When she moved her hips again, it wasn't rushed. It was intentional – the kind of motion that invited me to follow.
So I did.
My hands slid along her spine, guiding and holding, the rhythm between us built – steady at first, then stronger – until sensation blurred into something heady and overwhelming.
After that, there was no pretending to take it slow.
As our hips moved and lips met and hands explored, the world narrowed until nothing existed beyond the girl in my arms.
Nothing else mattered – not the barn, not the truck, and not the way time seemed to fall away.
Oh, yeah, I was definitely in trouble.
And I liked it.
With a breathless laugh against my ear, Tessa said, "That was incredible. And you know what?"
I felt almost too dazed to think. "What?"
"We should do this again."
I brushed a kiss against her shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Definitely. But you know what else?"
I ran a slow hand over her smooth back. "What?"
She gave my ear a playful nibble. "We're still not watchingRambo."
82
That Isn't Me
Tessa
Maisie didn't look happy. "He never came home.Andhe made his friend lie about it."
We were sitting together on the sofa, and I'd never seen her look so sad, which of course made me feel incredibly guilty, considering I'd been happily gone for the past two nights – no,threenights if I counted that unfortunate night in the recliner.
But it's not like I'd been completely out of touch. Ihadtexted Maisie so she wouldn't worry. But I'd been so caught up with everything else that the time had passed in a blur.
When I wasn't at the coffee shop, I'd been spending all of my time with Ryder, who was so addicting that I'd barely come up for air.
Come to think of it, this was the first time I'd seen Maisie in days, which made it tricky to process what she'd just said about Griff.
Homewas the dumpy boathouse, which she had just seen for the very first time. This might've been nothing remarkable, except for the fact that while she was there, she'd overheard Griff telling a friend he'd been out all night – a night hehadn'tspent with Maisie.
And the friend?
That could only be Ryder.
But no.That couldn't be true, because already I'd counted the days in my head, and the incident in question had happened barely an hour before Ryder and I had left Mackinac Island for our movie date.
The timing wasn'tquiteimpossible, but it still beggared belief. Ryder surely would've mentioned it.Right?And yet, I heard myself ask, "Which friend?"
She eyed me like the answer should be obvious. "Ryder."
What?It made no sense. "But how wouldheknow that Griff never came home?" Again, I consulted a mental calendar. The night Griff was missing would've been thenightbeforeour movie date, when Ryder had called me sounding buzzed.
