Page 20 of Close to the Edge

Beautiful? I feel wrecked.

As sensation comes back into my limbs, as my awareness sharpens once again and I notice the cold breeze and sleepy churring of birds in the branches, I don’t feel like some goddess. Mostly, I feel sticky. Self consciousness rises in a belated tide.

I should return the favor. I want to return the favor.

Jeez, I’ve thought so many times about getting my hands on this man.

But before I can reach for his belt, Ash sets me down like something precious, so gentle and respectful, then rebuttons my shorts and straightens my clothes like those sleepy birds might judge me for looking rumpled.

Oookay. Guess this was a one-way event.

“Was that…”

My question dies away on my tongue. What am I even asking? What do I want to know?

Was that worth risking my older brother’s delicate happiness? Was it everything Ash has waited decades for? Was it hot? Was it fun? Did I do anything weird? Why doesn’t he want me to touch him back?

“Thanks,” I grit out instead, patting Ash’s huge, sculpted arm. He shoots me that crooked smile in the moonlight and my chest throbs in response. “But, uh. We should get going before Rowan sends out a search party for you. Besides, it’s freaking cold already and it’s only gonna get colder.”

Before the words fully leave my mouth, Ash snatches up the borrowed blanket and drapes it around my shoulders once more. He brushes off a few dried pine needles that cling to the fabric, surprisingly delicate with those baseball mitt hands.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he says valiantly, taking my elbow to guide me back in the direction of the trail. My legs are like jelly, wobbling with every step, and the sticky, swollen mess in my underwear makes me blush crimson from head to toe. “You say the word and this shirt is yours.”

It’s not quite what I had in mind, but I can’t deny it’s a sweet offer.

Besides—my stomach cramps at the thought—I’d love something to remember Ash by.

* * *

Flint’s is busy for my shift the next day, and there’s a weird energy in the air. Folks keep slamming their glasses down on the tables too loud or bursting out in manic laughter, making their neighbors jump. It’s so hot all the windows are open, but we can’t seem to draw in a breeze.

Jana has the rental listings open on her phone but we barely get a spare minute to scroll them, and meanwhile the bikers are in, smoking and drinking in the yard in eye line of their shiny bikes.

A few pups whine whenever I walk past their owner’s tables in the summer heat, like they’re out of sorts. It’s not just the customers. I’m off today too, ever since I woke up first thing with a terrible itch under my skin.

I bounced out of bed like a toy on a spring, immediately wide awake and agitated, replaying last night over and over in my mind.

Part of me had hoped that last night’s encounter with Ash would tide me over, like some kind of vaccine inoculating me against needing any more from the gentle giant. Instead, I’m jonesing like an addict who needs another fix. I’m not suddenly immune to wanting him—in fact, now I know how it feels to be with him, this craving is a thousand times worse.

Yeah. I’ve screwed up bad.

“This is nuts,” Jana mutters after an especially rowdy group of customers walks away with their drinks, shoving each other and laughing as beer drips on the floor. “Is it a full moon tonight or something?”

“Not sure.” When I try to picture the night sky last night, all I see is Ash’s shadowed face and the hungry glint in his eyes. Fanning myself, I peer out at the busy bar. “But something’s up.”

And maybe that’s why I’m crawling out of my skin right now. Not because of Ash and what we did last night; not because I’m ready to tear out my hair and scream if he doesn’t get his hands on me again.

Because of the lunar cycle.

Yeah. Sure. Why not? Sounds legit to me.

But full moon or not, by the time my shift is over, I can’t stand this tension for another minute. Sure, I spent the last six hours lecturing myself in my head, going over all the reasons Ash and I need to keep our distance—but as soon as I step foot outside, my tired legs carry me toward the mountain instead of further into town.

Swatting midges away and squinting into the golden evening light, I stride up the mountain trail at record speed, my body humming with the need to go faster, faster.

Ash.

What if he left already? What if last night is really all I’ll ever get with him? What if I’m alone in this non-stop craving, this desperate need for more?

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