Page 123 of Past the Broken Bridges

He helps me set a pace, showing me what to do from the position I’m new to. Not controlling but giving me everything I need to take the moment.

And I take it. Because I need it. Need him. Need this. I need this to last. To savor it. To enjoy it, knowing it’s bound to end. Every touch sets me on fire, and every murmured word between hungry kisses fuels it.

When I lean down to kiss him, he presses me against his chest and meets my hips to go deeper. The full feeling still offers a bite of pain, but nothing that his gentle touches along my body can’t distract me from. His tongue grazes mine, tasting me, testing me the same way his fingers are as they tease the sensitive spot above the apex of my thighs.

My stomach tightens as he plays with me, causing my movements to become jerky and uneven above him, which Banks doesn’t seem to mind at all. He simply holds me against him with one arm around my waist and pumps his hips up again and again and again until—

The noise he makes as he buries his head into the crook of my neck causes stars to burst in my eyes. Head tilting back, I can feel him twitching inside me as our harsh breathing mixes in the otherwise silence of the steamy truck cab.

I stay like that for what feels like forever, not wanting to move. Not wanting to let go.

Let go, let go, let go.

My heart starts thundering for reasons outside what we’ve just done, remembering what I told his father, the words echoing like I yelled them into a tunnel until they’re deafening.

Eventually, I pull away to see him staring at where we’re still connected. “I didn’t use protection.”

I stroke his face, hoping to comfort him. The last thingwe have to worry about is a child, but I don’t bother with that reassurance. “It’s fine.”

“You’re on…?”

I nod, suddenly grateful for all those talks Mom forced me to have.

At least it doesn’t make me a liar.

This time.

“If driving lessons end like this every time, we should schedule one again soon,” he muses as the two of us put ourselves back together.

Biting my lip, I buckle into the passenger seat as he opens the windows to clear the steam. I’m lost in thought, leaning against the glass when he says, “Go out with me.”

My ears ring as I keep my face turned away.

If you can’t love him the way he deserves, the best thing you can do is let him go.

Slowly, I turn to him and say the only thing that I can. The only thing that’s fair to him.

I say, “No.”

“Birdie?”

“Take me home,” I whisper, unable to meet his eyes. It’s the choked “Please” that makes him put the truck into drive after a long, tense moment.

We’re a few minutes down the road when he breaks the tense silence. “Whatever it is, we can figure it out.”

That’s the thing. We can’t. “You’re going to ruin everything,” I whisper.

The truck slows. “What are you talking about?”

I can’t look at him. Not if I’m going to get through this. “We said casual. That was all I wanted.”

He’s quiet. Too quiet. Then, “You’re serious.”

Did he think I was kidding? “You said you liked thesimplicity of casual. There were no expectations. It was easy. I need easy.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

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