“Promise me you won’t meet him alone.” I dragged a hand through her hair, hating the way my heart ached. “Not for anything.”
“I promise, Jesse.” She blinked and tears welled in her eyes. “You’ll call me a lot, right?”
“I’ll probably drive you mad.”
Her giggle deteriorated into a whine as she set her forehead against my own. “I don’t think that’s possible. I miss you already.”
Slowly, she pressed her lips to my cheek then below my ear. A breathy groan rose from my chest as she leaned to trail kisses down my neck. My whole body shuddered, and I gripped the back of her head, pulling her mouth to mine. She sunk into my chest—her skin melting against mine. Familiar with her mouth, I took my sweet time kissing her, tasting one lip then the other. Eager for deeper, her mouth opened, and I tangled one hand into the back of her hair,pressing her in, as my other hand traveled the arch of her back and toyed with the strap tied at the back of her neck.
When we pulled apart, our breaths were ragged and my voice scraped. “I want to dance with you.”
Her smile glimmered in the dark. “Let’s do it.”
“But I want to try something that might feel kind of vulnerable.”
Her brows rose. “Like what?”
“Just wait and see. If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
Out of the truck bed, I slipped on my t-shirt and made my way to the truck. Hollie searched for her dress and waited by the tailgate for me. Snatching my phone from the console, I pulled up my playlists, wanting slow and romantic songs. In hindsight, I should’ve prepared a list for this moment, but I didn’t have time. Honestly, it hadn’t even crossed my mind. My usual list was just favorites—a total gamble if I hit shuffle. But I had one other list—one that Laurel and I listened to.
A playlist calledUs.
They were songs she called swoony and romantic. I’d listened to them with her so many times they were imprinted on my soul. Perfect for slow dances. Hollie would like them, too.
A beat of conflict in my chest caused my thumb to hover over the playlist.
I wanted to share them with Hollie. I wanted her to love these songs with me, too.
But they were Laurel’s.
I rubbed my lips together, still feeling Hollie pressed against me. Still aching for her. Still aching for Laurel. Still worried I’d somehow lose them both forever.
“I love you, Laurel. You know I always will.” My nose stung as I whispered. “I love Hollie, too.” I wasn’t sure Laurel could hear me, but I needed to hear my own confession. “I’m going to use our songs, because I think you’d like to see me happy while I listen to them.”
With shaking hands, I double checked my bluetooth connection, upped the volume, hitshuffle, thenplay.
Dust to Dustby the Civil Wars.
Heat rose to my eyes as the starting chords reverberated throughthe truck speakers, carving a hole into my chest—the pain and longing and hope so intertwined I couldn’t tell where each started and began. But maybe that was exactly how this moment should feel.
Then I did the final thing.
I flicked on the headlights, washing the grassy riverbank in a soft blanket of yellow.
My heart threatened to come out of my chest as I grabbed Hollie’s hand and tugged her toward the front of the truck. As I pulled her into the stream of light, her eyes widened with understanding and darted toward the river where our shadows stretched all the way to the other bank.
Larger than life, looming, distorted. Darkness we could dance with.
She pressed her trembling lips together as her brow furrowed.
“Watch us,” I whispered, more demanding than I meant to be.
“Jesse.” Her whisper came out on a whimper.
“I want you to see how beautiful you are when you dance.”
