I want to stay right here, with Rook.
His fingers tangle in my hair and several pins come loose.
I’ll be a mess. I am a mess.
Fuck, let me be messy and hot and wet and—
Suddenly he’s gone.
Breathing heavily, I snap my eyes open, but it takes my vision several seconds to refocus.
Rook’s mouth is red and swollen and I swear there’s a new bulge between his legs.
He straightens his suit jacket, then runs his hand over his hair, smoothing it back.
“If you were mine, Kansas,” he says, “no one would stop me from claiming you.”
I sway on my feet.
He disappears for a second and returns with a chair.
“Sit down. I’ll get you a drink.”
I do as commanded.
Rook bends down and plants a kiss on my cheek. A tender kiss. A contrast from the heat and the frenzy of the kiss before it.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
And then he’s gone.
I sit, slouched in the chair, for two more songs.
A cool breeze steals in through the open balcony doors and helps tamp down the heat rushing through my body.
Rook kissed me.
He kissed me. After he knew about Edward.
Oh, Edward.
I sit forward and put my face in my hands.
As we grew older, Edward and I grew closer, but most of it was sex, none of it substantial, none of it deep. Edward knows I suffer from episodes of panic. He knows I love poppy fields and prefer pumpkin pie over apple. He knows I hate making bread but love eating it.
But he doesn’t know that sometimes I lie awake at night sobbing for what I’ve lost.
He doesn’t know that sometimes the black hole of my past threatens to swallow me up.
I know I am loved. I am lucky to have Em and Henry. But there is no good way to spin being an orphan. There is no amount of string lights that can drive away that darkness.
My eyes burn as I consider what I have to do when I return to Kansas.
I’m exhausted just thinking about it. I just want to go back to the inn, tear off this dress, and curl up with Toto.
I scan the crowd for Rook again but don’t find him anywhere.
