Will was laughing, too. With an amused groan, he said, “Never do that again.”
Halfway through another verse about shifting my gears, hands grabbed me from behind.
My shriek was genuine, my fear a shock. It lasted a split second. Long enough for Will to tip me back against his knees and to lean over me. He plastered his hands over the guitar strings to silence it.
“You’re it,” he said triumphantly.
Jittery from the adrenaline rush, I reached up to twine my arms around his neck. “Not yet. You know the rules.”
He sank down behind me, then pulled me back against his chest. His lips tasted so sweet, an extra buzz in their caress. Letting my guitar slide from my lap, I turned in his arms. On my knees in front of him, I stroked my hands over his shoulders. His smooth, sculpted collarbone slipped beneath my thumbs. I felt him swallow, felt the streak of breath in his throat.
Right there in my hands, he was alive. I felt like a god, like all this belonged to me. Like he took those breaths just for me. A heady mix of desire and invincibility made me brave. He was mine, and I could do whatever I wanted. Take whatever I wanted, feel his skin on mine, if that’s what I wanted—and I did, desperately.
Shifting my weight, I pushed him back. I climbed the length of his body, straddling his hips and bending over him. My hair fell around our faces. It shielded us from the rest of the world. It made a dark, quiet place where we could escape, even in the middle of the Arts Garden. Tugging his lower lip with my teeth, I broke away suddenly.
“Wait a minute, how did you sneak up on me? You’re still in the car!”
Will grinned. Threading his fingers in my hair, he stroked and twirled until he was hopelessly tangled in it. “My phone is in the car. I’m here with you.”
Drunk on his smile, I sank down for another kiss. “Extra points for being clever.”
His hands swept up my back, and he pulled me down the rest of the way toward him. Lying on his chest, I felt the beat of his heart. I rose and fell with his breath, and there was no space between us at all.
All at once, I was aware of him. Of his body, its hard planes pressed against me. The denim and cotton that kept me from his skin frustrated me. Maybe Will wasn’t the one who was running fast—it must have been me. Because I wanted to push the shirt from his shoulders and touch his bare skin. Feel his skin against mine, follow my hands and find out where they would take me.
Reading my mind, Will caught my wrists and held them tight. “We have to stop doing this in public.”
A flash of need struck me silent. Now he was deity, claiming me and keeping me. My fingers flickered in response; my body arched closer to his. If we were alone, someplace quiet and private, I could have him—all of him. He could have me.
Only one thing held me back from agreeing with him out loud. Jane and Grace had gotten into my head. I didn’t know how far I could go with Will if this was just a fling. Avoidance only worked for so long. I couldn’t keep lying to myself, seeing only the perfect and ignoring the flaws. He was leaving, and I didn’t know if he planned to look back for me. That hurt, and right then, I didn’t want to hurt.
Straining against his hands, I fought for a lush kiss, and won it. Slicking past his silken lips, I let myself forget again. We were in public, kissing in the shadow of Two Lovers, At Play, I could give myself up to it. There was only so far things would go here, in the Arts Garden. We still had plenty of time to talk.
Secure in that realization, I murmured Will’s name and melted into bliss.
EIGHTEEN
To get started on the film, Jane declared that we needed to get creativity fuel. By that, she meant boxes of oatmeal cream pies, bags of Pirate’s Booty, and Red Pop. Possibly the most disgusting combination in the universe, but it was tradition, and it worked for us.
She pushed our tiny cart down the snack aisle of the Red Stripe. It was a weird little grocery smack in the middle of our neighborhood. An old brick building among the vinyl siding, it had been there long before our houses were built.
Based on the desiccated shape of the apparently immortal owner, I suspected it would be there long after our houses were gone, too. It was the Market of the Damned, but Doritos were always two for one, so who could stay away?
Certainly not Jane and me. We’d gone from one snack to a growing mountain of them. With grabby hands, Jane threw in two more bags and smiled at me. “Noms.”
Incredulous, I said, “I’m going to go get the Red Pop. And nothing else. Try to control yourself.”
Glazing over, Jane pushed the cart on down the aisle. In a zombie monotone, she announced, “Need . . . Ring . . . Dings . . .”
With a mountain of processed garbage already quivering in the cart, the last thing she needed was Ring Dings. But I knew better than to get in her way. Jane was going to do what she wanted. No input needed, no advice regarded. And when she was sick as a dog at three in the morning, she’d be gracious enough to let me say I told you so.
I checked my phone as I headed toward beverages. I was so caught up in scanning my Instagram feed that I didn’t realize the drinks aisle was populated. With popular people. Specifically, with Tricia and her best friend, Nedda.
By the time I raised my head and realized who was there, it was too late to bolt.
“Oh, hey, Sarah,” Nedda said suddenly. Her voice was sticky and thick, too sweet for the situation for sure. “Doing a little light shopping?”
Guilty, I couldn’t quite meet either of them eye to eye. They’d come to our gig. Invited us to party with them. Gotten Dasa the prom gig. Basically, Tricia Patten was the nicest girl in the entire freaking universe, and now I felt six feet lower than the dirt at her feet.
“Just getting some soda.”
“Oh,” Nedda said. “I thought you might be shopping for somebody else’s boyfriend.”
Everyone knew. Of course they knew. I wanted to slap Nedda for bringing it up, but the fact was, I’d been a jerk.
I’d been a sneaky, underhanded jerk to Tricia of all people, who had never been anything but nice to me, all through high school.
“Knock it off, Nedda,” Tricia said, proving my point ably.
Surprised, Nedda looked from Tricia to me, then back again. Snatching up her purse, she said, “I need Funyuns,” then stalked off.
My heart lurched into a random pattern, the confrontation over before it started. Or was it? Adrenaline raced through me, and it felt like I should say something. But what? Watching until Nedda disappeared, I finally turned to Tricia and took a deep breath. “I owe you an apology.”
“Okay . . .” she said. She sounded more curious than anything else.
“I’m sorry for the way things started with Will.” My throat tried to close, but I kept forcing words through it. My awful inner self still wanted to deflect. To explain and blame, to tell her I didn’t know they were still dating. To lie, if it would only make this easier. None of that mattered, though. I had done plenty of wrong, and I had to face my part in it. “I never intended to hurt you,” I stammered. “But of course I understand that intentions don’t count.”
“Huh.”
I’m not sure what I expected. It would have made sense if Tricia had taken the opportunity to lay into me. Or to press a needling finger right into my guilt. If she’d screamed, or raged, or moved to hit me. Instead, she lifted a four-pack of artisan root beer off the shelf and put it in her cart.
“Will and I had been friends for a long time,” she said, her voice quivering slightly. She didn’t sound angry, so much as wounded. “When I first asked him out, he told me that he loved me. As a friend. And if I wanted to add benefits to that, he’d be crazy to say no. But I was the crazy one—to think I was the last girl he’d be with.”
An ache spread in my chest. I wanted to hug her. Comfort her. Instead, I kept my hands to myself and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”
>
Tricia shook her head. “I was stupid. You can overlook a lot when your friends are the ones behaving badly. Before I asked him out, I thought it was kind of . . . funny, I guess. That girls just couldn’t say no to him. That he went from one conquest, to the next, to the next. That everybody fell for him and got their piece and it was all good.”
Internally, I winced. But it wasn’t news to me that Will had more experience than I did. It was practically chiseled into the school trophy case. Most Conquests in a Single Season: Will Spencer.
My throat closed up, but I took a step closer. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“Look, I blame him,” Tricia said. Then her expression hardened. “But you should be careful. I thought I was different. You probably think you’re different, too. Will Spencer was one of my best friends, and he still cheated on me. He’s never going to change, Sarah.”
Like a shard of glass, that buried itself deep. It was unreachable, and agonizing. I was different. The both of us felt it. We both said it. Right?
I closed on myself a little, building a shield out of crossed arms. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. You’ve been incredibly good to me, and I should have been kinder to you.”
Tricia’s expressive face said so much. She was quiet, thoughtful. And deeply, deeply hurt.
“Personally,” she said, summoning a forced smile, “I think he just hates to be alone. One girl’s never going to be enough to fill him up. Not me, and not you.”
I didn’t know what to say. Did I agree? I didn’t know. But I knew I wasn’t about to argue with her. Tricia touched my shoulder gently. If she noticed my flinch, she didn’t acknowledge it. But she did meet my eyes. In her delicate voice, she said, “Good luck.”
It wasn’t cruel. It was simply matter-of-fact. She said it and walked on, cloaked in thoughtful dignity. And I think that’s why it bothered me so much. She could have been vicious and hateful—and I would have deserved it. But she had known Will incredibly well. It scared me that she offered me a warning. She must have really thought I needed it.
And while I stood there wondering what to believe, my phone chimed. Will had good timing—or maybe bad. I wasn’t quite sure.
so u know, ur busy all night tomorrow night w me.
My pulse quickened. Curling around my phone, my fingers danced across the screen. He really was like a drug. Tricia’s words still echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t wait to see him. I didn’t know what he had planned, but I actually ached to find out.
Where are we going? I asked.
It’s a surprise, he said. Trust me.
NINETEEN
With nightfall coming, we drove down the old river road outside of town. Before the highway, everybody took this road to get to the beachy cottages that lined the water. It was just far enough away that you could say you went somewhere with the summer, but not so far that you had to refill your gas tank until it was time to go home.
With the top down, my hair was a wild mane. It swept around my face, twisting and tangling as we sped into the dark. There were no streetlights this way. No bright, illuminated signs. In fact, a few miles out of town, it turned into forest. Flashes of moonlight on water danced between the trees and the sweet scent of pine filled the air.
About an hour later, Will pulled off the main road. At first, I thought he was just going to park on the shoulder so we could walk to the water. But the bounce and jolt of tires on gravel told me otherwise. We took the hidden drive slowly. The lighter stone pathway looked almost liquid in the dark, like we were cruising along a river of our own.
Finally, Will pulled to a stop. Cutting the engine, he came around to open my door. Taking my hand, he led me carefully along the rough path to a cabin nestled in a stand of weeping willows. The headlights dark, the car silent now, everything took on an otherworldly shape. Summer frogs chirped all around us, the whisper of crickets filling the spaces between.
Wood smoke lingered in the air. Pungent and rich, it seemed to swirl with a cooler, cleaner scent. It took me a moment to realize it was the smell of fresh running water. Though the path hadn’t been sure in the dark, I could tell we were close to the river here. Closing my eyes to shut out all the dim light, I heard it. The swift, smooth rush of water carried with it a chorus of night sounds.
Producing a single key, Will unlocked the cabin and stepped aside to let me walk in first. As soon as I did, I realized he’d already been out here today. There was a fire banked low in the stone hearth. Glass bottles shimmered in a pail of half-melted ice. I laughed when I picked one up and realized it was root beer.
Will tossed me a church key, then leaned back against the door. “I still owed you.”
“Yes, you did,” I said with a smile. “Are we breaking and entering?”
“Nah,” he said, his gaze trailing my face. “My family owns it.”
“It’s nice,” I said. I opened a root beer and started to toss the cap into the fire. Instead, I slipped it into my pocket. The glass was cool on my lips as I took a sip, the soda lush and spicy. Moving through the cabin, I took in all the little details. The living room was just big enough for a couch. A tiny table with two chairs sat behind it.
French doors opened onto the river. From here, I saw starlight on the current. It danced like fireflies, chasing and chasing, never stopping. If I took half a step, the light shifted and I saw Will reflected in the glass behind me. His gaze followed me, burning even in the dim light.
“It’s not as nice as the cottage I had at Marblehead. But maybe we can do that next year. Winter break, maybe?”
Turning, I leaned against cool glass. The cabin was so small, it would only take a few steps for us to meet in the middle.
He looked so pristine. So absolutely perfect. His thin white button-down clung to his chest, the collar open to reveal a beaded chakra necklace encircling his throat. It was a flash of color against his skin. It matched his jeans and brought out the blue of his eyes. Shadows played up and down his body, and he knew I was drinking in his details. He leaned his head back against the door. Raised one foot to press against it. Thumbs hooked in his jeans, Will was utterly comfortable being contemplated.
A dark thrill came over me. If everything went right, I’d get to see all of him. Summer and swim class meant I’d seen nearly every inch of his body.
Cut and perfectly angled, his back was as tempting as his chest; his strong arms matched the muscled length of his thighs. And with or without jeans, it was obvious he had a world-class, quarter-bounceworthy ass. But now I’d find out where that dark streak of hair beneath his navel ended. If that heavy curve in his jeans was backed up by an impressive erection.
Six-months-ago Sarah would have been too squeamish to even think about something like that. Now, I wanted to know—even if it made me squirm to admit it, even to myself.
With a sip of root beer to fortify me, I tried to stand there as comfortably in my own skin as he did. I think I managed it. I felt good in my black eyelet lace. Its halter-top showed a little skin, but the color left some mystery. I loved the way it moved. Will’s gaze traveled down the flared lines and lingered on my bare thighs.
A blush rose on my chest, slipping up my throat and touching the tips of my ears. No one had ever looked at me the way Will was looking at me now. Most of the time, I was the girl that people’s eyes slid past.
My sisters got the refined beauty in the family. I was rougher, my hair untamed. My hands were too big to be elegant. I wasn’t tall enough to be willowy, but I was too tall to be petite.
Under Will’s slow consideration, to my own surprise, I felt sexy. I felt worthy—crazy irresistible. I became aware of my own power, my own heat. He wanted to get to everything I hid beneath my dress. When he dragged a hand over his mouth, I knew it was watering. He probably had plans for me. Slipping his tongue into me, maybe his fingers, too. What’s more, I wanted him to. I wanted hi
m to gasp for me. To beg for me.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but he’d made me feel exactly the same way that first night in the boathouse. No wonder I ended up flirting with him. No wonder I pushed him back and kissed him first. Being with Will stripped away my inhibitions. He made me forget to be afraid.
“You know, St. P-Windsor’s only four hours away.” Will shifted, his foot slipping off the door. Tension jangled my nerves, but I loved him so fiercely right then. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed off the glass doors to make my way to him.
Heat pooled between my legs and my skin begged to be bared. If I tugged at the ribbons on my halter, it would fall away. All my bare skin would be his to kiss, to touch—to lick. Nipples hard behind thin, silky fabric, they stung in anticipation. The tremble in my belly translated to a thin, shimmery ache beneath my lacy lingerie.
Already, I could imagine how dark Will’s hair would look against my skin. What I longed to find out was what his mouth would look like, plush and swollen and worshipping the curve of my breast. Sinking lower. Disappearing between my thighs—
But I was the one in control here. My body had to follow my mind. I had to know that Will and I weren’t just talking about the future, but that we were going to have one.
Clutching the root beer so hard my knuckles went white, I said, “You might feel differently when you get there. You’re going to meet so many new people.”
“They’re not you,” Will replied.
“They might be hot.”
His voice rougher, lower, Will took a step. “But they’re not you.”
“We don’t have the best track record,” I said. I berated myself for reminding him that we hadn’t been free to get together when we first got together. But I couldn’t avoid it, could I? As nervous as I was to have this conversation, it had to happen. I couldn’t keep going with Will unless I knew we were going somewhere permanent. All that uncertainty knotted me up and I couldn’t relax until we pulled those knots free.
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