I kiss the corner of her lips where she smirks when she thinks I’m funny and the spot above her nose where her browfurrows when she’s concentrating. I kiss the apples of her cheeks where, even now, she lets me see just how much I make her skin flush. I kiss her like it’s the last thing I’ll do on this Earth because kissing Hailey Hart is my favorite thing.
I’ve never asked her about her experience with other men. I don’t need to. The confused stare she gave me when she said she didn’t know what she liked was enough of an indication that no matter how many guys have had the privilege of being in her life like this, they took it for granted. They’ll never know the girl who melts at the brush of lips against her neck. And I’m glad they won’t. She saved that for me.
We take things slow, savoring the moment. The very definition of making love, and it terrifies me—the words hanging on the tip of my tongue. I don’t know how to keep looking in her eyes without them spilling out of me, so I flip her onto her hands and knees. She eases back against me, pressing her palms into the floor. I grip her hips and together we let the rush of tension take over. The spark between us urges our pace until we’re nothing but melting heat. A fire that burns brighter than all the rest. The only one I don’t ever want to put out.
When we collapse, spent on the blanket, I tuck her up against my chest so we’re spooning. We lie there for a long time, not saying anything at all. It’s not until she’s finally dreaming in my arms that I let go. I let her in. Nothing left to stop me.
“I’m in love with you, Red.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
REED
Sleep. That’s what I should be doing instead of barreling down Highway 95 at three in morning. But after I called Jack, I couldn’t stay.
Rhabdomyolysis, he called it: a form of kidney failure caused by the breakdown of muscle tissue.
I wanted it to be me. I wanted to give Hailey her best friend and Jack his squad leader back. Change every decision I made over the last twenty-four hours.
Instead, I did what I do best: put my phone on silent and left town.
I roll down the window and let the wind drive everything away. Well,almosteverything.
A heavy metal concert is ravaging my stomach, forcing me to pull off at a random diner to quiet it with a hamburger, fries, and a raspberry milkshake.
A waitress with a shock of red hair slides a glass across the gingham tablecloth. I take a long pull of the watered-down fruit through a plastic straw.
“How is it?” she asks with a southern drawl.
“It’s not LaBeau’s.”
It’s rude but honest, my answer. I hoped that it might taste like home. Give me some indication of where to go next.
“Do you think I could have a pickle to go with it?” I ask.
“Honey, if you think a pickle is gon’ save that sorry excuse for a drink, you’re sorely mistaken.” She chuckles.
“You could have warned me, ya know.” I dunk the straw a few more times before taking another sip.Nope. Still tastes like a diluted Crystal Light packet.
“Now why would I have done that when I needed somethin’ to keep this job interestin’.”
“What’s wrong with your job? It seems”—I scan all the empty chairs—“delightful.”
“I was gon’ be a sky divin’ instructor at your age. Biggest mistake I ever made was walkin’ away from that.”
Sounds like we have a lot in common.
“Why did you do it then?” I ask.
“The only reason you ever change your plans… For someone you love.”
Someone you love. The words are like pinpricks wrapped in guilt.
“It’s worth it though,” she adds. “Every bit of the stayin’.” Then she rests a picture next to my plate. She’s at a farmers’ market with a wicker basket full of fresh fruit and flowers, holding the hand of a small child.
“Lucy’s my reason for everythin’.”
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “She looks like you.”
