Ever (The Ever Trilogy)

by Jessa Russo

  With a little help from Toby, I popped the screen off the window as quietly as I could then climbed down onto the grass. Before I was even all the way out the window, he’d dropped the flowers and his arms were around me, helping me down. Once on the ground, he didn’t let go of me, and I felt the heat of his fingers on my back, one hand below the other, splaying openly as if to feel my entire back at the same time. I felt my own body heating up in response to those strong hands, regardless of my better judgment.

  His eyes looked playful in the darkness, and he bit his bottom lip before kissing me.

  With his lips on mine, he slowly pushed until my back was against the cold stucco wall of the house. Though I was a little caught off guard, my surprise only lasted a second, giving way to an intensely happy feeling in my chest. It felt far too good to be kissing Toby again, and I couldn’t help but melt into it.

  I could question his disappearing act later.

  He didn’t kiss me with the restraint or softness of our first two kisses. This time, he kissed me hungrily, clearly not holding back. The kind of kiss I’d only ever imagined, and I was momentarily stunned by the power of it. My heart pounded with relief—he’d missed me as much as I’d missed him. But wait… .

  I wondered why he disappeared for four days if he liked me as much as he seemed to.

  Stopping our kiss reluctantly, I put my hands on his chest and pushed him away from me. Toby’s reluctance clearly matched my own, and he only allowed me to push him back a few inches, refusing to remove his arms from around my waist. We were still so close, and I felt his breath on my face, as uneven and fast as my own. My heart pounded excitedly, a deafening noise in my ears. All I wanted to do was resume the kissing.

  But alas, I needed answers, and my heart lost the battle with my mind.

  “Wait. Back to what you were saying. Where have you been, exactly?”

  He absentmindedly played with a strand of my hair, curling and uncurling it around his finger. I tried not to notice, but I swear I felt as if every part of my body was on high alert around him. Even the tips of my long hair seemed to be aware of his touch, though obviously I knew that was impossible.

  “I know. I’m so sorry. I should have called, and I wanted to, but I don’t have your number—and I know I should have told you on Monday that I had to leave for work, but I forgot, and then your parents seemed so angry—and I just got back today, and I’m so sorry, Ever … forgive me?”

  He inclined his head back in toward mine and took a little swipe at my bottom lip, grazing it lightly with a kiss. He had the most ridiculous puppy-dog look on his face, and I knew he was playing up the pout for my benefit, but I found that I just couldn’t stay mad at him. I was too happy to be near him again to think of much else, especially being angry with him. I looked away, trying to grab a hold of my thoughts, but he mistook it as stubbornness and thought he needed to plead a bit more. I decided it didn’t hurt to let him beg a little.

  “Please forgive me, Ever? I brought you your favorite flowers … .” He reached down for them, letting go of my waist. He retrieved the flowers from the ground, but stayed down on one knee, reaching up to tickle my nose with them. He looked so silly on one knee, like a character out of a fairy tale.

  I giggled a little and pushed them aside. As I did so, he grabbed my hand, and in one quick movement, pulled me down to the ground so I was sitting next to him. I shrieked in mock annoyance, but didn’t resist him.

  “Shh. Your parents will hear you! They hate me enough already.”

  We scooted back to the wall so we were leaning back into the shadows underneath my window. The grass was slightly damp and cold on my exposed legs and barely-covered butt. I tried to pull my cover-up underneath me as far as it would go. Which wasn’t far. He didn’t miss that part, and I watched his eyes roll over the length of my bare legs, blushing as he did so.

  “They don’t hate you; they just think you’re too old for me. Thought. They thought you were too old for me. Not anymore. They’re cool with it now. And they’re not home anyway.”

  “Oh?”

  He looked over at me, wiggling his eyebrows up and down animatedly, looking pretty ridiculous. I elbowed him lightly and laughed when he tried to elbow me back, but winced as his bare skin brushed against the stucco instead.

  “So what did you tell them to change their minds about me? How smart I am? How good looking? My undeniable charm?”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes.

  “Ha! Please. I told them the truth, of course. I mean really, if they think twenty-two is old, they’d be amazed at how old you actually are … you know, in vampire years.”

  I looked at him then, smiling, waiting for a laugh, but the playfulness in his face was gone. Maybe I’m not as funny as I think I am. Bummer.

  “No, seriously. What did you tell them?”

  ”What, why so serious? Oh please tell me you aren’t actually a vampire, Toby.”

  With that he relaxed again and his smile returned with that knowing smirk I was beginning to really enjoy.

  “Why? If I say I am, will you let me bite you?” He leaned toward my neck, causing me to suck in a breath, but stopped right next to my ear and whispered, “Too bad for you, I’m not.” He gave my neck a quick nibble, right below my earlobe, sending shivers down my spine.

  Mmm.

  “Psssh! Whatever! Too bad for you.” I pulled away from him and gave him another playful elbow to the ribs.

  We sat in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, my hand in his.

  “Well?”

  “Welll … what?”

  “Well, what was it that actually did make your parents come around, aside from the now-known fact that I’m not a blood-sucking fiend?”

  I explained to him how illogical their argument had been when they were about to ship me off to college—as if Jessie and I wouldn’t be around older guys in just a few short months anyway. He pondered that idea for a minute, looking off into the distance with a look on his face that I couldn’t quite place.

  “They probably figure I’ll be some quick fling, and you’ll forget about me come fall, right?” He grinned wildly and added, “I mean, who knows, twenty-two is nothing comparatively. You could end up dating some really old guy … like one of your professors.”

  “Eeew! No way!”

  We both laughed, and he leaned in again to kiss me. He still held my hand between us, but his free hand reached up and found a spot behind my neck that seemed to be specially made for his hand. It fit perfectly there, cupping my head and holding me to him. I let him kiss me, his mouth exploring mine, wiping most thoughts from my mind.

  Maybe Jess has kissed so many boys because none of them have been like this. There’s no way they’ve been like this. His hand moved to the side of my neck, resting just below my ear. His thumb moved back and forth over my jawline. More shivers travelled through me, the sensation of his hand on my skin an amazing feeling.

  Or, maybe they’ve all been like this. Hmm.

  After a few minutes of kissing, he pulled back to look at me. I was breathless and excited, wanting more, so much more. His eyes were so amazingly dark and unlike anything I’d ever seen before. I couldn’t look away, even though I felt self-conscious under his intense stare. After a few long seconds of him studying my face and me trying to control my breathing, I broke the silence.

  “So … what do you do anyway? For work, I mean.”

  He visibly tensed, and I wondered why. He sat back beside me, his hands holding one of mine in his lap again, absently playing with my fingers.

  “I’ve told you just about everything there is to know about me, you know.”

  He looked over at me and smiled, nodding. “You have a point. Well, I travel a lot, obviously. We have jobs all over the place.”

  I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

  “Okay, and … ?”

  “Well, I’m a collector. Of sorts.”

  “A collector? Oh, like antiques or somethi
ng?”

  “Sure. You could say that. I work for Ted, I mean, my dad. Sometimes we have to travel. It’s cool.”

  “You call your dad Ted?” I’d never understood kids who refused to call their parents what they were—Mom and Dad. Except for Jessie of course; she had her reasons. Valid reasons at that.

  “No, well, yeah. Sort of. I call him that when we’re on a job. It’s more professional than ‘dad.’ I guess I just get used to it, and sometimes it slips out.”

  “So, what do you do with the antiques? Do you guys have a shop or something? An EBay store?” My mom could lose hours searching for the perfect item at the perfect price.

  “No, definitely not EBay.” He said with a laugh. “I guess the best way to explain it is that we have jobs where we are sent to collect one thing in particular for the person we work for.”

  “And then that person sells them on eBay?”

  He laughed at my insistence on referring back to eBay. “Yes, yes, okay, like eBay, but not eBay.”

  I could tell he wasn’t going to elaborate further, but I kind of understood. eBay, but not eBay. Maybe flea markets were more his style. Or antique stores. That made sense. Some things were too valuable to sell on eBay, so they’d find their home in a fancy antique store instead. Maybe the people who hired Toby and his dad owned high-end antique stores.

  He changed the subject shortly after that, and before I even realized it, we’d been talking about me and only me for hours. Just like during our previous dates, he managed to keep me talking and seemed to thoroughly enjoy learning every single detail about me, while I again learned nothing about him. He kept asking questions and digging, never leaving me room to turn the topic back to him. My life. My likes. My dislikes. My friends. My family. My dog. I don’t think there was anything we hadn’t covered between Sunday and tonight, except Frankie, of course. But somehow, it felt like I could continue talking to him forever and he wouldn’t be bored.

  My yawns were increasing in frequency and strength, however, and my eyes began to water with each one. Before I knew it, I’d stopped talking and was barely aware of the fact that I’d fallen asleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest peacefully lulling me. I tried to tell myself to open my eyes, but nothing happened.

  “Ever? I think you should probably go inside and get some sleep. It’s pretty late.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Ever? Wake up.”

  Half asleep, I pulled open my eyes and slowly stood, turning to crawl back into my window. Toby’s hands on either side of my waist stopped me, and he turned me around to face him. He gently pulled my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ears, leaving his hands there on either side of my face, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. He kissed me again, less needy than earlier, his tongue never entering my mouth. Though this kiss was much softer and gentler than our earlier kiss, my butterflies flew into a tizzy nonetheless.

  So thoroughly focused on his kiss, I hadn’t even realized he’d moved when I suddenly felt the heat of his hands on my back, underneath my cover-up, one hand between my shoulder blades and the other resting right above the top of my bikini bottoms. The hand on my lower back pulled me toward him and held me firmly in place. I was acutely aware of the fingers on that hand, their placement a little lower than my waist. All feeling in my body was centered there, in that small area just below my waistline where his fingers rested easily, an area that had yet to be touched until now.

  My excitement burned, and I felt exhilarated. No longer tired, his light, easy kissing was suddenly not sufficient. I wanted more from him. I opened my mouth over his, exploring his mouth with my tongue, my body waking up from its brief slumber. He responded in kind, his hands tightening around me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I reached my hands up behind him and tangled them in his wavy hair. I was suddenly very fully awake, and much more aggressive than I’d ever imagined I could be. He pressed me back against the wall again and leaned into me. His hips crushed mine, and I was acutely aware of the pressure of his body in places that had never felt that kind of pressure before. My eyes wanted to pop open and widen at the thought of it, but I refrained. Instead, I continued to kiss him, my hands in his hair, and my hips pressing back lightly into his.

  A few minutes later, he pulled away from me. I was breathless and slightly flustered. That amused grin was on his face once again, and his hair was slightly askew. Wow. I felt a chill from the night air touch my skin in all the places the heat of his body had just been pressed. Longing seeped through me, my body begging not to let him stop kissing me.

  “Can I see you tomorrow?”

  “Mmhmm.” It came out as almost a moan, and he laughed quietly. Geez! Get a hold of yourself! I cleared my throat and tried again. “Yes, definitely.” Better.

  With my hand absently smoothing my hair, I smiled, pressing my lips tightly together to try to restrain the shit-eating grin bursting to get loose. Holy mackerel! That kiss was amazing.

  “Cool. Tomorrow then. Eleven?” He paused, waiting for my response.

  I nodded.

  “Good night, Ever.” He kissed me on the tip of my nose, turned me around, then lifted me back onto my window sill, all without my help since I was still half-dazed and useless from the intensity of the kissing. Behind me, I heard him reconnect the screen I had popped off earlier. “Sweet dreams, Ever.”

  When I turned around again, he was gone. A content and exhausted sigh escaped my lips, and I plopped down onto my bed without bothering to change into my pajamas. I fell asleep feeling happier than I could ever remember feeling. I was really looking forward to tomorrow. Or, well, not tomorrow exactly, since it was already three in the morning.

  I hoped I would dream of Toby.

  Ever, Ever, wake up.”

  With a gasp, I woke up to Frankie leaning over me. I was terrified. My eyes darted around the room, trying to make sense of my surroundings. I was vaguely aware I had been desperately searching for Frankie in my dream again. My heart thudded loudly in my ears as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. At the sight of Frankie’s face, relief slowly pushed its way to the surface; the fear subsided, securing itself back into my dream world.

  I sat up and reached out to hug him, so thankful he was there.

  He quickly jumped back, away from the bed. I stopped myself mid-reach, suddenly realizing my mistake. I couldn’t hug him. I would have fallen forward—through him—and off the bed. I leaned back against my headboard, disappointed once again that I couldn’t touch him or reassure myself of his safety by holding him.

  I was soaked with sweat, my pillow a wet, crumpled mess behind me, and my sheets scrunched up into a tangled pile again. My hair was plastered to my back.

  After a few long seconds, Frankie sat down on the edge of the bed and slowly took in every inch of me. Looking down, I realized I must have stripped out of my cover-up sometime during the night. I was still in my bikini from yesterday, having been too exhausted earlier to change out of it. I looked around and found my cover-up in a ball on the floor next to my bed. I reached for it quickly, throwing it on over my head. Not that it covered anything.

  Frankie smiled at me, amused by my haste, before his face turned serious. “Are you okay, Doll?”

  “I was searching for you. But … but I can’t remember why.”

  “Yeah, you were calling my name again.”

  “I can’t remember anything about my dreams. It’s really weird.”

  “It’s okay, Doll. They’re just dreams. You’re safe … and look … I’m completely intact and right here.” Noticing the slight tilt of my head and raised eyebrows, he realized the irony of what he’d said. Chuckling quietly, he stood and splayed his arms out as if saying voilà.

  “Well, not intact, exactly, but here nonetheless.”

  His smile faded, and his tone became serious once more, “And I’m not going anywhere, Doll.”

  I smiled at him, finding comfort in not only his promise, but again in just his presence. It seemed everything
was all right in my world when Frankie was around.

  He sat down on the bed again, and I found myself wanting badly for him to lie with me. I wanted to wrap myself around him and never let him go. I’d never felt so safe with someone or so drawn to them—Frankie had been my entire world for so long. My safe place.

  I was surprised to realize that I was simultaneously feeling that same strong pull toward Toby. I was either becoming totally boy crazy or totally crazy crazy. Either way, at that moment, my new feelings for Toby aside, I wanted nothing more than to be able to lie with Frankie, reassuring myself of his safety.

  Somehow, as if he could read my thoughts, Frankie looked down, waved his arm over the bed, and raised his eyebrows as if to ask, ‘you gonna make some room?’

  I scooted back against the wall like I had before, and Frankie lay down next to me. He didn’t say another word, just stared into my eyes. I drifted off to sleep, knowing he was watching over me.

  I woke up freezing cold from sleeping in nothing but a bikini and my scant cover-up, my sheets still in a tangled mess on the floor where I’d left them during the night. But sleep had come, and like the other times, something about having Frankie there was so soothing I’d slept soundlessly.

  My bed was empty, and I quickly discovered that my room was as well. I felt an ache of disappointment that I quickly tucked away. What was I going to do with myself? I can’t keep having these feelings for Frankie, cannot be in love with him. Next door lived a real flesh and blood guy—and super-hot flesh and blood at that—who actually wanted to take me out, and who could actually, potentially—possibly?—become my boyfriend.

  Hopefully.

  It was obvious that something had to shake me of the impossible feelings for Frankie.