Page 2 of The Hardest Part

The absolute love.

The purest joy.

Jake’s greatest fear was that with the ever-changing world outside their gates, they could lose favor, their culture, traditions, and their land. The community everyone worked so hard to build for nearly two hundred years. But with full knowledge and understanding of their past, his generation and those who came after them would do everything in their power to protect what they shared here. And that’s why his work was so important.

Smiling to himself, his fingertips traced over the worn leather cover of Levi Gantry’s journal. Fortunately for Jake, writing things down was commonplace then. It made his job easier.So many stories.Detailed and vibrant, the past came alive on the pages.

He loved all the Brookside stories and treasured every last one, but there were two he held especially dear to his heart, though one had yet to be written.

The story of Levi, the bluebird, and the butterfly.

And the greatest love story of all.

His own.

His kiss was everything.

The taste of a crisp fall apple on his tongue, tart and sweet, he held her face in his hands, thumbs caressing her cheeks, and took her lips with his. Emily loved how Billy kissed her, the way he made her feel. Beautiful. Worshipped. Adored. His mouth on hers soothed like a warm summer rain while fireflies twirled in her belly.

She recalled the first time Billy got up the nerve to kiss her finally—a real one, and not some misplaced peck on the cheek, though it kind of started that way. The month after her sixteenth birthday, at the community cookout Brookside held every year during the last weekend of May, he took her for a walk. They sat together on the grass alongside the stream, sharing a glass of Grams’ fresh-squeezed lemonade.

“This is nice,” Billy said, plucking at the tender green blades between them. He seemed nervous. “Just me and you.”

With the straw between her teeth, Emily smiled into her lemonade and took a sip. “I think so too.”

“Do you wanna go to the bonfire tonight?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Her hair lifted in the breeze, a piece of it sticking to her lip. “Shiloh and Griffin said they’re going.”

“I know.” Looking down at her mouth, Billy freed the strand. His head dipped, lips ghosting along her jaw. “I’ve been dyin’ to kiss you, Em.”

Do it, then.

She’d only been waiting for what felt like forever.

Playmates from the time they were toddlers, Billy was her best friend, and Emily his. Though they hadn’t made an official announcement or anything yet at the time, even then it was already a foregone conclusion they’d end up together at the stones.

“Can I?”

Turning her face toward his, Emily nodded as Billy’s mouth connected with her cheek. Threading his fingers in her long, brown waves, with the brim of his hat shielding them from the glare of the afternoon sun, he lowered his lips to hers and the fireflies took flight.

And they’d been flying ever since.

Even now, more than a year and thousands of kisses later, they had that effect on her. Maybe it’s because Billy was the first boy, and the only boy, who’d ever kissed her. Maybe it was because she loved him so much.

So, on this cool, blue Sunday morning in November, Emily lay with Billy in the field behind the converted Dutch barn she lived in with her mother, pulling him closer. Loving the feeling of his belt buckle digging into her skin as he pressed his hardness into her softness through their clothes.

If she positioned herself just right, the center seam of her jeans would rub on her clit and give her enough friction to come.

“Let me use my fingers, Em.”

God, she wanted him to. Billy’s fingers were magic.

“My mom is home.”

“But I wanna make you come.” Reaching for her nipples, his hands slid beneath her sweater.

Then she heard the patio door slide open.

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