by Nicole Snow
“Ryan...”
This is either a terrible idea, or the best thing that's ever happened. I'm scared to find out which. Fireworks are blooming in my young brain, and it seems like every sense has been heightened, like there's a steady current humming through my skin.
“No, don't say anything,” he tells me, gently bringing one hand to my face. “Let me take you out. We missed prom a couple months ago. We've got the whole summer ahead, and I'm cashing in my savings for a car soon. I want you by my side. We'll go wherever you want, see if this works, or if it's just in my head.”
Scared or not, I'm smiling. It's even cuter that he's doubting himself because I haven't said anything yet.
“As long as you have a plan to keep yourself from getting killed when daddy and Matt find out, I'm game. They're going to know what's going on as soon as I'm asking permission to hang out. I like you, too, Ryan, by the way.” I bat my eyes, a giddy warmth spreading through my veins.
He grins. “We don't need to worry about them.”
“Huh?” Panic shoots through my chest for about the dozenth time that night.
“I spoke to your family after dinner. Told them my intentions, and assured them I'd be the best boyfriend you ever had. They made it clear I'd be a dead man walking if I ever let you down – and I'd expect nothing less – but they gave me the nod.”
I can't believe it. I'm lost for words, too, so I just wrap my hands around his broad neck and bring myself in closer, laying my forehead on his.
“You remember the day I called you cute? First time we really met, and I took you home, after you tumbled in that oil slick?”
“Yeah,” I whisper. Like I could ever forget.
“I've been biting my tongue the last two years so it doesn't happen again. Holding in all the things I want to say. Hell, let's be honest, you're not cute anymore, Kara-bou.” He pauses, moves his fingertips gently into my skin, tipping my face to his, forcing me to look at him. “You're beautiful. And you'd better believe I'm going to treat your beauty, your brains, and ever other part of you like gold.”
There's about one second to prepare for my first kiss before his lips are on mine. It's rainbows, lightning, and crackling fire racing through my blood. My heart goes mad, pounding in my chest like a drum the whole ten seconds our lips are locked, exploring each other for the very first time.
When he pulls away, I've learned what swooning means.
“I have to get out of here before we get really crazy,” he says, brushing his lips against mine one more time. “We're going to be dynamite. Try being patient, Kara. I know, it's not easy – you've been wanting a piece of this for years, every time I see you give me that look across the table.”
“Look?” What look is he talking about?
“Did not!” Smiling, I push him, trying not to laugh, knowing full well I'm lying through my teeth.
“I'll call tomorrow. Let's figure out where we want to go for our first date. I hear they're starting the summer tours at the Armitage Lighthouse next week. Awesome view up there. Perfect for a couple of history nerds.”
“Yeah, perfect for you.” I stick my tongue out. He laughs, and I blush, knowing I can't hide anything. “I'd love to check it out, Ryan. We'll talk after school.”
We share one more smile, and he's gone, crawling out my window. I hear him bounce into the bushes, and run off into the night. I always feel bad when he leaves, knowing he has to go back to his disgusting, lazy foster parents for the night.
Tonight, there's extra guilt, because he deserves better. I hope he finds it sometime in the next year, whatever happens with us, especially now that he's turning eighteen and he can finally move out.
I'm going to make him happy, any way I can.
It's the least I can do. He's just made me the happiest girl in Split Harbor High, and I'm excited to see what it's like when a dream comes true.
2
Happily Never After (Ryan)
Eighteen Months Later
It's her eighteenth birthday, and we're heading to our favorite spot. Where the hell has the last year gone, anyway?
I can't stop thinking about it as we drive, the roads flanked by beauty, like entering a real life oil painting.
The trees have become a fiery band of red, orange, and yellow between Marquette, Split Harbor, and the surrounding counties. The hues near the Armitage Lighthouse are so beautiful they're almost blinding. It's late August, and autumn has come early to Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Almost like nature decided to give my girl her finest before she leaves for college next week.
Too bad they've got nothing on the hottest woman alive in the seat next to me, clutching the leather purse I worked my ass off to get her close to her chest. It's hunter green – her favorite color – a forest shade that fits her eyes.
“Why doesn't this get old, Ryan?” she whispers, laying her head against my shoulder. “How many times have we been here this year? About a dozen?”
“Not enough,” I say, reaching for her hand while I pull into a parking space at the little park attached to the historic site. “The summer flew by. Think we only came here once between work and graduation.”
She smiles knowingly. “I'm glad I slowed things down. I would've missed a lot leaving for Ann Arbor too soon.”
“Yeah, you would've missed the hell out of hanging with your boyfriend.” I give her the smirk that always makes her cheeks turn red, the same with a magic power to drench her panties. “And I would've hauled my ass down to your college every other week, just to put anybody stupid enough to come sniffing around you in his place.”
“Nice save.” She smiles, just as I cut the engine on my old Ford LTD. I got the car last year on a bargain after her dad helped me fix it up, and it's served me well ever since. “Better do something about the jealous tick. You're going to have to get used to me living on my own.”
“We talked about this already,” I remind her, a low growl rising in my throat. “I'll live with it, I'll support everything you do, but I don't have to like it. You're making room for me in that little dorm whenever I come down.”
She nods, still wearing that kissable smile, squeezing my hand. “Let's go! I want to see the upper deck before the rain blows in.”
Kara isn't kidding. Perfect sun beams highlight the glorious foliage on the way in. They won't last forever, judging by the dark clouds on the horizon. We've got thirty or forty minutes before it leaves Superior and hits the shore, if we're lucky.
Plenty of time for what I've got planned.
She hugs my arm like she always does while I lead her up the narrow metal steps, high into the lighthouse. This place is a hundred years old. It'd be derelict and falling apart without the Drayton's charity, preserving the piece of history that put our town on the map before the railroads and mining left their mark.
“Just beautiful.” She releases a long, wistful breath as soon as we're at the top of the stairs on the observation deck.
The old light at the top was gutted a long time ago, leaving visitors more space to walk around and look out to sea. It's a quiet day, just like I expect. Most families are distracted, rushing their kids to school, changing gear for the seasons, too busy to take one last trip to the lighthouse before they return in a few weeks for peak fall colors.
“It always is,” I tell her, leading us to the huge glass window overlooking Superior. “We're coming back every time there's a few days to spare. Don't think either of us can live too long without these familiar waters.”
She smiles and nods. I'm dead serious about seeing her as much as I can, bringing her home on weekends. I'll drive all seven hours a thousand times if it means making the spark we've lit the last two years burn brighter.
I'm still at Bart's Auto. Earning about two extra bucks an hour than I did when I started. It's a living, enough to afford the one bedroom apartment in the duplex I'm renting on the edge of town.
Half the time, I'm too damned tired to hit my coding as hard I should when I get home aft
er work and the gym. It's a dangerous rut, threatening to spoil my dreams, one lazy evening at a time.
No, I haven't given up. I never will until I've had my day in the sun, and accomplish something great, but I've learned to pace myself. There's another reason wild riches and success don't mean as much anymore, and she's standing right next to me.
“How does it feel to be eighteen, Kara-bou?” I turn, taking her hands and staring into her big green eyes.
The sun hangs lower in the sky, slowly creeping toward the rainy horizon, casting its fragmented light all over us. Perfection, your name is Kara Lilydale. Couldn't be more obvious than it is today.
Sure, she's always beautiful, but right now, in this light, she's fucking radiant.
“It's strange. I've seen you, Matt, and so many of my friends reach the magic number. I always thought I'd be ready. Thought I'd do something special to mark it. Instead, I'm just happy to be here, living in the moment, doing the same things we always do.”
Smirking, I pull her into my arms, holding her close, running my hand slowly down her back. My fingers pass through her long blond locks. They're like silk spun gold in the Michigan sun, as vibrant and alive as the sun beams flickering out on the lake.
She doesn't have a clue what I have planned. Hell, I'm trying to believe it myself, wishing my balls would magically double in size so I can get it out.
I've never been so nervous in my life. Of course, I don't show a damned sign of it. Nothing's ruining the surprise.
“You're just excited for your presents, birthday girl,” I tease, holding her face with my hand. “Your old man's been bringing in a lot of extra business for the big day. Probably gonna buy you a new car packed to the brim with i-Everything.”
“No iPad. He's probably trying to pay for my dorm alone. Ann Arbor isn't cheap. The scholarships and loans will help a little, but there's a lot left for them to cover.” She looks at me slowly, her eyes narrowing a little. “You're the one who should be excited for tonight. It's finally happening, Ryan. Remember?”
My cock twitches hard in my jeans. Yeah, fuck, I'd have to be dead to forget.
I've been counting down the days until she became legal, crushing her beneath me during every make out session we've had the last few months. I had to keep myself on a tight leash every time she dropped another hint. Every raging instinct I have wanted me to take her then and there, but I promised to save this for today, the day I'm going to have her for all the right reasons.
“It's going to be incredible, baby,” I whisper, my hand sinking low, grazing her ass. I lean in closer, pushing my teeth against her earlobe. “You've been waiting for your birthday promise, Kara-bou, so here it is: tonight, I'm going to make you scream.”
She squirms underneath me. My woman knows I don't make empty promises, and that goes double for sex. Plus she wants it just as bad as I do, aching to seal the love we've built the most primal way possible.
After sundown, I'm taking her cherry. What starts with a kiss is going to end with me balls deep inside her, claiming her the way I've wanted since we locked lips in her bedroom years ago.
“Can we check into our room early?” she purrs, wondering about the little place I've made reservations for, just on the other end of Marquette, a short drive down the shore. “I don't know how much longer I can wait, Ryan. Seriously.”
Normally, I'd be all over that. But there's one more thing I have to do before I bring her to bed, strip her naked, and watch every beautiful inch of her moving, rippling, fucking beneath me.
I see it all. Every filthy, incredible movement I've imagined since I started bringing myself off to her several years ago.
Every dirty word. Every vicious kiss. Every moan leaving her throat, every grunt leaving mine, just before she wrings the come straight from my balls.
Fuck. If I graze her nipples now, I know they'll be hard, begging to be sucked soft.
“There's something else,” I say, fighting to control the volcanic hormones raging in my veins for just a few more minutes. “I didn't just bring you up here for a birthday sendoff, Kara.”
Her eyes go big, wondering, especially when I use her name without the pet part tacked on the end. I grab her hands, hold them in mine, so tight it almost hurt.
“Don't care if you go off to college, or Paris, or the friggin' moon. I can't live without you, babe, and I'd be a fool not to do everything I can to show you I'm serious.”
“Oh my God...” Her voice dies as I sink to my knees.
Thankfully, it only takes a second to reach into my pocket, picking out the carefully concealed box I've been carrying all day. It's taken me the entire summer to save up for the modifications with the jeweler, getting it re-sized and inscribed like I want.. As for the ring itself, I had a little help.
My thumb flicks the top open, and holds it out to her. “It's your grandmom's ring. Bart gave it to me this morning, after I told him I was going to marry you, and I wanted his permission first.”
I owe her dad big time, it's true. Especially when he's been like a father to me for years, long before he's becoming my father-in-law.
Those beautiful breasts I can't wait to pillage bob on her chest as her breathing quickens. For a second, I'm afraid I've made a huge mistake, and she's going to say no.
Grabbing her hand, I grip it in mine, bringing it closer to the ring. “Look, I know we're young. I know this is sudden. Most people our age are focused on school, or figuring out what club they're going to hit the next night, and who their next fling is going to be. I don't care about any of that. The day I met you, Kara-bou, I knew you were mine. We're young, and people will bitch, but I don't care what they think. Fuck the crowd. I'm spending my life with you, love, every single day I can. By this time next year, I want to be planning our wedding, assuming you say you'll marry me.” I'm rattling on like a fool, so I shut up and look at her, lacing my fingers tighter in hers. “Will you, baby?”
She answers me by falling down on her knees so hard the bang of bone on metal echoes through the lighthouse. I've seen her speechless before a hundred times, but she always gives me an answer.
This time, it's the best wordless reply I've ever heard. She jumps me, snatching at the ring with her free hand, bringing her hot little mouth to mine.
We kiss for eons, rolling around in the lighthouse, lost in each other for so long it's dark and raining by the time we finally stop for air. If it wasn't for the risk of retirees or oddball travelers popping in, interrupting our privacy, I'd take her here on the floor, having our first time overlooking the cool, choppy waves below.
“I love you, Ryan Caspian. I can't wait to be your wife.”
Shit. She's serious.
The prettiest girl in town just said yes. It's the first time one of my crazy plans worked. Means so much I don't care if it ever happens again.
It's my turn to be speechless. She's just told me the best thing a man can hear. I'm only twenty, not even old enough to drink, but I know it's true. Know it every time my heart beats a little harder, staring at my new fiancee, imagining how hot she's going to look dressed up in white, coming toward me at the altar.
“Love you, Kara-bou, and it's getting stronger every day. I'm never letting go. Don't care if the sky breaks open and spills everything it's got on our heads. We're meant to be together,” I say, my voice deepening an octave, pulling her closer in my arms. “A lot can happen when you get married as young as us. I'm ready, and I know you are too. Long as we remember everything we said here today, everything we promised, we'll make it. No doubt. I promise, babe, you're mine forever.”
“I promise, too.” It's the last little sound she makes before I wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks with my lips.
“Turn it over. Look inside,” I say, clasping the ring in her hand with mine, bringing it up to our faces.
Always, my love. Always, always, always.
I agonized over the text for weeks. Then I realized there was only one word fit for telling her how I rea
lly feel, one that won't ever change, no matter what the universe throws our way.
Overwhelmed, she leans in, kissing me again. Her mouth tastes hot, wet, desperate. I love it, every single brush of her lips on mine, our oneness overflowing in every sticky fusion.
My fingers cup her face, pulling her into me, dancing across the tiny scar she has from a gym class mishap a year ago. They were playing golf, and her friend, Zoe, wound up her swing too much. One blow to the face later, she's marked forever. I remember Bart bringing his little girl home from the emergency room, while Matt and I scrambled to help with ice.
I held the pack against her face while the stitches set. Many months later, it's healed nicely. The kind of perfectly imperfect scar that gives a man one more thing to fall in love with.
We kiss for another five minutes, her on my lap, the sun peeking out one more time through the rain to salute us. Then we're heading downstairs, walking through the cold, wet bullets to my car.
Hand-in-hand, we're engaged. And we're about to make this official at our hotel, loving each other in ways far more exciting than gold and diamonds will ever be.
Two hours later, she's laid out on top of the sheets. Naked as the day she was born, and goddamned beautiful.
My cock doesn't need more than a second to turn into granite. Never does when her hands or mouth are anywhere near it, really. Except today, a charging bull couldn't knock down the hard-on pulsing between my legs.
I let her undress me before she laid down. Her little hands rolled up my shirt, undid my belt, and pushed down my jeans.
She gasped when she saw the new tattoos lining my shoulders, falling down my back like flaming swords. It's ink I've been slowly expanding whenever I have a little extra money. I love the fire because it reminds me to keep everything I've worked for burning bright on the tinder of my past.