Flutter
Page 26
Dylan nodded and hugged her tighter. “It’ll grow back. And for the record, you’re beautiful no matter what length your hair is.”
Presley grinned and rolled her eyes. “Don’t try to butter me up for getting paint in my hair. I’m still mad.”
Dylan winked. “You’ll forgive me.”
“Of course I will,” Presley sighed. Her eyes widened as her gaze lowered to his shirt. “Dylan, I got paint on your shirt!”
Dylan shook his head. “It’s fine. This is an old shirt anyway.” He pulled it off and tossed it to the side, not realizing Presley had frozen in her spot.
“Dylan,” she exhaled, turning away from the mirror to face him. Her eyes remained locked on his chest, the sight of his tattoo causing her stomach to tighten and her vision to blur. Lifting her hand, she traced the outline, not missing the way Dylan’s muscles tensed when she touched his skin. “What is this?”
Dylan cocked his head to the side, his eyes hesitant. “You don’t remember?”
A feeling of apprehension washed over Presley as she closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her that question, and she was more than certain it wouldn’t be the last. After a moment, her shoulders dropped, and she lifted her eyes to his before shaking her head.
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with compassion. “It’s okay, baby,” he whispered, cupping her hand in his. “This is our flutter.” He moved their hands over the right wing, the wing that was bright red, beautiful, and full of life. “This was us before.” Moving their hands to the left wing, he traced the broken and decayed wing, the wing where the vibrant red color was void and only black, lifeless decay was etched into his skin. “This is how I felt when I thought I’d lost you forever.”
Presley couldn’t speak, her emotions ripping out her throat and cutting out her tongue. Instead, she leaned forward, not caring that her tears dripped onto his skin as she kissed first the right wing then the left wing of his tattoo. Her fingertips drifted over his skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake. After a moment, she pulled in a deep breath and lifted her gaze to his. The love she saw, the unconditional understanding and patience, nearly caused her knees to buckle.
“I’ve missed this so much,” she whispered, her throat tight.
“What have you missed?” Dylan asked, breathless.
Presley swallowed and cupped his cheek. “The butterflies,” she whispered. “I’ve missed the butterflies. Even after all this time you make everything flutter. You always will.” Dylan leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, and the world was nothing but light and love.
“Make love to me,” she choked, her body trembling.
Dylan didn’t ask her if she was sure; it couldn’t have been clearer in her eyes. Instead, he nodded and lifted her in the air, wrapping her legs around his waist and walking them into the bedroom before laying her on the bed. His kiss was gentle and frantic, love and desire, now and forever. After he turned her body to fire and ash, he crawled over her and cradled her jaw, whispering promises of the future as he made her body come to life and feel at peace for the first time in more than six years.
Presley looked through her bags, checking for the hundredth time that she’d grabbed all her things. Another month had passed since she and Dylan had reconnected in every way, and for the first time, she truly felt ready to move on to the next phase of her life. She would start her first semester of college soon, an undecided major like so many of her peers. But that was okay because now she had all the time in the world. While she had been poring over college brochures and applications, Dylan had spent his time planning their vacation. He wanted to spend Christmas in Hawaii. He had tried his best to be nonchalant about the trip, but after finding an engagement ring website open on his browser, she knew the trip meant so much more. She would say yes. She would always say yes to Dylan.
“The tulips are beautiful,” Presley murmured, her eyes bright as she bounced with nervous excitement along the path to the parking lot. Dylan followed behind her, a large suitcase in each hand. She looked behind her and frowned. “Do you need a hand?”
Dylan rolled his eyes and set the bags next to his car. “Had you asked me about 200 yards ago, I would have said yes.”
Presley laughed and slipped her arms around his waist, her head resting against his chest where his tattoo lay as she looked at the place that had been her prison and home for more than six years. “Is it weird that I’m still a little nervous?”
“No,” Dylan answered, his chin resting on the top of her head as he leaned them against his car. “You know you don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”
Presley shook her head and twisted in his arms. Rolling up on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m ready. I promise.”
Dylan smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose as he grabbed the bags and shoved them in the back seat before climbing behind the wheel of the car. Presley hesitated for another minute, her eyes closing briefly as she relived the best and worst memories of her time at Hilltop. She had made horrible decisions, decisions that had broken her in incomprehensible ways. But in the end, through the haze of drugs and the manipulation of those she trusted, she found her light. She found her love. She found her forever. Casting one final glance at Hilltop, she crawled into the car, threading her fingers through Dylan’s before releasing a relieved exhale. “Elvis has left the building.”
When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways—either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits, or by using the challenge to find our inner strength.
—Dalai Lama
Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
Teens in Crisis: 1-866-942-6466
Acknowledgments
Mark—Thank you for always encouraging me to write, even though you know the publication of another book will ultimately lead to another tattoo. You’re good people. ;) ILY.
Julie—Five years ago, I left a rambling message outlining the plot of this book on your voicemail. It’s been a long road, and there have been so many changes along the way, but even when the subject matter was difficult, you held my hand through it all. Julie, you are an amazing woman and I love you.
Mia—You have read this book more times than I have. You called me out when it felt wrong and encouraged me when I got it right. You push and push and push and even though I disappear and drive you crazy you still stand by me. I don’t say it enough, but I want you to know that I’d be lost without you. Thank you for indulging every facet of my craziness on a daily basis.
Jennifer—Your friendship means the world to me. I love that you challenge and encourage me to be the absolute best I can be. You never wavered through this whole process and you didn’t pull a single punch. Your honest, no nonsense advice gave me the encouragement I needed to push through this book. I’m so happy to have you in my life.
Kelly—Thank you for always being there when I needed a sounding board. I don’t know how you put up with my manic behavior, but I will forever be grateful.
Christine—Thank you for sticking with me and working tirelessly to promote my words. Your friendship, as always, is a godsend.
Jada—You knocked it out of the park with this cover. Here’s hoping future covers are all this easy!
Lisa—My wonderful editor, you did it again. You told me things I didn’t want to hear and held my hand when I had to suck it up and do them. I can’t imagine anyone else ever editing my words. So, good luck with dealing with me for the rest of forever. You’re welcome. ;)
And last but certainly not least, to my girls, my “Entourage”. If people know this book exists, it’s likely because of y’all. The tweets, the shares, the out and out balls to the wall pimping that you all do is mind blowing. Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives to spread the word about my books. You guys are the best ever.
To everyone who takes the time to read my word, thank you. There are millions of books out there, t
hank you for choosing mine. Without you, none of this would be possible.
About the Author
Olivia Evans is a dreamer by day, writer by night. She’s obsessed with music and loves discovering new bands. Traveling the world and watching the sun set in every time zone sounds like heaven to her. A true Gemini, she follows her heart blindly and lives life to the fullest with her husband, son, and friends. Her other loves are: Chuck Taylors, Doc Martens, concert tees, gangster movies, sports, wine, craft beer, and her shih tzu babies.
Connect with Olivia on Facebook, Instagram, Goodreads, or visit her website at oliviaevansauthor.com.
Books by Olivia Evans
Hollywood & Vine
Brooklyn & Beale
Credits
Editor:
Lisa A. Hollett
Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC
Cover Design:
Jada D'Lee
Jada D'Lee Designs
Interior Design and Formatting:
Jill
Evil Kitty Books
Copyright © 2017 by Olivia Evans
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ASIN: B072Z8KGVM
ISBN-13: 978-1548370664
ISBN-10: 1548370665