One, aching moment, his touch isn’t just a memory.
Bowen’s fingers flex like they remember, too.
I’m the first one to look away.
The calm lake is a mirror for the darkening sky in the distance. I can hear the crickets waking and leaves rustling in the soft breeze.
My fingers grip onto the warm skin under my hands as the arms go to pull away.
“Please…just, give me a second.” I hate how small and raw my voice is. How telling. My heartbreak is a real, throbbing presence. It always has been, hasn’t it? That was part of the problem.
Remember we’re not being selfish anymore, dickhead?
But fuck. I’m not ready for the touch to break. For Bowen to stab me with another barbed remark, anotherMeyer.I’m not ready to look up at hard, guarded eyes instead of the endless sea I used to know and love.
If I wasn’t so aware of the burn of his hands through my shirt, I may have missed the slow back and forth movement of his thumbs. Three trails, back and forth. My breath hitches, and I swear the lake hears it. The ripples break the sleek reflection of a moment ago, dusk fragmented in each tiny crest.
My eyes burn from holding them open for so long.
“Kit.”
It takes effort, but I drag my eyes back up to him. Body tense and ready for the next hit.
He takes in every inch of my face, looks back and forth between my eyes. It’s almost like he’s looking for something, and when he finds it—or doesn’t—he nods. It’s a smooth and soft movement.
Bowen drops his hands slowly but gives me a small smirk when he does. “You were right.”
“Right?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
Bowen nods over at the van, and I glance in the direction he’s looking to see the raccoon watching us from the driver's seat of Fiona.
“Definitely found your blueberry stash.” I bark a laugh, and he continues, “At least he’s sensible and doesn’t smear it with half a jar of peanut butter.”
All the tiny shards of my heart try valiantly to pull together. “It’s the only way.”
Bowen shakes his head. “Is now a good time to tell you there is a very pissed off looking momma raccoon by the back wheel?”
I whip around so fast that something pops. “Bowen!”
He slides the door of the van open so the little shit can escape or call the rest of his family to take over residence. I don’t stick around to find out. I’m already running back to the cabin.
Bowen’s low laugh follows after me.
I’m almost sleeping when I remember that my phone vibrated earlier before I texted Bowen to help. I pick it up, squinting at the bright screen when I pull up my messages.
There is a message from before my emergency text.
Boe<3: I remember everything.
Bowen
Kit jumps half a foot in the air when I finally clear my throat, alerting him to my presence, leaning against the wall just inside the hallway. I’ve been watching him for the last minute, contemplating the Coffee Mate Original in his hand.
I saw the bowl on the counter and the carton of eggs. I used the rest of the milk yesterday.
I didn’t think he was actually going to do it. He hesitated, sure, but then he was going in with the fucking jug anyway.
His hazel eyes swing my way, and I raise a brow, staying where I am and crossing my arms. I don’t miss the way he looks down my torso.
