Page 46 of We Are the Stars

It’s as he described before: euphoric. It’s so much that it’s almosttoomuch. The way his body feels against mine is…it’s too good. Too perfect. Too…everything.

Yet it’s not enough.

I urge him closer and wrap my legs around him, his hard length finding the right spot between my legs. He picks up his movements, our kiss going from languid to rushed. We’re frantically pulling at one another. His shirt flies off and a hand snakes inside my top. I gasp as he slides it inside my bra and wraps it around my breast, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

What the hell am I doing?

“Carsen…” I manage to mutter.

“Yeah?”

“We have to stop.”

“We do.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“I don’t either.”

My eyes dart to his chest and I notice the tattoo there. “What’s that mean?”

He tilts my chin up so I’m looking into his gray eyes again. They’re like they were yesterday at lunch—clear. He’s not burdened with hatred and suffering, not in this moment at least. He’s free of it, and damn if I don’t want to keep him that way.

“Everything happens for a reason.” His words are slow and steady.

I swallow thickly. “It’s written in the stars.”

He nods.

And then we’re lost in another kiss.

It feels like it happens over hours, not minutes, because it’s that good, thatright.

No. I need to stop this. It can’t feelrightand I can’t keep kissing him.

A loud knock on the door startles us apart. I rush to straighten my top and my hair as Carsen frantically searches for his shirt, throws it on, and tosses my blanket over his lap.

“You up, Smelliott?”

“Smelliott?” Carsen mouths, laughing.

I whack him with a pillow as I call out, “Come in, Fish!”

My brother pushes the door open, his mouth falling open as well once he spots Carsen on the bed with me. His eyes dart to the mess behind me and then back and forth between me and my bed partner.

He’s not stupid; he knows what was happening.

“I guess something’s up.”

Laughter flies out of me while Carsen’s face turns bright red, even his ears.

“That was so inappropriate. I think I love your brother,” he says.

Fish’s eyes fall to slits as he takes in Carsen’s words. Then, he grins, and I know all the reservations he had about Carsen go out the window. Fish is easy to read. He can feel the vibes too.

“Fish,” my brother says, walking forward with his hand outstretched.

The two shake hands. “Good to meet you. I’m Carsen, but I assume you already know who I am. Most people do.”

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