“Yes,”she gasped, hips rolling into his like she could will him deeper just from the want alone. “Yes, Nate—fuck me.Please.”The word cracked on her tongue, shameless and sweet, and it shattered what was left of his control like sugar glass.
Nate couldn’t take it anymore. Any semblance of control he’d been clinging to left the chat. He yanked her shorts down justfar enough to bare her completely to the night air, fingers continuing with featherlight strokes against her slick core. His other hand was already working his jeans open and reefing a condom out from his pocket with desperate efficiency. She gasped as he crowded in behind her, hard and thick, lining himself up like he’d been dreaming of this exact angle for weeks.
He reached without looking, fingers sure, muscle memory kicking in as he tore the foil with his teeth and rolled the condom on in a rough, practiced stroke that made his vision blur. Then he let himself slide against her, his full length feeling exactly how wet she was for him. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he groaned roughly, like the act of not being inside her yet was the hardest thing he’d ever fucking done.
She was already soaked, already shaking, already his. Nate couldn’t stop, couldn’tgo slow.He buried himself inside her with one desperate thrust, the maddening slide of her body welcoming him like it had been waiting forever. He gave her two deep, perfect thrusts, hips snapping hard, barely holding on.
Her gasp hit his ears like a bomb detonating, and Nate’s grip on her hips turned bruising as he pressed his forehead to the back of her neck for just one moment, cursing low and reverent. Holly gasped, and then arched back into him like she was starving for this exact moment. He was already so fucking close it was ridiculous.
“Fuck,you feel?—”
A notification buzzed on her phone. Once. Then again. Then a third time, like it knew it didn’t belong in this moment but refused to be ignored.
Holy’s gaze fell to the screen lighting up beside them on the rooftop concrete next to them. And then she froze. The heat in her veins turned to ice, tension snapping through her body like a pulled wire. Nate stilled instantly, still balls deep inside her as though his life depended on how well he fucked her. His hands locked on her hips, leaning forward with concern as he felt the shift in her.
She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t.
“What?” he asked, blinking, voice hoarse and breathless. But she was already peeling away from him, tugging up her shorts as she bent to grab her phone. When she finally turned to him, her facecrumpled. Like someone had punched through her from the inside.
“It’s my mom,” she whispered, voice smaller than he’d ever heard it. And that was all it took. Nate was already tidying himself up. No hesitation. No questions.
“Let’s go,” he said, steady and low. Because if her world was falling apart? He wouldn’t let her face it alone.
31
VENDING MACHINE GRIEF
Holly
“I let go of control for five minutes. Just five. And he didn’t flinch. That scares the crap outta me.”
Holly sat in a molded plastic chair that might as well have been a punishment, knees drawn up, hands clenched around a cup of vending machine coffee Nate had bought her but she hadn’t touched. The fluorescent lights above flickered like they couldn’t make up their minds. Someone two bays over was coughing. Someone else was crying. But all she could feel washim.
Nate sat beside her. Close, but not crowding. Present in a way that had nothing to do with words. He hadn’t said a damn thing on the drive over, just grabbed his keys and got her to the damn hospital with a burning focus that made something in her chest ache. He’d driven one-handed, the other putting just enough pressure on her thigh to keep her from falling apart. Like it was instinct now. Like holding her down in the middle of a hurricane was just something hedid.
It scared her.
Because five minutes before that call he’d been fucking her against a glass balustrade over Burbank like he was trying to fuse their souls together.Fuck.The things he’dsaid. The way he’d touched her as though she was both sacred and ruinous. Made her feel as if she was allowed towant. Allowed to bewanted. Holly’d never felt like that. Not even close.
He made her feel like being difficult wasn’t a flaw. Like beingfiercewas the whole fucking point. And now here he was, still holding the line while everything inside her shook. The nurses had said someone would be out soon. That there were tests, complications, but no answers yet. She blinked. Realized her hands were trembling.
She didn’t want to cry, because crying made it all too real. Her traitorous throat tightened anyway, and when the first tear spilled she turned her face away from him. She tried to press her fingers to her eyes, to hold it in, to pull herself back together. But his stupid, big, warm, callused hand grabbed hers and squeezed. And Holly, who didn’t trust easily, who didn’t let go…
Fucking let go.
She’d trusted him with her body on that rooftop. Now, in this sterile, awful, in-between place where everything was out of her control, she trusted him with something far more dangerous. Her heart.
They waited in silence, her shoulder resting lightly against his. His hand still tangled with hers. They didn’t talk about the rooftop, or the almost-kiss. Not even about how they felt, or what any of it really meant. And when a nearby door creaked open, they straightened in unison.
A doctor approached. A confident-looking woman in her mid-thirties, tired eyes, kind voice. “Holly?”
She stood, clinging to his hand as she felt him stand beside her.
“Your mother’s stable,” the doctor said, offering a calm, practiced smile. “She had a minor complication with her breathing. The good news is we’ve got it under control. She’s resting comfortably.”
Holly let out a slow, shaking breath as Nate’s grip tightened on hers with relief.
“But…”
