When I reached the house, I saw Ian’s pickup truck sitting in the driveway, and I rushed inside the house.
He was home! Ian was back, and I had so much to tell him, so much to share. So many kisses to make up due to lost time. I searched the whole house and didn’t find Ian anywhere.
I headed up to my room to change, and as I opened my bedroom door, a smile fell against my lips as I saw Ian sitting there on my bed, waiting for me.
“Hi,” he said, getting to his feet.
“Hi,” I replied.
“Again?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. I knew exactly what he was referring to too.
I walked over to him, wrapped my arms around his body, and stood on my tiptoes to reach his lips, and I kissed him.
Again.
I wished I had a remote control that was able to freeze time. To pause on beautiful moments, to rewind those same seconds to replay the best parts. The next two weeks of my time with Ian and the rest of the band flew by too fast. I tried my best to be present in every situation, but the weight of it all changing in a few days was more than I could handle.
I wished things were different. I wished I had more time to hold philological conversations with James. I wished I had more time to talk to Eric about his passion for social media. I wished I could’ve listened to more of Marcus’s bad jokes.
I wished I had more kisses with Ian. More everything with him, really.
If there was a world where the both of us stayed in place, I’d be completely his by tomorrow. Yet the sad truth of it all was we didn’t have a tomorrow. We only had that day.
Big Paw and Holly were throwing the guys a going-away party in the barn house, and everyone in town came to it. They were known for hosting big events, and since it came with free food and drinks, everyone always showed up.
Their parties were a breath of fresh air in a very toxic town.
I’d been wandering around the party, looking for Ian, for the past twenty or so minutes.
“You’re not going to find him in here,” a voice said, making me turn around.
I smiled to James, who was holding a soda can in his hand. “Where is he?” I asked.
“Waiting for you.”
“But where?”
He smiled. “The same place we scared you out of all those weeks ago. Sorry about that, by the way.”
I laughed.
The shed.
James placed a hand on my arm and gave me another grin. “Hazel, thank you for everything you’ve done for this band, for Ian. I don’t even know if we would’ve had this opportunity if it wasn’t for you.”
“You guys were good enough without me.”
“Yeah, but you made us better. You made him better. So thank you for that. I’d never seen him really love a girl before. It looks good on him.”
My heart skipped a million beats.
Love?
Ian loved me?
James must’ve seen the panic in my eyes, because he shifted his stare away from mine and tried to backpedal. “I mean, er, like, he has love for you. I mean, what I meant to say . . . ah, shit. Foot in mouth. Anyway, Ian’s at the shed.”
“Thanks, James.”
“No problem. And Haze?”
“Yes?”
“Can you keep it on the down low about the fact that Ian loves you? I didn’t mean to spoil it before he said it to you. Shit. I don’t want to ruin that moment for him telling you whenever it happens.”
“Maybe it won’t happen,” I argued.
“Trust me”—he shook his head—“it will. Just wait and see. And hell, act surprised, will you? But not too surprised. The normal amount of surprised. Not too much and not too little.”
I chuckled and nodded. “Will do. Did he tell you that he loved me during your confession-time game?”
James lowered his eyebrows, perplexed. “Confession-time game?”
“You know, the game you two play in the pens when cleaning them. To make time go faster.”
“Uh, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
He seemed completely thrown off by my comment, and those butterflies came flying back to me in an instant.
Oh, Ian. You and your lies to get to know me.
21
IAN
People always said you’d miss home the minute you left it, but I didn’t believe that. I wasn’t going to miss that place—not for a minute. I wouldn’t miss working in the pigpens or going around town with small-minded people. I wouldn’t miss manure or moving hay. I wouldn’t miss the mosquitoes that were out for murder. I wouldn’t miss the things that made up Eres, but there were people I’d miss.
Three, to be exact.
I’d miss Grams and her homecooked meals. I’d miss how she’d still come over to my place and fold my laundry, even though I’d tell her I could do it on my own. I’d miss her hugs and comfort. Her wise words. Her positive persona. Her daily doses of love.
I’d miss Big Paw too. I’d probably even miss him chewing out my ass over stupid things. I’d miss his hard-knock style of parenting. I’d miss his almost smirks, when you did something to make him proud. I’d miss his attitude and tough love.
Then there was Hazel. I’d miss every single thing about her. Even the things I had yet to discover.
I sat inside the shed as I stared at the stars in the sky. A few hundred feet away was the barn house, where an energetic party was taking place. I’d told my grandmother that the boys and I hadn’t wanted a going-away party, so of course she and Big Paw had thrown us a going-away party.
“Are you going to sit in here all night reflecting, or are you going to come down to this party of yours and celebrate breaking free?” a voice asked.
I glanced up to see Hazel wearing one of my hoodies and black shorts. Her thighs looked smooth and thick, and fuck, I wanted to bury myself between them and stay for a while. She was wearing her favorite pair of lucky black shoes. My shoes. There was no denying that they looked better on her than they’d ever looked on me.
“You know I don’t give a damn about that party,” I answered. “I’d rather have my last night hanging out with the people I care about the most.”
“Like who?”
I gave her a knowing grin. The color on her cheeks heightened as she returned the smile.
Those fucking kissable cheeks.
“How about you come outside and hang out with me. I feel like swinging on the tires.”
I did as she said and met her outside of the shed.
She started wandering off in the direction of the old tire swings set up against the two big oak trees on the ranch. Right behind the tire swings was a wishing well that had been out of commission since before I was born, but still people would come around and toss their coins into the well in hopes that their dreams would come true.
Hazel reached into her back pocket and pulled out two coins. “Do you believe in magic?” she asked.
“Ever since you, I’m starting to a little more each day.”
She handed me a coin. “Then make a wish. Make it a good one. I’ve heard about this wishing well. How people have wished for money and babies and marriage. Then all of their wishes come true.”
I went to toss the coin into the well, and Hazel leaped in front of me. “Wait, Ian! You can’t just toss it in. You have to take your time and make sure your wish is clear as day. You only get one shot at getting the wording right. Make your wish count.”
I gave her a sloppy smirk and flung my coin into the well.
She frowned and held her coin close to her heart, closed her eyes, and tilted her head up to the moon. It was a crescent moon. If you had asked me months ago if I knew the difference between a full moon, new moon, and crescent moon—both waxing and waning—I would’ve called you crazy.
But that was the type of crap I knew now, all because of Hazel and her intriguing mind.
She brought the coin to her lips before opening her eyes and tossing the coin into the well and then swung around on her heels
to face me. “I bet my wish comes true before yours, since I took my time with it.”
“What did you wish for?”
“You can’t tell people your wish, otherwise it voids it out.” She narrowed her eyes. “What did you wish for?”
“Oh no. You’re not screwing up my wish.”
Once we reached the swings, we didn’t talk much. Hazel would look up to the stars with such wonderment in her stare. Sometimes she’d close her eyes, and I swore she was making more wishes.
“You hear that song, Ian?” she asked, swaying back and forth on her tire.
“Yeah, I hear it.”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
“Oh? What is it?”
She shrugged. “Don’t know, but I can tell it’s going to be a favorite from the beat.”
I laughed. “You’re weird sometimes.”
“I’m always weird.” All of a sudden Hazel leaped up from her seat and held her hand out toward me. “Come dance with me.”
“What? No. It’s a slow song. I don’t dance to slow songs.”
“Do you dance to fast songs?”
I paused. “Well, no.”
“Ian Parker, if you don’t get off your tailbone and dance with me, then I swear I’ll tell everyone you were the one who set Big Paw’s mailbox on fire.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
She pushed her tongue in her cheek and placed her hands on her hips. “Try me.”
“That goes against the wolf pack rules.”
“Luckily I’m not a part of the wolf pack.”
I laughed. “After these past few months, I think you’re more a part of the wolf pack than I am. You wouldn’t really tell Big Paw.”
“You want to bet on it?”
I narrowed my eyes at her, and she narrowed hers right back.
She’s bluffing.
She has to be.
I shook my head. “What does it matter? I’m leaving this town come morning, anyway.”
“You think Big Paw won’t track you down to kick your ass for ruining his mailbox?” she asked.
Well, yeah.
I knew he would. He’d carved that mailbox by hand over twenty-five years ago. That mailbox was older than me, and it had probably pissed Big Paw off a lot less than I did.
I stood up from my tire and pointed a finger her way. “If I dance with you, you can’t hold the mailbox thing over my head again.”
“I won’t.”
“Promise?”
She took her fingers and made a cross over her chest. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”
If she weren’t so annoying right then, I would’ve thought she was cute.
Who was I kidding? She was beautiful.
“I get to lead,” I told her.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she replied, holding her hand out.
I reluctantly took her hand into mine, and we began to dance to the slow song that she hadn’t known but was certain was her new favorite.
“Ouch!” She jumped back seconds after I stepped on her foot.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I told you I don’t slow dance.”
She regrouped and moved in close again. “It’s fine. You can only get better with practice.”
We danced back and forth, and Hazel laid her head against my shoulder. As we swayed, she hummed the song as if she knew every word.
“See?” she whispered. “Isn’t this nice?”
I didn’t reply, but truth was I didn’t hate it. I hated a lot of things about small-town Eres, but slow dancing with Hazel wasn’t one of them.
“Are you scared, Ian? About leaving home?”
“Not at all,” I quickly replied. There was nothing scary about leaving town and going off to Los Angeles to chase my music career. The only scary thing to me was staying in a small town and never reaching my dreams.
If I didn’t leave Eres tomorrow, I was almost certain I’d never get away.
“Then I’ll be scared for you,” she commented, holding me tighter, and I allowed it, because all I wanted to do for the next fifteen hours was hold her close to me. “I just don’t want you to lose yourself, you know. People often go chasing after this big Hollywood dream, and they lose themselves.”
“What do you know about people chasing their Hollywood dreams? Nobody we know has ever done what my band and I are doing.”
“I know, but I’ve seen enough movies to know that Hollywood changes people.”
Maybe.
Not me, though.
I just wanted to play my music for a bigger crowd than the old folks down at the barn house.
“I’ll be fine,” I told her.
“Good, because I like you the way you are. You know what, Ian?”
“What’s up?”
Hazel looked up at me with teary eyes and shook her head a little. “Sometimes I think about you not being around anymore, and my heart hurts a lot.”
“Come on, Hazel. Don’t get too emotional. I’ll be back.”
“No, you won’t,” she whispered, laying her head back against my shoulder.
I didn’t reply, because I knew she was pretty much right, and by the time I came back, she’d probably be gone chasing her own dreams.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Ian,” she confessed.
We kept dancing between the tire swings, Hazel kept smiling my way, and jeez, I’m going to miss that smile.
The song shifted to a faster one, but we kept our slow speed going.
She looked up at me and gave me another smile. This time it was sadder. “Again?”
I kissed her.
I kissed her slowly and gently and let my lips linger, because I was too afraid to pull away from her.
“Haze . . . ,” I whispered, looking into her eyes. I felt everything for that girl. I wanted to tell her about the words flying through my head. I wanted her to know how love was racing through every fiber of my existence and that love belonged to her. But I was scared, because come morning, I’d be gone. Come morning, I couldn’t do anything about said love.
She looked at me and nodded. “I know, Ian,” she softly said, as if she could read my thoughts and my messy mind. “Me too.”
Her head fell back to my shoulder, and we swayed for the remainder of the evening. Then I took her to her bedroom and held her one last time.
As we lay in bed, I began to close my eyes but stopped once I felt a hand slightly stroking against my boxers. If there was anything that would wake a tired man up, it was a hand moving against his cock.
I tilted my head to look her way, wondering if the slight touch was a sleepy mistake, but her stare was fully focused on me as she did the act. She fingered the band of my boxers before pulling it away from my skin, making enough room for her to slide her hand inside. As she gripped my cock, she began stroking it up and down slowly, keeping full eye contact with me as she did so. Then she added a small bit of pressure to her strokes, making me moan in pleasure from the slight sensation she delivered me.
She pulled her hand out of the boxers for a second and licked the palm, then sucked on each of her fingers, getting her hand completely lubricated, before sliding it back in and making her strokes a tad bit faster. My cock grew in her hand as she turned me on, gliding her hand over my head and moving it down to the shaft. Every time she stroked it, my mind wanted to explode.
“Haze . . . just like . . . that,” I sighed, unable to keep my eyes open as the sensation of desire overtook me.
She sat up in the bed and began pulling my boxers down my legs. She tossed them to the side of the room and lowered herself so she was kneeling on the floor, right in front of the bed.
“Rotate your body,” she ordered. “Come closer to me.”
I did as she said, my heart pattering like I was a fucking child on Christmas morning as she kept her strokes going strong. She moved her mouth closer to my dick, and her hot breaths brushed against my inner thighs as she kissed my skin lightly. Her tongue slid out of he
r mouth, and she circled the tip, making chills race down my spine.
Fuuuuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Then she took me all into her mouth, sucking my cock long and hard, allowing her hand to glide up and down along with her mouth. Her tongue made fucking figure eights against the base, and fuck me sideways, I had to cover my face with my hands to keep from shouting out in pleasure. She kept up the pace and swallowed me whole, allowing the intensity of the blow job to overtake me. She placed her free hand right below my stomach and lightly pushed down against me, and fuck, I was going to come in Hazel Stone’s mouth if she didn’t stop any second. My feet started tapping against the floor as my body began to lift off the mattress from being so close to getting off.
“Stop, stop, stop,” I ordered, pulling her away.
She looked up at me with confusion in her stare. “I’m sorry. Did you not like . . .”
“Shit, Haze,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I fucking loved it. But I want to taste you first.” I pulled her up from the ground and laid her down against the bed. “I want to taste every single piece of you.”
“Oh . . . ?” she asked as her cheeks reddened in an instant. “So what do you need me to do?”
“That’s easy. I need you to take off your pants.”
22
HAZEL
I’d never had a guy go down on me. All Garrett and I had ever done was make out, and I’d give him hand jobs and blow jobs every now and again, but he’d never do anything to me. He said it grossed him out a lot, and he didn’t like being down there.
I never thought about it too much, because I didn’t care. If I wanted to get myself off, there were plenty of ways to do it without a stupid boy who was too much of a child to please a woman.
But with Ian that night? There was no problem in the world. Ian pulled off my pajama pants and panties with such calmness. He stared at my body in a way that Garrett never had—as if he worshipped every crease and every curve.
He pulled my shirt over my head, and I sat there in my bra, almost completely naked in front of the first ever man to have full control over my heartbeats. Then he proceeded to run his lips across every single piece of me. All the parts I loved and the ones that brought about jaded insecurities. His tongue danced down my neck, across the curves of my chest, against the folds of my stomach, across my hip bones, against my inner thighs.
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