“But I get it,” he said finally. “Like it? Not a fucking chance. But it’s whatever. We do whatever it takes to survive, right?”
There was something in the way he said it that made me wonder what he’d done to survive over the years. Made me wonder what skeletons were hiding in his closet. What things kept him up at night and made him drink so much.
And did he hate it as much as I did?Surviving, I meant. I hated surviving. I hated what it made me. Hated how I felt.
I just didn’t know how to stop… all of it. Not without upsetting well… pretty much everyone.
“Yeah,” I murmured and left it at that.
Keeping the marshmallow in the fire, I stared at it as it continued to burn. It charred around the edges and turned black. I watched how it slowly melted into a gooey, disgusting mess. The process was morbidly mesmerizing, a weird parallel to how my life felt as if it was falling apart while I just let it burn.
Maverick said nothing as he sat with his knee pressed up against mine. Maybe he knew I was lost in my own thoughts, or maybe he was lost in his. Who knew? Either way, we remained utterly silent while the little campfire dwindled.
“I should go home,” I whispered when the last embers burned low.
“Probably,” Maverick replied.
The problem was: I didn’t want to.
Still, I got up, and Maverick was slow to follow. He dropped his cigarette to the ground, and I made a point to stare at him as he did it. I was wasting time. We all knew it.
He stepped closer, and my heart lodged in my throat, my pulse skyrocketing. My skin buzzed with a kind of energy that only he could create in me—the kind that settled in my core.And inspired inappropriate thoughts that had my gaze falling to his lips.
Nope.
This was wrong.
We’d gone down this path once before, and it didn’t end well for either of us.
“I….um…” I cleared my throat as I tried to come up with something smart to say—something that wasn’tthanks for the s’mores.
“Yeah,” he said, relieving me of my struggle.
“Okay,” I whispered, “then I’ll… see you later, I guess.”
Before I could move, his hand shot out to grab the hem of my shirt, giving it a firm tug that pulled me off balance. I stumbled forward, and my body bumped into his. His mouth crashed into mine, urgent and stealing the breath from my lungs.
Those first few seconds felt raw and clumsy—hard and almost unpracticed. The coarse hair of his beard scraped against my chin, and the quick rhythm of his breath mingled unevenly withmine. Our messy collision only lasted a heartbeat, but it left me desperate for more.
When he drew back, I chased him without thinking, and my lips brushed against his more softly this time. We eased into a slower rhythm, his mouth warm and tasting like marshmallows and alcohol. His arms slid around my back, drawing me closer against him. I let myself explore him in return, my fingers tracing the taper of his waist and the firm planes of his chest. My hands drifted higher, skimming the line of his neck, before I tangled my fingers in his soft hair.
My body hummed with it all—the warmth of his body, the quiet rustle of fabric as we shifted, the way his breath hitched softly against my lips. He was everything all at once, and my nerves were on fire.
What started slow, deepened into something hungrier. His tongue nudged gently at the seam of my lips until I parted for him. I welcomed the sweep of his tongue over mine, the warmth and sweet flavor making me moan. My fingers tightened instinctively in his hair as I kissed him back harder.
We devoured one another, an old spark flaming back to life with every kiss and every touch. Our need and desire collided in a catastrophic way that knocked my world back on its axis. Five years adrift had brought me right back to this.Right back to him.
His forehead pressed against mine as he broke the kiss first. I breathed him in deep, letting everything about him consume me from the inside out. I craved every little sense of right that he brought me.
“Stay,” Maverick murmured. “Stay with me tonight. I know it’s nothing fancy like you’re used to, and I don’t have much—”
“I just want you,” I cut him off. The words settled heavy between us—an admission that gave life to a slew of complicated feelings and notions. They were things we should’ve cared aboutand should’ve dealt with, but I didn’t want to. I just wanted this moment with him. Whatever this thing was… I needed it.
I needed him.
“Oh, I’ve missed you, Harley,” he said, his voice cracking, and he kissed me again.
CHAPTER 23
