“Say it.”
“I’m a—”
“Say mom, and I’m going to just agree with you. Yes, you’re a mom, but you’re also a damn beautiful woman. You’re a human. You have feelings, and sometimes shit is the only way to express them, so, what’s it going to be?”
She looked away and then back at me with a small smile. “Shit.”
“Shit.” I echoed. “I think you just gave me a semi with that aggression.”
She chucked a marshmallow at my face.
I caught it. “Fast reflexes, but that too was just as sexy. Do you even know how to go back into mom-mode now that you’ve gone to the dark side?”
“Dark side, huh?” She threw another marshmallow and then another until I was getting pelted by them. “I’ll show you dark; you spoiled rockstar.”
“Ouch!” I yelped when one hit me in the cheek, and then I dove behind a chair. “You’re a monster! Stop wasting food!”
She burst out laughing. “Then stop teasing!”
My heart swelled at the sound of her laugh. “Never, little girl, never.”
There was a ceasefire of marshmallows. Was I safe?
I peeked around the chair only to see two gorgeous tan legs staring right back at me. “Shit.” I meant it this time. “On a scale of one to ten, how offended would you be if I asked you to just wrap those legs around my face?”
“And strangle you?”
“Sweet death, take me,” I growled and then reached for her.
She jumped back.
And I chased.
I realized I would always chase her.
“Think you’re fast enough to catch me?” she teased as she slowed down, clearly wanting me to do exactly that.
I didn’t hesitate as I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her flush against my side and then down to the blankets we’d set up near the fire.
I nuzzled her neck for a few seconds and just existed in that moment, loving that she didn’t tense or ask for an explanation for why I needed her.
She was just there.
She didn’t have to say any words.
I just needed her to exist in that moment.
I just needed her to breathe me in, while I rested in her.
“Tell me…” She tried again. “…about the song.”
I sobered and pulled away, craving a cigarette, a drink, anything to put in my hands or my mouth so I wouldn’t fixate on this sick feeling in my chest; it burned from the inside out only to repeat itself every single time the lyrics poured out. “You know experts say that music and smell hold the most memories?”
“I can see that.”
“Well,” I continued, “that song holds all the bad ones, all the shitty ones actually. I can’t sing it without all those things flashing through my head, and it tends to mess me up a lot, but it’s so popular that it’s always the go-to for people when we’re around.”
“That has to suck,” she whispered.
“You should probably make it better…” I smiled, but I wasn’t feeling it. I was all done with the fake smiles, and I found I couldn’t do it with her, not now, maybe not ever.
“Do you have it on your phone?”
“Have what?”
“The song,” she asked. “Do you have the track on your phone?”
“Yeah…” I frowned. “Where are you going with this?” And why the hell were my palms suddenly sweaty as if I was about to ask my crush to skate during junior high skate night?
She held out her hand.
I hesitated, then unlocked my iPhone and handed it to her. Hell, I rarely even let my best friends touch my phone; it was intimate in a way she couldn’t possibly understand. Like standing on stage naked or bending over for the good doc.
She opened up my music app. “Easiest way to replace the bad, Drew? You fill it with the good.”
Was it my imagination, or were her hands shaking?
“And how the hell am I going to accomplish that?” I muttered under my breath, irritated with my own crap attitude.
She didn’t hesitate, just pressed play. The first few notes had my body straining to run as far away as possible. Every muscle flexed, my jaw clicked shut as if I was afraid if I opened it, an ear-piercing scream would erupt and scare the entire town of Seaside.
She set the phone down, then trailed a delicate hand up and down my arm.
I focused on her pretty fingertips, and how they were painted a pale pink, I hadn’t noticed before.
Her hands looked safe.
They felt even better.
I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, and then my body was straining in an entirely different way as she moved toward me and straddled my legs.
Her movements weren’t fluid; they were frigid as if she was questioning what she was doing even as she was doing it.
“Damn,” I hissed, reaching for her, greedy to touch her smooth skin. “I’m rarely surprised.”
“Is that what you are now?” She smiled shyly.
I gripped her ass. “Among other things…”
I held my breath, and she leaned down. Her hair smelled like coconut as it grazed my face. And then her mouth was on mine. It was a soft kiss, something that made me forget about the shitty song and encouraged me to hold on to her just a little bit longer.
I was officially lost.
Not to the bad memories.
Not to the music.
But to Bronte.
I fell in that moment, stumbled into this dark hole of need. I dug my fingers into her ass, holding her close, and I drank my fill of her mouth. I let out a groan when her tongue invaded my mouth, lying to myself, that this week, these fleeting moments, these kisses, would be enough to satisfy the hunger in my dark, broken soul.
But even my demons didn’t believe it as my heart whispered its need to finally be free.
CHAPTER 8
Bronte
I was surprised how good he tasted, how clean, how rich and heady it felt to have our mouths fused together.
His hands were almost painful in the way they held my body prisoner as if he was afraid any minute I was going to
