’t rushed or messy or anything I used to run away from my past with. It was quiet. Steady. Her lips met mine like it was something she’d been thinking about for a while, something she needed. Her hands moved up my chest slowly, fingers curling into my shirt like she didn’t want to let go. I kissed her back with the same kind of care, like I was afraid to break whatever this was. She didn’t feel like a mistake. She felt like the first right thing I’d let myself want in a long time.
I pressed closer, one hand braced against the bike behind her, the other still holding her face like she might vanish if I let go. She kissed me back like she meant it, like Iwasn’tbroken. I grabbed the side of her hips and lifted her on the bike. I didn’t know what I was doing or what we were doing. I didn’t have a fucking plan here, but I knew I never wanted her lips to leave mine.
The kiss got more aggressive, my thumbs digging into her skin, and I wished this small little dress she was wearing was onthe ground. She wasn’t the type of girl you fuck on your bike and never see again, but I had a feeling that was the type of girl shewantedto be tonight.
Her fingers fisted into my shirt like she needed something to hold onto, and hell if that wasn’t exactly how I felt too. I kissed her harder, deeper, letting all that mess inside me pour out through my mouth and into hers. I didn’t deserve this, deserve her, but right now, she was kissing me like I did. Like I was more than the wreck I kept pretending I wasn’t.
I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, to really see her. Her lips were parted, her eyes a little dazed, like she was still caught up in all of it. I rested my forehead against hers, letting the quiet settle between us. Her skin was warm beneath my hands, and for a second, I just held her there, like I needed the moment to last a little longer before the world came rushing back in. Mya tugged me closer again, her hands skimming my body.
“You sure?” I whispered, voice rough. My thumbs brushed slow circles into her hips.
She nodded once. Small, but sure. And I was gone. I reached down and grabbed the hem of that little dress, just barely skimming the top of her thighs. My hands were shaking, not from nerves, but from how badly I wanted her, how much Ifelther. Every inch of her body was like a magnet, pulling at the parts of me I thought were long dead. Her legs wrapped around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world, like she already knew what we were doing before I did.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” I muttered against her throat, kissing down until she tipped her head back, giving me more. Her skin tasted like summer and sin. Like something I shouldn’t get used to, because I knew I didn’t get to keep her.
She pulled at my hair when I sucked a mark into her collarbone, and I let her. Let her take control for a second. Let her guide us somewhere I wasn’t sure we could come back from. My hands moved again, slow but hungry, trailing up her thighs under that damn dress. Every touch made her exhale like she was finally letting herself fall.
And I was right there with her. I could’ve stopped. Probably should have. But nothing about this felt wrong. Not when she was gripping me like I was the only thing she wanted in this world. Not when she kissed me like she didn’t care about tomorrow.
