eyond Desire Collection

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al

  “She was having some kind of hallucinations. They found her on the highway.” I leave out the rest. “Jerry left. I don’t know if it was in response to her episode, or if her episode was in response to his going. Regardless, she’s here.”

  “We’ll figure this out, Zoe,” he says. “My dad knows a lot of people, he’ll help us find out what she needs. I promise, we’ll figure this out.”

  Something seems to break apart in me—maybe it’s that last bit of guilt, or the weight of thinking I’m alone. Whatever it is, its absence allows me to look up at Taylor and say the thing I should have said from the very beginning.

  “I love you, Taylor.”

  He stares down at me, his eyes wide, and I’m scared for a minute that he doesn’t feel the same way. But then he’s kissing me, my lips and cheeks and eyelids, every inch of my face he can reach. And with each kiss he whispers it back. I love you, I love you, I love you.

  We have a long way to go—that much is obvious. We’re both screwed up, maybe irreparably so. But it doesn’t matter, not anymore. We’ve come so far already, both of us, and that was on our own. Now that we’re together, we’ll get the rest of the way there, I know it.

  He told me once that I was his escape, and I agreed. In a world that was cold and dark and scary, Taylor was my safe place. When I felt trapped in that house, trapped in my guilt and my fear, he was my escape, my way out.

  But I want more than that now, more than a mere escape. Grace and Peter have both assured me that this is okay. That my mom would want it for me too. That it’s right and normal for me to want more than just a safe haven, more than just a small pocket of temporary happiness. And I do want more now. I want the whole world. And I want Taylor there with me when I find it.

  Epilogue

  Zoe

  “So what is the point of this, exactly?” Ellie asks me for at least the tenth time.

  “The point is to be awesome,” I say as I take the coffee from her. “Thanks.”

  She yawns dramatically. “Coffee is essential, seeing as how you dragged me out of bed at this inhumane hour.”

  “You’re such a drama queen, Ells,” Fred says, joining us on the sidewalk. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

  She sticks out her tongue at him, and I wonder when the two of them will finally get together. They’re running out of time—Fred will be going back to school in a week.

  The summer is winding down. In a matter of days Grace will be back at school as well, along with most of the kids who return to town for these few months. It’s strange to imagine fall semester starting. My life is so different than it was at this time last year.

  “Should we go check it out?” Fred asks, looking down the street to where the art festival is taking shape.

  “I thought it wouldn’t be ready yet?” I look down at my phone. Though the artists have been working for hours already, it’s still only nine a.m.

  “It won’t. But you don’t want to miss the process. Believe me.”

  I’m so glad we listen to him. When we get over to Taylor’s sidewalk plot it doesn’t look like much—just vast stretches of blue and green with outlines and grids sketched in white taking shape. He’s much more interesting than his art at the moment—dressed in paint-splattered jeans and a tight tank top with his hair pulled back, he’s looking about as good as I’ve ever seen him. At least, as good as I’ve ever seen him fully clothed. The really sexy thing is his look of utter concentration as he works, slowly creating a magical world right there on the sidewalk in front of us. Even Ellie can’t find anything to complain about.

  He takes a break after an hour or so, approaching us with a huge grin on his face. “What do you think?” he asks. He grabs me around the waist and pulls me in close for a kiss. “You impressed?”

  I lean into him so I can whisper in his ear. “I really want to do you right now. Right here.”

  He laughs. “Nice.”

  I wink. “Seriously, this is awesome. And you’re sexy as hell making it.”

  “It should be done in a few hours,” he says, then looks at his watch. “Now would be a good time to go walk around if you want to see the booths and stuff.”

  I kiss him again before heading off with Fred and Ellie. The Clarksville Street Art Fair also includes traditional artists selling their wares in booths up and down Main Street. We go in that direction, checking out a myriad of artwork. From glass beads, to wirework, to embossed prints, to oil paintings, there’s a little bit of everything. It’s fascinating.

  After we’ve seen just about everything there is to see on Main Street, we head back toward the sidewalk pieces. Many of the artists are working on 3-D pieces, like Taylor, while others have used chalk to recreate famous works of art or original two-dimensional drawings. A few of the smaller ones are completed already, and we stop to gawk at depictions of fiery caverns, cliff tops, and a series of rolling hills.

  “That’s fucking freaky,” Ellie mutters, looking down at the cliff edge. “I seriously feel like I’m going to fall. How do they do that?”

  “Wait till you see our boy,” Fred says, pride in his voice. I feel a rush of affection for Fred. I’m going to miss him this fall.

  We find a crowd gathered at Taylor’s plot. There’s a reason he’s attracting so much attention. In the time we were browsing, he’s just about finished up. The result is breathtaking. He’s created a full-scale landscape of various scenes. A rolling field of flowers fades into a forest which gently opens up to a stretch of water, behind which a city gleams. In the center of the field, heading out to explore, is a couple, holding hands.

  “You like it?”

  I turn to face him, a lump in my throat. “It’s us.”

  He smiles at me. “Yeah. Is that cheesy?”

  I don’t speak, sure I’m going to cry. He smiles and takes my hand. “I wanted to paint us exploring the world. The whole wide world, out there for us to experience together.” He winks. “Cheesy enough for you now?”

  I smile. “A little cheesy. But very nice.”

  It’s a wonderful day. I’m so proud of Taylor, so damn happy that he’s here at all, happy that I’m with him. We’ve come a long way since that day in the hospital two weeks ago. I know we have far to go, that we’re nowhere near being whole yet, but we’re certainly on our way.

  “So are you ladies all moved in?” Fred asks as the four of us sit in the grass next to Taylor’s piece, enjoying the lunch we packed that morning.

  “Just about,” Ellie says. “I ever so kindly gave Zoe the bigger bedroom.” The two of us are sharing an apartment now.

  I make a disbelieving sound. “Yeah, right. Your room has a walk in closet, I barely have a cupboard.”

  She smiles. “That may have been part of my decision process.”

  Fred shakes his head. “That apartment is going to see some epic parties. I’m kind of sad I’ll be missing it.”

  “You’ll be back soon, won’t you?” Ellie asks, a hopeful note in her voice.

  “Sure,” he says, and smiles at her.

  I catch Taylor’s gaze, and he gives me a pointed look.

  “What about you?” Ellie asks Taylor. “Are you settled in yet?”

  Taylor nods, still looking at me. “Yup, Zoe helped me pick out new sheets and everything.”

  Taylor had asked me to come and stay with him in his new apartment once everything was finally settled with my mom. I was tempted, for sure, but I was also scared we weren’t ready yet. I didn’t want to do anything to disturb the fragile happiness we were rebuilding. Besides, living with my best friend was exactly the kind of “normal shit” experience everyone kept telling me I should be having.

  I feel a familiar pain when I think about moving out of the house. It was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I don’t know that I’d ever been more excited about anything, to be honest. At the same time, my leaving the house also meant that my mom was leaving the local hospital and going to the residential place by Uncle Peter. She wou
ld be there for the foreseeable future. I was glad it was close, not that she would let me come visit her. She hadn’t exactly forgiven me yet.

  “You okay?” Taylor asks quietly.

  I look up at him and tamp down the instinct to say yes. “I’m getting there,” I say instead. We’re both working on telling the truth, even when it sucks.

  He smiles at me, and reaches over to rub my palm with his thumb.

  The artists start packing up in the late afternoon. Taylor is dead on his feet, having gotten up before sunrise to get started. He actually lets me drive his car home, which is unheard of. We say goodbye to Fred and Ellie, who will be making the hour-long trek in the Honda.

  “Will I see you at home?” Ellie asks me before she climbs into the driver’s seat.

  I look over at Taylor, who shakes his head in an emphatic “no.”

  Ellie sighs dramatically. “Fine, go get some, you skank. I’ll be fine all on my own with no man in my bed.”

  “I could help you out with that, Ells,” Fred says cheerfully as he climbs into the car. He closes the door before I can hear her response, but from the look on her face I’m pretty sure it involves some kind of threat to his balls.

  Taylor sleeps most of the way home, and I take great pleasure in playing whatever I want on his iPod. He wakes up as I pull into the parking lot of his new place.

  His dad picked it out while Taylor was still in the hospital and arranged to have all his stuff moved over. I was impressed; I didn’t want Taylor going back to that house if at all possible, and I was glad to see his dad thought so, too. Though Taylor tried to insist that he could afford rent with his job at the shop and wouldn’t be taking help from his dad, his father convinced him that he should be focusing on school and not work.

  When fall semester starts in a week, Taylor will be taking classes. Not at RSDI—that decision has been tabled for the time being—but at an art program at the university downtown. He’ll have a familiar classmate—Peter has helped me enroll as well.

  “Whatcha thinking about?” Taylor asks sleepily as I park the car.

  “Just about how much everything is changing.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “You scared?”

  “A little. It’s big, you know?”

  He reaches over to take my hand. “One day at a time, babe. That’s how normal people do it, you know.”

  I correct him. “Boring-ass normal people.”

  He smiles and we climb out of the car to head into his new home.

  Taylor

  If I had thought I liked the way Zoe looked in my old place, it is nothing like the feeling I get when I see her here. The apartment above the garage had been so cold before I met her, a lonely place for a lonely person. Even after she burst into my life, warming everything she touched, the place held on to some of those old memories of cold and pain. But my new place—my home—has none of that. Her stamp is on every inch of it, from the sheets she helped me pick out to the living-room bookshelf half-filled with her books. She even put throw pillows on my couch, for God’s sake.

  I love my Zoe-approved throw pillows. Love the pictures she helped me hang on the walls. Love the way her scent lingers in the air long after she’s gone.

  But tonight, she’s not going anywhere. And I love that most of all.

  We’re both too tired to cook, so we make do with cold pizza from the fridge and curl up on the couch to watch a movie. Boring-ass normal shit indeed. But with Zoe, none of it feels ordinary. Every minute with her is something bigger, something special.

  “I’m really proud of you,” she says, her voice barely audible over the TV.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. That scene you drew was amazing. I’m so glad you did it.”

  “You’re amazing. Can I do you?”

  She hits me. “Okay, I’m declaring a moratorium on the phrase ‘doing it’.”

  “You started it!” I protest, but she silences me with a kiss.

  “And now I’m finishing it.”

  Her eyes gleam at me, and I decide it’s time we make good use of those new sheets. Without a word, I pick her up and carry her into my room.

  “Hey,” she cries, slapping my chest. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m finishing it,” I say, and plop her down on the mattress and stretch out next to her. She starts to say something, but I take her mouth with mine. Her breathing speeds up, and I groan a little. I roll on top of her, loving the feel of her arms around me. She’s so soft under me, her hands clutching my hair like she can’t bear to let me go.

  My earlier exhaustion forgotten, I make quick work of her t-shirt and jeans, swearing under my breath at the sight of her black bra and underwear. “You’re so gorgeous,” I say, pulling a strap down her shoulder so I can trail my tongue along her skin. “So gorgeous.”

  “I need you,” she says, no fear or hesitation in her voice. It’s the thing I love most about her. I used to tell her all the time that she was a badass, but that really doesn’t begin to cover it. I’ve never known someone so brave, so strong, so fucking amazing in every way.

  I tell her these things as I remove her bra, as I kiss my way down her chest to the swell of her breasts. I take a peak into my mouth, feeling like I might just die when I hear her moan. “So gorgeous,” I repeat, slipping my hand down to her heat. This time my mouth is on hers when she moans, swallowing the sound, taking it into me and making it my own. “I love you.”

  “Taylor,” she gasps. “You feel so good.”

  I raise my head enough to see her face as I slide into her. Her eyes are wide, her mouth parted open, and I can’t help the shudder that courses through me. “Good” doesn’t begin to cover this feeling.

  She takes my face between her hands, staring right into my eyes, into my heart. “I love you.”

  I hang on to her words as I start to move in her. Our lives are still pretty messed up. We have so far to go, so much to muddle our way through. Sometimes the pain of what we’ve lost almost feels like too much. The world isn’t always the way I drew it in my piece today. Sometimes it’s scary and sad and really fucked up.

  But none of that shit can touch us, not really, not when we’re together. This moment, this closeness with her—she’s my escape from the world. As she runs her fingers through my hair, gasping my name, I know she’s close, and I know she feels it too.

  I want to watch her fall over the edge, want to see her fall apart in my arms. But the edge is coming for me, too, and it’s so overwhelming I almost can’t take it. So I whisper her name, close my eyes, and, finally, find my escape in her.

  THE END

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  Love New Adult Contemporary Romance?

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  Escape With You

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rachel Schurig is the best-selling author of the Three Girls series, available now in paperback and ebook. Rachel lives in the metro Detroit area with her dog, Lucy. She loves to watch reality TV, and she reads as many books as she can get her hands on. In her spare time, Rachel decorates cakes.