Page 65 of Praying for Rain

Even if forever is only for tonight.

“I fucking love you,” he says with that perfect smile just before it crashes against mine.

I let go of the ladder and wrap my arms around Wes’s neck, knowing without a shred of doubt that he won’t let me fall. What I don’t expect is for him to grab the backs of my thighs and wrap them around his waist in the process. It’s fitting that I’m no longer attached to the earth because that’s how I feel whenever I kiss Wes—supported, secure, suspended above my problems.

His tongue and teeth aren’t gentle as they take what they want, and neither is his body as it presses mine against the ladder. Desperation fuels us as we bite and suck and push and pull. We have so much lost time to make up for and so little of it left to spare. April 23 is almost over, and every heartbeat that pumps through my veins is another second I’ve wasted not making love to this man.

I lock my ankles behind Wes’s back as he reaches over my head to grab the ladder. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hold on tight as he begins to climb, never once breaking our kiss. As soon as Wes reaches the top, we become a blur of hands and zippers and shirts and skin.

I lift my ass off the plywood floor as Wes shimmies my pants and panties off. Then, I part my knees for him as he frees himself from his jeans. As he climbs over me, I reach for him, desperate for him to fill me—to make me whole again—but Wes stills and gazes down at me instead.

“What is it?” I ask, reaching up to cup his stubbled cheek.

Two deep lines have formed between his dark eyebrows. I feel mine do the same.

“Nothing. I just … wanted to look at you …”

One last time, his sad smile says.

I don’t want to see that look, so I kiss it away as I lift my hips to let him in.

But something happens as soon as Wes and I are joined. All that time that felt like it was slipping away? It doesn’t just slow down. It stops. We inhale. We exhale. We kiss. We connect. And when we finally start moving again, it’s with the lazy grace of melting ice cream.

Because that’s all we are.

Something to be savored before it disappears.

Wes

“This is so nice.” Rain sighs as she rests her head on my shoulder.

The Franklin Springs Cinema wasn’t exactly hard to break into. Now, figuring out how to work the projector, that took a minute.

“I would have taken you to dinner too, but I can’t exactly afford to pay sixty-eight bucks for an Apocasized King Meal right now.”

Rain giggles and pats the cardboard bucket in her lap. “I’d rather eat stale popcorn for the rest of my life than step foot in that place again.”

“That’s good because it might come down to that.” I smile and kiss the top of her head.

It feels so fucking weird, being on a date with this girl. I mean, I’ve dated lots of girls, but it was always an exchange. An understood transaction. With Rain, I just … want to make her happy.

“Aquaman?” she asks as the opening credits begin to roll.

“What? It was that or Dumbo.”

A flirty grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. “I’m not complaining.”

“Oh, really? You gotta thing for Jason Momoa, huh?”

“No.” She drops her eyes, and I can see the blush rising to her cheeks, even in the darkened auditorium. “But I might have a thing for another guy with tattoos.”

“I fucking hope so,” I say, pulling her into my lap as her squeals compete with the booming speakers.

When I glance back at the screen, Jason Momoa is carrying a rescued fisherman into a bar. The camera pans from a table full of fishermen to the counter where he’s ordering a shot of whiskey. The movement is so fluid, so fast, that I almost miss it, but I swear, on the wall of the bar, I saw a red banner with a black horseman on it.

“Did you see that?” I ask without taking my eyes off the screen.

“See what?”

---