Page 73 of The County Fair Queen

I glared at him. "Cheery-fucking-O. Now shut up and fuck me."

And that's just what he did. Every push was an epiphany. Every thrust, a declaration. And I saw him, truly. The boy he was. The man he became. Everything we ever were, and all we could have been. In that moment, with his fingers tracing areas I'd kept hidden for years, he made me his, handling me with care until I couldn't stand it.

After one particularly rough thrust, I gasped, and he stopped moving. He stared at me, studying my face. "Did I hurt you?"

"So good." I dug my nails into his back and guided him to my lips. When his tongue touched mine, it seemed to put him at ease, and he rolled his hips slowly, driving himself into me.

"God, you're tight," he said, his wrapping around me, stroking in time with his thrusts. "So good for me, baby."

"Fuck me," I rasped, trying to match his rhythm. My pleas fell like rain against the river. Words like"Rivers, please."And,"Harder."And,"Need you."And,"Faster."And,"More. More-God-more."They collided against the surface as pressure mounted in my spine. Our lips clashed like untrained dancers, each of us out of rhythm and coming in at awkward angles. Eventually, when we found our groove, it was everything I needed it to be. Tongue. Teeth. Saliva. His fingers in my hair. My hands against his ass, guiding him toward completion.

He cried out when he came—a wild, ferocious sound that seemed to shake the walls around us. Somewhere along the way, a picture had fallen from my nightstand, causing the class to shatter and wood to splinter off every which way.

When it was done, as we lay there in the half-light, when the sun and the stars met at the edge of the world, I told him, "I could have loved you, Rivers."

He smiled at me, bright, through sleepy eyes. I held him as long as I could, well after sleep had claimed him, listening as he breathed. In and out, in and out. And as he slept—as he mumbled incoherently beneath his breath—he whispered one quiet declaration that was mine to keep.

"I love you too, Firecracker."

Chapter Eighteen

TALLULAH REGIONAL AIRPORT REDUX

It was almost dawn when Preston knocked on my door. He peeked through the crack, unsurprised to find Rivers' body tangled with mine. It was almost like he'd expected it. Like it was the natural order of things.

"I'm ready when you are, kid."

I thought of waking Rivers to say goodbye, but decided against it. What we'd had in two short weeks was enough to last us a lifetime. Instead, I kissed his forehead, whispering out my thanks for allowing this. For wanting to know me. For letting me know him.

Downstairs, I crept through the foyer, trying to avoid waking Beau, who we'd left sleeping on the couch when we arrived. That plan was shot straight to Hell when my knee banged against something, and a kid's cry echoed out from in front of me.

"Why'd you go and do that for?" Beau asked, sitting in front of the door, rubbing his knee. “You didn’t have to run into me, forgosh’s sake. You gotta watch where you're going. Good grief, you could've broke my dang neck."

"Sorry," I said, chuckling as I knelt beside him. "Hey, little guy."

"You're really leaving?" There was a hint of hurt in his voice. A small, sharp little sound that sliced away at me. I opened my mouth to answer, but all that left me was an exhale. So, when the words failed me, I wrapped him up in my arms and clung to him, kissing his temple. "You won't forget about me, will you?"

"How could I forget you, Mr. President?"

His nails dug deeply into my back, and his shoulders shook a little. "Just the Tallulah chapter."

"That's the only chapter that matters."

The sound of Preston's keys jangling pulled me out of the moment, back to reality. I tried to stand, but Beau's grip just tightened around me.

"Just a little longer, Phillip," he insisted.

"You take care of Fudge, okay?" I said, not wanting to let go of him, either.

"Yeah." He nodded, rubbing his nose against my shirt. I didn't mind that it left a disgusting trail of goop in its wake. Okay, maybe I minded a little, but I knew I could just change in the truck. "And you take care of Mr. Papadopoulos. I know you think he's a naughty boy, but his heart is in the right place. So, you gotta stop calling him a murderer, okay? It'll make him sad."

"I swear," I said, kissing his forehead. "No more name-calling. Scout's honor."

"And you'll come back and visit?"

"All the time." The words were out before they'd even registered, and I knew that going forward, I'd be making more trips back to the city that let me go. The city that scooped me back up in its big, strong arms when I returned. I'd made apromise to a boy, and it was one I had to keep. One Iwantedto keep.

"I love you, Phillip," he said, and I had to swallow a sob.

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