by Beth Michele
Troy winks, pinching my arm as I squeeze by him. “You do that, Ems.” Vance’s eyes follow me while I try to keep my expression neutral.
The chill on the deck brings a wake-up call for my skin. My gaze travels upward to tiny stars filling the night sky. The patio doors open then and automatically my lips twitch. Strong hands come from behind, rubbing up and down my arms.
“You’re kind of cold there, Mickey.”
“A bit,” I reply, Vance’s touch adding a second layer of goose bumps along my skin.
“Be right back.” The patter of his Converse slapping against the wooden planks breaks the silence. He returns with a soft flannel blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders.
“Thank you.”
Vance gestures toward a lounger on the opposite side of the deck. “Let’s sit.” With a gentle hand supporting my arm, he leads me over to the chair. He positions himself first then tugs me down between his outstretched legs.
“I like this,” I admit, my body snug against the inside of his thighs, back resting softly against his chest. “It’s like my own personal cave.”
“Hmm, well you do fit quite nicely between my legs.” My pulse speeds up and I don’t need to turn around to know he’s grinning.
Extending my own legs, I lean further into him. His arms slip around my waist, fingers clasp over my stomach, cocooning me. “So how come you’re not drinking like everyone else?” he questions, and the memory of my night in the bar makes me cringe.
“I’m not really a big drinker. I don’t like what it does to people. Case in point, me, the other night. What about you?” I ask, his chin coming to rest on top of my head.
“Alcohol has caused a lot of destruction in my family,” he reveals. “Addiction runs rampant. Gambling, but specifically alcoholism on both my mother and father’s side. It’s part of the reason we’re estranged from both of their families.” He sighs, his breath fanning my hair. “There’s been a lot of damage. Hurtful things said, money borrowed that was supposedly for other things, and instead ended up being used to feed habits and destroy lives.” He strokes his thumb over my belly button through my shirt and my insides turn to liquid. “Plus, I don’t want to drink when I’m with you. I really enjoy our conversation and… I don’t want to miss anything.”
My heart skips a million times over. “That’s such a sweet thing to say.”
He chuckles. “No one has ever called me sweet before.”
I tilt my head back to catch his eyes. “Well, you are.”
He captures my chin, turning me toward him. His lips melt over mine, soft and warm before he whispers, “I think you’re pretty sweet too, Mickey.”
My entire body sinks into him, his lean, muscular arms holding me tight. I can’t remember the last time I felt this content. “Okay, Vance Davenport, tell me something no one else knows about you.”
“Let’s see.” He entwines his fingers with mine. “I used to be a closet skateboarder.”
My nose scrunches though he can’t see me. “What do you mean?”
“When I was about, I don’t know, maybe thirteen or so, I saved up all my allowance from doing chores to buy this really cool skateboard. I still remember it. It was this deep blue and bright neon green. Anyway, there was a skate park near my house and sometimes I’d sneak off there and hang out with the other kids. They taught me to do these fucking awesome tricks. I never told my mom I bought it because she would’ve worried and told me it was too dangerous.” He breathes out a laugh. “I remember wanting to be an Olympic skateboarder when I grew up, even though there was no such thing in the Olympics.” He presses a kiss against my hair. “What about you?”
“I used to be afraid of thunderstorms. When I was little, whenever there was thunder and lightning I would run into Zack’s room and huddle under the covers with him. He would tell me the angels were bowling up there to make me feel better. It definitely helped, but for some reason I still don’t love them. Oh, and I also have a photographic memory, especially with numbers. Although Avery and my parents know about that.”
“That’s damn near blackmail material.” He chuckles, and I elbow him softly in the ribs. “I like your friend, Troy,” he tells me, changing topics and catching me off guard. “He’s pretty funny.”
“Troy is amazing. I love him to pieces.”
“Did the two of you ever—”
“No.” I intercept his question. “I was never interested in him like that, and he was always into guys and never looked at me as anything other than a friend.”
Vance lets out what seems to be a relieved breath. “Right.”
“He’s had a hard time and I feel awful for him. When he came out to his parents they couldn’t cope with it. They still aren’t coping with it. They barely speak to him, except when they absolutely have to.” I sigh and Vance squeezes my hand. “From the very beginning they made him feel less than, like he wasn’t enough. Sometimes all a person needs to hear is, ‘You’re enough.’ Troy never got that from his parents and I think he needed that. Everyone does.”
“That fucking sucks. Is he okay, though? Because he seems happy.”
“Yeah, he is. He definitely has his days. But overall he’s good. He has two sisters who adore him and have always stood by him, and that makes all the difference.”
“That’s—”
“Hey, lovebirds.” The glass door slides open and Troy peeks his head out. “We’re playing Would You Rather, so get the hell in here.”
“Here we go,” I mumble, swinging my legs over the side of the lounger.
“What’s that?” Vance loops his arm around my shoulder as we head back into the house.
“Avery and Troy have a love affair with this game, so brace yourself.”
Vance allows me to walk in before him, gliding the door closed. The second I step inside, all eyes are on me.
“Perfect timing, Em,” Avery calls out. “It’s your turn and you have to play.” The three of them are lounging on the living room sofas. Avery clears her throat, trying to intimidate me with a raised eyebrow and an evil smirk. Once Vance and I are seated on the couch, she throws her first dart. “Would you rather kiss Vance or Julian?”
“Both,” Troy pipes up. Avery and I laugh, while Julian quickly takes another swig of his beer. Vance’s gaze heats the side of my face. “All right.” Troy’s eyes slide to mine. “Answer the question, Ems.”
“Gosh, I….” My face is too hot, glance darting back and forth between Julian and Vance as if actually needing to think about it. The answer is so obvious I might as well have a V carved into my chest—but I suspect my sister knows this. Pushing the blanket away, I flip her a hard stare. “I… have to go to the bathroom.” I spring up off the sofa and flee down the hall, laughing as their catcalls follow me. Inches from the door, Vance corners me from behind and spins me around. One arm braced against the wall, he hovers over me, his breath feathering my cheek.
“You didn’t answer the question,” he murmurs, blue eyes serious and probing. Flames lick up the back of my neck. Not from his proximity, but from something else. Something I don’t want to put a name to. The same something that steals my breath and makes my smile endless.
My voice comes out shaky instead of teasing. “I didn’t?”
“Nope.” His hips press into mine, body trapping me. I can feel his hardness against my thigh, but nothing about this is sexual. An air of desperation in his gaze makes me want to immediately put him at ease.
“Vance,” I whisper, skimming my fingertips down his cheek. “All my kisses belong to you.” The lines around his mouth relax and he smiles, his eyes flying to my lips.
“Mine?” he questions softly, tongue wetting his mouth, finger tracing the curve of my lower lip until I can hardly breathe. “Mine,” he repeats again more forcefully before his mouth crashes down against my lips, taking what’s his. My pulse accelerates, my heart doing a dance all its own. And I know with utmost certainty—that my kisses are not the only thing that belong to h
im.
JULIAN WOULD BE happy to know I listened to his advice—for once. Since the night at Troy’s house, I’ve been trying to put everything out of my head and just enjoy being with Ember. A day hasn’t gone by where we haven’t seen each other. Between going on interviews, continuing to search for jobs, and her additional shifts at Anna’s, it’s a juggle. But we make it work. We don’t talk much about what happens after the summer ends, though I know it’s weighing on both of our minds—for different reasons.
This is all new to me. Being with a girl, not only for this length of time, but without having sex. My body craves Ember in a way I never have before, but fear of the unknown keeps me awake at night and stops me from touching her in the desperate way I want to.
I close my eyes, my thoughts drifting to Ember as I gently pluck the strings of my guitar. Warmth settles around me, flowing in and through my veins. I picture the gentle curl of her lips, the brightness in her gaze. Something has been building inside my chest. It’s foreign and fucking uncomfortable, and yet, it makes me unable to control my smile or the beat of my heart.
Lyrics tumble from my mouth, the soft pull of my guitar falls in step with them.
I had no idea
I was walking blindly through my days
Never really seeing
Never really knowing
But along came you
Along came life
Along came life
“Hey.”
I’m smiling before I even open my fucking eyes. That’s how gone I am for this girl.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, taking in the sweet tug of her smile, the confident jut of her hip, the slight tilt of her head as she watches me. Her walnut-colored hair lies below her shoulders now, a bit longer than when we first met. She has a certain glow too, in the pink of her cheeks, the glitter of her eyes. I can’t help but wonder if that has something to do with me.
“Long enough to know you’ve been hiding your voice from me. It’s raspy and gorgeous. I’m kind of blown away actually.”
“Well,” I chuckle, “let’s not get carried away.”
She struts toward me, a gleam in those green eyes. “I think we should most definitely get carried away.” She drops to her knees in front of me, sexy as all get-out and leans in to give me a quick kiss on the lips. “In fact, I think we should get carried away tomorrow night.”
“I’m intrigued,” I reply, staring at her mouth. “What’s tomorrow night?”
She lifts the guitar and places it on my bed, then plops herself into my lap. Draping her arms around my neck, she goes on. “I thought I could make you dinner and… whatever. My mom and Avery won’t be around, so….”
“I don’t know.” I wrap my arms around her waist and edge closer, pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth. Her smile tingles against my skin. “It seems to me you’re just trying to get me naked.”
Her blush arrives, as usual, but she doesn’t back down. “And you would be right.” She wiggles her ass against my jeans and I’m instantly hard. “Am I convincing enough?”
“Hmph.” My finger brushes down the side of her face, the slope of her neck. “I need a little more convincing, I think.”
“Like what?”
“Like this.” I grab her cheeks, dragging her mouth closer to suck on the delicate skin of her full bottom lip before finding my way inside. Her tongue reaches for me, warm and wet, and so damn sweet. She tastes of light and joy, and all the things I’ve missed out on for too long. But I stop thinking and focus on her mouth, her breaths, the tangle of her tongue with mine. Her hands come up to cradle my face, and I never knew that someone’s touch—the right person’s touch—could make me feel this way. As if anything is possible. And fuck, I want her so much.
Ember’s lips leave mine, her expression dazed yet hopeful. “Is that a yes?”
Trailing my hand along her back and slipping underneath her hair, I bring her forehead to my mouth for a kiss. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be tomorrow night than with you.”
She drops her head against my shoulder, breathing a long sigh into my neck. “Good.”
We stay like that for a while. Me stroking her hair, her soft breaths warming my skin. I never realized how peaceful silence can be.
“Can I ask you something?” Her voice is low, words a whisper in the quiet. “Did you ever think about playing in a band or anything? You’re that good, Vance.”
The smell of her peach shampoo relaxes me and I rest my chin against the silky strands, breathing her in. “When I was younger, some friends of mine and I had this garage band. It was just for fun really, but it was pretty cool. My best friend Chris Raven played bass, and two other guys played drums and keyboard. I sang lead vocals and also played guitar.”
“I’ve never heard you talk about Chris before. Do you still see him?” she asks, her finger tracing over my palm. Regret fills the air at the mention of his name and I wonder if she can feel the weight of it. Whenever I’m with her now, vulnerability pours off of me in waves, exposing me. The depth of my feelings for her making it impossible to hide.
I respond with a frustrated growl, not because of her question, but my own actions. “I don’t. I kind of… fucked everything up when my mom got sick. I blew him out of my life, pushing him and everyone else away. I couldn’t deal. Didn’t want to, really.”
“He must’ve understood that though, no?” She smoothes her fingertip along the outline of my hand. “Couldn’t you get in touch now?”
“Maybe. But I was a complete asshole to him,” I add. “So I don’t know.”
“We know that part’s true.” She lifts her head, smirking. “That’s how you were when we first met.” I pinch her ass and she twists in my lap. “Anyway, more people need to hear that voice. It’s very swoony.”
“Swoony.” I laugh. “That’s a new one.”
A teasing spark flickers in her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I want girls throwing their underwear at you. But it could happen.”
“Really now?” I kiss the tip of her nose. “Well, news flash, Mickey. There’s only one girl I want throwing her underwear at me. The rest of them can go to hell.”
An enormous smile makes her entire face beam. “Perhaps I can arrange some underwear throwing for tomorrow night.” Her cheeks burn bright red. “They would be sexy underwear of course.”
I grin, letting my thumb skim her jaw. “I don’t know. I was kind of hoping they’d be Mickey Mouse underwear.”
“I’m willing to shed Mickey for special occasions.” She twirls a tendril of her hair. “Sometimes, sacrifices must be made.”
My hand travels around to the front of her t-shirt, one finger dipping inside the neckline to sweep lightly over her skin and she shivers. “If you must.”
“And right now,” she pulls my hand from her shirt and wriggles out of my lap, “I have some things I need to do.”
“Like what?” I fucking pout because I want her here, with me. “You just got here.”
“I’m having dinner with Avery and then she’s dragging me shopping.” She rolls her eyes on the last part which I know she finds excruciating. As I stand up, she gives me a kiss way too short and I want more. I try to slide my arms around her but she pulls out of my grasp, flashing me a coy grin. “Until tomorrow.”
I flop back onto the bed with a groan, adjusting the crotch of my jeans.
I’ve never looked forward to tomorrow so much in my life.
“ONE MORE,” JULIAN whines after I’ve already taken his ass in three games of pool.
“Julian. You haven’t been able to win the first three.” I place the triangle on the table to rack the balls, flipping him a cocky glance over my shoulder. “What makes you think you can win now?”
He props his stick against the table then rubs his hands together. “I was just getting warmed up.” Lifting his beer, he raises it in the air. “Cheers. Besides, what else do you have to do anyway? Your girl is busy tonight.”
My girl. I like the sound of that.
“Ah, and cue the grin. Come on,” he coaxes and I can’t help but laugh. “There it is.”
I poke him with my stick and he presses a hand to his ribs, feigning injury. “Shut the fuck up and play pool.”
“Whatever you say, loverboy.” He waggles his brows as he sets the bottle down, grabbing his pool stick and positioning himself for the first shot. “Whatever you say.”
“You’re just making me more determined to whip your ass… again.” As I move next to him, he bends at the waist to break, balls flying everywhere except in the pockets. He mutters a curse under his breath and I chuckle. “Would you look at that? You know, the goal is to get the balls in the pockets.”
“Yeah, yeah. So anyway.” He taps the butt of his stick against the floor, hesitating. “Have you… talked to Dad at all?”
“Dad, no why?” I set up for the shot, motioning with my chin toward the table. “Blue stripe in the right corner,” I announce, and the ball slides over the green felt and makes a loud crack as it lands in the pocket. “I haven’t seen him. He sent me a text saying that he was on a business trip, but nothing else.” I walk over to Julian. “What’s going on?”
“He got back last night and we grabbed a quick bite. You were with Ember. Anyway, I don’t know. He seems…,” his voice fades, “off or something.”
“Honestly, Julian, I’m not sure I’d know his off from his on at this point,” I admit, scraping a hand through my hair. “You know we haven’t been on the best of terms.”
“So why don’t you change that?” He kicks my foot with the toe of his boot. “He loves you, you know.”
“What about Mom?” I bite out. “Does he love Mom?”
“Vance.” He huffs out a frustrated breath. “Of course he does.”
“Funny. He’s got a shit way of showing it.” Like a knife slashing through my chest, the mere mention of my father rips me open. I march over to the table and drop my stick down. “I’m gonna get some fresh air.”