Page 108 of Tides That Bind

I’m not sure whatever Riley did before can be defined bydating. But the idea of him being intimate with someone else,being close enough to share the same pocket of air the way we just did, is another level of heartbreak I regret speaking into the universe.

Riley puts his hands on his hips. “Is that something you’re interested in? Dating?”

“Maybe.” I swear I hear the grinding of his teeth.

“Yeah, well, maybe the hell not.”

I throw my hands in the air, wishing I could toss away the frustration that has invaded my body. “What do youwantfrom me, Riley? Because I want you, alright? And I thought I’d sooner die than ever say that. But here I am.”

I want you to want me, I nearly cry.I want you to tell me that it’s okay to want and need you that way.

His mouth opens but closes, his jaw shaking.

But I’m only met with silence and what fight can I put up? We do this together or we don’t do it at all. And if Riley won’t—if hecan’t—neither can I.

I step around him toward the house, but he reaches out and keeps me in place. His hand on my wrist, it makes my heart skip a beat. And with his thumb pressed against my pulse, IknowRiley feels it.

But he just shakes his head, and I’ve had enough. I twist my arm out of his grasp and continue walking, my eyes focused on the back door I want to lock but won’t.

I tell myself locking Riley out of my heart will have to be enough, and I repeat that with each purposeful step. That is, until Riley grabs me when I least expect it, and this time he doesn’t hold me at a distance. This time he crushes me to him.

“Fuck it.”

Riley steals the breath I don’t have time to finish taking with his mouth. He kisses me so hard and deep I lose all sense of which way is up and down. But it doesn’t matter. Riley holds me in place in a pocket of space and time where our gripping and nipping of each other, our tongues twisting makes total sense.

In this moment, the world stops. The grief that grounded ustogether doesn’t exist. Who we were before will never be as important as who we are now—two people who don’t just want each other but need each other too.

My back collides with the edge of the banister and Riley makes no apologies. He only presses me against it harder, the warmth and swell of his lap against me pulls a mewl from of my gut and panting satisfaction from Riley.

This first kiss is something of the extraordinary kind, the sort of kiss that makes it impossible to believe it’s the only time our lips have touched, that my fingers have never wound themselves through his hair, loosening his tresses from his bun. We move like it’s natural. And it is natural for us, the way our tongues fight each other before going in for more, streaks of harshness followed by a milder, gentle sweep.

True to form, I can’t stand the way Riley kisses because I can’t stand how good it feels, how with each breath he peels back a layer of myself until he finds the part of me that’s his to claim.

Riley scoops me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I don’t know where we’re headed or what we’re doing, but I find myself floating safely in Riley’s hands. We move up the stairs before I land in his lap with a bump, but I don’t mind. I’ll take the bump if it means more of a bite—Riley’s bite. I moan when his teeth, tongue and lips trail from my mouth and down my neck and clutch his back when he laps at my racing pulse, nipping at the beat of my heart.

The bites are gentle but still hold a kick. They’re a claim, just like the way his hands over my ass, pulling me closer to him. And even though we both moan when I rock against his hard length, his hands still sweep softly over me, as if I’m a gift he’s vowing to cherish and hold on to.

“Tell me it’s not wrong,” he whispers into my skin, rocking his hips up and into me. The move draws a primal groan from my mouth and the noise must only entice him more because he grinds his arousal into me so hard it now leaves me whimpering. “Tell me how bad I fucking want you, how bad I need you isn’t wrong.”

I can’t find my voice to answer.

“Harper, tell me...”

Riley’s voice breaks before the rest of his words are lost in my neck just as they should be. Because he’s looking for the kind of approval that will never come. It’s a wasted request meant for someone who exited stage right far too soon, leaving us holding together the plot in the middle of the second act.

I taste the sense of betrayal seeping from Riley’s skin, escaping with every tremble of his body. I let my lips linger against his forehead while his head stays buried in the crook of my neck.

“Maybe this isourmiddle. We’re the magic,” I whisper and Riley’s anguished breathing slows into a soothing lullaby that nearly brings my eyes shut.

But I’m so happy it doesn’t. I’m so happy my eyes are wide open when Riley lifts his head and looks at me. He cups my cheek again, his touch no longer hurried, rushed and harsh like when our lips first met.

There’s need and desire behind his lips now only muted by a cautious carefulness that leaves me full of a different kind of heat—a soft, hopeful warmth that we’re going to figure it all out.

I move my mouth in a similar dance and I hope my words don’t tell Rileythis isn’t wrong, but insteadthis is so right.

When I feel the flex of his jaw and the widening of his lips into a smile, I know he hears it even though I didn’t say it. Because this kiss isn’t like before.

This kiss feels like we’re starting something new.

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