When her mouth found mine again, there was no slowing down. I sank into the kiss, claiming and giving all at once, losing myself in her until she broke against me with a soft sound.
Her heart pounded against mine, fast and certain, pulling me with it. We peeled our clothes off until nothing was between us.
She said my name again, barely more than breath. I answered against her skin, something low and rough that didn’t need words. I wanted to know every part of her—every shiver, every inhale, every way she responded to me.
The world narrowed until there was nothing beyond us—the heat of her under my hands, the faint rustle of the blanket, the cool air brushing over flushed skin. Every motion blurred into the next, drawing tighter until there was nowhere left to stop.
My hand slid along her, tracing slowly. She trembled beneath me, and I moved carefully, feeling her respond, her body opening to mine. When I deepened the motion, she gasped, her fingers clutching tighter.
“Luke.”
The way she breathed my name wrapped around me, pulling me under. I reached for my jeans, fingers clumsy as I dug into my pocket. I tore the foil packet open with my teeth and rolled it on quickly. Her lips curved, soft and knowing. I guided myself to her, pausing only a second before pressing forward.
Her nails pressed into my shoulders, urging me on. I eased inside her, inch by inch, until restraint broke, and I drove deeper. She held me tight, every movement drawing me further in.
As we moved together, I watched her—every flicker of feeling across her face, every breath she couldn’t quite catch. She was overwhelming in the best way.
She pulled me closer, her legs locking around me, her kisses matching mine. When her teeth caught my lip before soothing it away, control slipped through my fingers. My hand cradledthe back of her neck while the other held her firmly as I moved harder. She met me without hesitation.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this mattered more than anything.
I loved the way she answered me, the way she rose to meet every motion. The tension built until she broke apart beneath me, her voice carrying into the night.
A moment later, I followed her, the force of it stealing the air from my lungs. I lowered myself over her, breathing hard, before shifting enough to hold my weight. Cool air passed over my back, the distant sound of waves filling the quiet.
When I pulled away, I felt the loss of her immediately. I ran a hand through my hair, still caught in the hold she had over me. One touch from her could undo everything.
I rested my forehead against hers. When the intensity faded, all that remained was calm and quiet and the distant rhythm of the ocean.
Her heartbeat slowed beneath my palm, steady and real. She exhaled softly, and I caught it with a gentle kiss.
Afterward, we lay tangled together, my shirt twisted beneath her head, her body fitted to mine. The sky stretched endlessly above us. The roof beneath us was unforgiving, the air cool, but none of it mattered. She was here.
Her fingers drifted along my arm, slow and thoughtful, like she was committing me to memory.
I wanted to live inside that memory.
The faint glow from my phone pulled my attention. I didn’t move at first. I thought it would stop. It didn’t. The screen lit again against the concrete, casting a pale square of light across her arm. She didn’t notice.
I shifted carefully, reaching for it without disturbing her. The motion was slow, reluctant. My fingers curled around the phone, turning it just enough to read the display. Drew. Missed call.
The calm inside my chest faltered. He never called twice unless it mattered.
I stared at the screen for a second longer than I should have, the quiet of the rooftop suddenly fragile with whatever waited on the other end.
Mila stirred softly against me. I lowered the phone without answering. But I didn’t turn the screen off. Something told me the peace we’d found up here wasn’t going to last.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MILA
Monday mornings at Blackwood always carried the same lie—that everything was normal.
The campus looked pristine from the outside, every detail curated for appearance—the stone facade, severe and spotless, the hedges trimmed with obsessive precision, the iron gates gleaming as students drifted through them in clusters that made the place look harmless. I could almost believe it, standing at the edge of the courtyard with my bag heavy on my shoulder and the faint scent of the coast still woven into the morning air.
I could almost believe I was just another senior counting days until graduation. I didn’t believe it—not even a little.
The weekend had left a residue under my skin, something that wouldn’t wash off with sleep or coffee. Luke’s hand on my waist at the arena. The way he looked at me when he thought no one else was watching. The softness in his voice when he asked if I was okay and waited for a real answer, not the easy one.
