I wanted to be his.Goddammit, I wanted to be his.
“Luke,” I pleaded through my teeth, fighting for my life in his arms just moments away from release.
“Hazel, you are—” He shook his head against my neck, then raised his eyes to mine, raw with something deeper, something I’d never seen on his face. “I think I—”
But Luke never finished. Not his thought, at least. I interrupted him impolitely, crying out his name and shattering in front of him. He thrust violently inside me one last time,spilling into me. We both went speechless, our bodies shaking, lost in the aftershocks.
His forehead dropped to my shoulder, arms wrapped tight around me. Like he was afraid to let go. Of this. Us. Of this moment.
We stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, I brushed my fingers through his damp hair, drops of sweat dripping on my heated skin. He hummed, pressing a slow, lazy kiss on my clavicle. While holding my lower back with one hand, he made slow movements with our bodies. The point of contact was slick and greasy.
He pulled me down with him onto the couch, and I curled onto my side, facing him. Our breathing hadn’t settled yet, the air still heavy with everything unsaid. Moonlight spilled across the room, soft and quiet, as if it didn’t want to interrupt.
“Not shy at all,” he murmured, giving me the most unguarded smile I’ve seen from him. His dimples were ripping my heart at the seams. I grinned back, pride swelling in my chest, wondering where I had ever felt so bold and fearless in my life.
33
Luke
The city buzzed with energy, even though the streets weren’t crowded. It was that strange in-between hour, late morning bleeding into noon. Music spilled from an open café door. Somewhere down the block, someone laughed too loudly. Life was happening all around us, casual and unbothered.
Ethan, Summer, Norah, and I were out for fresh produce. With Ava’s permission, of course. Under the condition, we all stick together, because apparently, as a group, we were less likely to make dumb choices, like picking Iceberg lettuce over Romaine, or impulse-buying something none of us would actually cook.
Hazel was sleeping in. After I returned the favor from last night, of course.
The memory hit me out of nowhere. One moment, I had nodded off on the couch, mind blank, body heavy. The next, she was burying her screams in the pillow, coming in my mouth as I licked her good and clean. She tasted so sweet that consequences felt theoretical at best.
Now that I thought about it, I might have deserved criminal charges for leaving her alone in bed. Slipping out like that felt wrong even though I’ve done it hundreds of times. If I were lucky, she’d still be there when I returned.
Unfortunately, Norah and Summer were taking their sweet time shopping, inspecting peaches and debating herbs, thus delaying my return to the warmest bed that had ever been waiting for me. Ethan and I loitered on the street, killing time.
“So,” he said, rocking back on his heels, “should we go over the strategy for tomorrow?”
“We can,” I replied, though my heart wasn’t in it. “But I think we’re already on the same page. We’ve been planning this since the project started. We got this. You got this.” I clapped a hand on his shoulder, solid, reassuring.
He exhaled a laugh. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” Then he shook his head, eyes distant. “Still, it’s wild. Two weeks ago we were completely stuck, and it turns out the solution was just... sitting in a coffee shop, making us espressos.” He laughed, snapping his fingers. “And she’s the best we’ve got.”
“Yeah, she really is,” I sighed, letting my eyes drop to the sand below the railing. His words lingered, turning over in my mind.She was.But somehow I’d always known it.
Ethan didn’t speak for a moment. Then he sighed, irritation edging into his voice.
“Alright, man. I wasn’t gonna say anything, but I know.”
I stiffened.
“I’ve seen the looks. The schoolgirl giggles,” he continued. “You’re not subtle.”
I turned to him, caught off guard. “Are you sleeping with Hazel?”
The question landed harder than it should have. He had no right to ask me that. Why did I think that, I didn’t know. It felt like a violation. We’d always talked about my sex life, joked about it, dissected it. But this was different. This wasn’t abstract.
I averted my gaze.
“That’s none of your business.”
It was the best I could come up with at the moment, and I regretted it as soon as I said it.
“Well, that’s a fucking obvious yes.” His voice rose, edged with judgment. “What are you doing, man?”
