“One time, after the woman and her daughter had been missing for a while, Miranda trusted her gut that something was wrong and alerted authorities, concerned for their wellbeing. She was devastated when she learned of the woman’s passing, and always wondered what became of the daughter."
I give Evan a soft smile, grateful to hear that someone was looking out for them both, even if it wasn’t enough to save Ryann in the end. “I guess now we know,” I tell him.
“That’s who she meant when she said she reunited with an old friend. What are the odds?” Evan hums, squeezing me.
“What are the odds ofanyof this?” I ask him, stroking up and down his arm.
“Promise me we can make it work, after Colt and I come back here,” he pleads, blinking up at me. “I worry about how the separation, just until the kids graduate, will affect us after being together non-stop all this time.”
“Communication will be a must, Evan,” I tell him, finally able to put my foot down and set some ground rules. “I’m huge on that, you know this.”
He nods. “I know.”
“Grand gestures and planning thoughtful dates are all well and good, and I appreciate them very much, but they’re not what’s going to be able to get us through something long distance—especially if both of us get busy and can’t make it to one another on weekends and such. That will be the true test of our durability, being able to share things with each other virtually. Things that aren’t just surface level conversations with one another.”
“Like back when we were emailing back and forth about Colt back in May, and you couldn’t make heads or tails of the tone in my messages…”
I grin, knowing he’s gotten so much insight into his own self and how he comes off now. There’s so much depth to Evan, but he only knew the extent of it, because he kept it all bottled up. “Exactly like that, babe.”
He rises to his knees, pushing himself up to a stand. He extends his hand down to me, helping me up. When I get my footing, he doesn’t let me go. He tugs me over to the bike, and I lean back on it. He presses into me, his thigh slotting between my legs, his lips seeking mine. When they find each other, he gives me a passionate kiss, pouring all his worries—all his pent-up emotions—into it.
“Just for the record, I hate the thought of leaving more than anything, but I can’t ask Colton to uproot everything for this—us—either. I want you to know that,” he explains. “And I know I’m not techy or anything, but I’ll have him teach me how to video chat or whatever.” He caresses my cheek. “I can’t imagine not seeing this gorgeous face every day.”
I feel my face flame under his palm. “You know, yours looks much better without that perma-scowl you wore for the first few days at camp,” I tease, grinning and raking my fingers through his coarse facial hair. “But maybe we shouldn’t video chat. It’s going to besooo dang uncomfortable seeing this beard, knowing what it feels like between my cheeks, when you eat outmy pussy.”
I feel a rumbling groan rattle from his chest. “You and that dirty fuckin’ mouth of yours, Brooks. The only thing I love more than hearing the filthy shit that comes out of it, is the way my dick looks in it.” He swipes his thumb along my bottom lip. “These pretty lips.” Kiss. “That hot fuckin’ tongue.” Kiss. “You peeking up at me with that sultry look in these green eyes.”
“Evan,” I whimper, “it feels wrong doing this in a cemetery.”
He grins, chuckling. “Yeah, it is kind-of morbid, isn’t it? Let’s get out of here.”
Who knows where this upcoming year will take us—but I’m certain that together we’ll be able to navigate it. I know that I will need to carve out time to allow us to grow, because I need it for my own happiness—and craving my own happiness isn’t selfish, it’s necessary. Being with Evan has been such a fulfilling experience these past few weeks—so much more than I even bargained for—so I can’t fall into old habits of letting my day-to-day duties get in the way of this.
“I can’t pick,” he murmurs, pulling away from me and dutifully passing me the helmet.
“Can’t pick what?”
“Whether or not to finish giving you the tour and taking you out to dinner, or if I want to drag you back to my place and let you sit on my face,” he replies, a smirk gracing his face. I situate myself on the bike, and then he slips his smokes out and pulls one out of the pack between his lips. “I mean, I guess I should have said I do know what I want to do, but I also want you to decide.”
I eye the action of him lighting up his cigarette dubiously. “I’d rather you quitthose, before I continue to sit on your face.”
He puffs out a thick cloud of smoke and holds it out. “I know. I need to. It’s just so fuckin’ hard to quit.”
“You’ve done harder things,” I remind him.
He nods, tossing it to the ground and stubbing the half-smoked butt out with his boot. “For you, I’ll try.”
I grin. “Don’t do it for me; do it for yourself. Do it to live a longer life, to enjoy the beauty of it all for longer. Do it so I get more time with you,” I suggest, winking at him.
He chuckles. “Do they make sexy Depends? Because, if so, I’ll never pick up another pack of smokes. I’ll want to see you in our bed in the nursing home, rocking the fuck out of an adult diaper.”
“Pfft,” I scoff, “you’d hardly find me attractive when I’m all old and wrinkly.”
“The fuck I won’t!” He snickers. “We’ll play strip bingo together, and I’ll still be drooling all over you.”
“Jeesh, our geriatric years sound like so much fun,” I drawl sarcastically.
His expression morphs from playful to something more serious. “Grow old with me, Brooks. I’ve made it thirty-four years without knowing what true love could be. I want to spend at least that many more knowing what it is. No expiration dates.”
