Brody shakes his head. “Not better than Alyssa.”
He reaches out a fisted hand and I pound it. We sit back and finish our beers in silence.
Maybe Stanford not picking me up is a blessing after all. Maybe Ember and I can be one of those couples who stay together forever. I can take over the vineyard. We can get married, and at our wedding people will talk about how we were high school sweethearts. We’ll have kids, grow old, and I’ll have her breakfast ready before she wakes up in the morning, and we’ll do old people things, like garden and golf.
Yeah.
YEAH.
Fuck you, Stanford.
I don’t need you.
I have Ember Dane.
And we’re meant to be.
* * *
Turns out,Ember doesn’t share my hesitance about Saturday night dinner.
“That sounds great.” She smiles and nods happily, stretching out on her twin bed in her small room. I look over at her sister’s bed. I made a fool of myself when Ember brought me in here tonight and I asked why she had two beds in her room. Ember laughed and kissed me, pulling back once to mouth the wordprivileged.
I laughed too, and then resumed kissing her. My lips on hers has quickly become one of my favorite pastimes. It ranks somewhere close to soccer. Hell, it may even surpass it.
Ember was the one who pulled away first, gasping for breath. She giggled and placed a hand over her heart. That’s when I told her about my mom’s dinner invite, and her eyes lit up in excitement.
“You should come early. I’ll show you around the property.” I’ll have to get a crash-course from my dad first. He’ll probably die of shock that I’m showing interest.
“I’ve never been to a vineyard before.” Her voice is dreamy.
From my back I roll to my side, pushing up onto an elbow and peering down at her.
“Are you dating me for my vineyard?” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“Ding ding ding!” She pokes my chest as she says each word. “We have a winner!”
Dipping my head, my lips suspended millimeters above hers, I whisper “I’ll take my prize now.”
Ember doesn’t wait for me to lower my lips. She lifts up, and with a hand cupping the back of my neck, pulls me down with her.
I love this about her. Willing, wanting, and not at all embarrassed by it.
I kiss her until my lungs nearly burst. She kisses me until her cheeks are scarlet and her body trembles. My hand moves down to the hem of her shirt, and I feel her sharp intake of breath when I grab a fistful of fabric and lift it. I make my way down her torso, kissing her exposed neck and collarbone as I go.
My goal is to start at the belly button and make my way up to her breasts. Every time we kiss she presses them against me, and it’s been killing me not to be able to touch them and taste them. This is the first time we’ve been alone, and the first time we’ve been horizontal. It’s like her body is a display window of confections, and I’m a kid with a fistful of money, just waiting to be let in.
I lift her shirt higher, but I’m distracted before the fabric can ascend her breasts. On Ember’s right side and extending across her ribcage, is a tattoo.
“When did you get this?” My fingers trace the exploding dandelion, following the little pieces that float onto her ribs. It’s mesmerizing…and sexy.
Ember props herself on her elbows and looks down at me. Over the swell of her breasts I spy her face, eyes hooded and pink lips parted.
Lowering my head, I kiss her tattoo, then trail my tongue over it, leaving goosebumps in my wake. What is it about her having a tattoo that is making me want to ravage her?
“Last September,” Ember pants, lying back down. Her hand runs through my hair. “On my eighteenth birthday.”
“I like it,” I say, my words muffled by her warm skin.
