His face falls, the man surely remembering only yesterday when I lost the acorn he gifted me so many years ago. “I’ll give you another.”
I squeeze the back of his neck, not wanting him to worry about that right now. “Give me your lips, Oak. That’s what I want.”
Oakley’s hands come up slowly, shaking as they settle to either side of my face. His thumb ghosts over my jaw, strokinggently, much as I had done to him. His Adam’s apple bobs, eyes fixated on my mouth as the seconds stretch into many.
When Oakley leans in, it’s on a broken breath. I meet him in the middle, the first brush of his lips on mine so soft I’m not convinced I didn’t imagine it. But then he’s there again, cedarwood and warmth, smelling like my childhood and my now, feeling like all the things I’ve been searching for, not realizing they were right here all along.
I don’t let Oakley move away, not that he tries. He holds me tight, shaking still, his lips urging mine to open and fitting perfectly against me the moment they do. The snag of his lip on mine, the soft swipe of his tongue like an invitation and promise all its own, even the way his stubble stings like a vow I’ll feel him long after he’s gone…
It’s nothing I’ve felt before. But I know it, like a dream I’ve had many, many times.
One kiss becomes two. And then three. Oakley’s body presses to mine, not in suggestion but simply as if the man can’t hold himself away any longer. It doesn’t matter that we’re in his kitchen. It doesn’t matter that there’s stew spread across the floor. The only thing that exists is him and me in a moment we’re making our own.
I’m breathless by the time our mouths part. Oakley tugs me close, his head pressed against the side of my own, his chest rising and falling like a slowly ticking clock. I run my hands down his back, up again, my lips still tingling, my chest filled with sparks.
Oakley pulls in a breath, his voice soft as he whispers a single word into the air between us.
“Fireworks.”
Chapter 28
Oakley
Lawson sleeps in, not that I’m surprised. He’s already been excused from work for the week, the timing not ideal considering school starts up again in a matter of days. But there’s little Lawson can do about that, and the man needs the rest.
Jackson told me to take some time off, too, in order to look after his brother. I didn’t consider arguing.
Lawson’s mouth is soft in sleep, the lines of his face relaxed and one bandaged hand tucked under his pillow. The sight of it has my chest twisting, the memory of Lawson scrambling around on the ground through broken glass with his truck tipped on its top still fresh in my mind.
I have no doubt Lawson was running on a good bit of adrenaline after the crash, probably not even feeling the cuts he was collecting. Luckily, none of them were severe: shallow only, no stitches required. Even so, knowing he was so torn up over the lost acorn I had no clue he even still had…
Fuck.
I brush my fingers ever so lightly through Lawson’s hair, the strands somewhat coarse from the gentle curl they have. It’s difficult to force myself away, but I want breakfast to be ready when Lawson wakes so he can take his pain meds.
The house is quiet, Bell out back. I get the pills prepared first, laying them next to a glass of water. My mom calls as I’m pulling bacon from the fridge.
“Morning,” I say, setting my phone on speaker so I can keep cooking.
“How is he?”
“Good. Resting,” I answer, pulling a pan from the rack. “Thanks again for following me that night. And for keeping Lawson’s family fed at the hospital.”
My mom hums. “Of course. You want to talk about it?”
I start the stove heating, knowing exactly what my mom is asking. It still takes me a moment to speak.
“I was terrified. Because what…what if…”
“But he’s okay,” my mom cuts in gently. “He’s perfectly fine. You’ve seen it for yourself.”
“He flipped his damn truck.”
“He did,” she says, her voice calmer than my own. “And he walked away from it.”
“But what if he hadn’t? What if the last time I spoke to him, we were arguing? What if I’d gotten there and found him—”
I can’t say it. Can’t even think it.
