Page 88 of The Casualty of Us
I know immediately that he’s talking about something else too.
About whatever is left of what could have been us at this point.
And the broken eggshells we’ve been so carefully tiptoeing around for the past couple of months and all those almost moments have my brows falling fast. Completely unsettled by the idea of letting him go for a whole summer while still being in this place.
“What deal?” I whisper.
“That’s my secret for now.” His fingers lift to run across my brow, smoothing the scowl just as thunder rumbles through the room. “What I would give for a peek into that head of yours.”
The storm finally closing in— “I don’t think you’d like it.”
“Why?”
“Because you think I’m better than I actually am.”
His fingers freeze and my stomach flips, reminding me of exactly why I’ve avoided him. Because this close with a couple of strands of black falling across his brow…I can almost pretend. “Icanjustify anything, Hayes, that’s my problem. I had to ask to be reminded of the pangolin to not turn into the same kind of monsters I’d just left.”
His fingers lift. “Freckles—”
“Kiss me.”
Everything stops as the demand slips past my lips, his hand pausing halfway through the air with his eyes locked on mine.
“Ophel—”
“Kiss me,” I whisper, heart picking up pace in my chest again. “No last year. No next year. Just right here.”
For it to feel right for just a second again.
His fingers flex midair. “Freckles…I didn’t come h—”
“I won’t ask again,” I warn him softly, my voice coming out hushed and stomach caught up in a riot as I stand on the edge. “Last chance.”
His eyes drop to my lips, staying there as lightning flickers through the room like whatever god he believes in is on my side, and it’s barely a split second later that the hazel is rising back up with that intensity blazing in it.
“Fuck it.”
The hand hovering in the air reaches past my head, and it only takes one more heartbeat for his lips to find mine, everything in me stilling as the contact steals whatever remaining sanity I have.
Oh, fuck.
My eyes fall shut at that first brush of his lips against mine, feathering over the top with a barely there touch before he pulls at the bottom one gently. Pressing his body against mine and rolling me back to settle us together as his other hand slides against my cheek. His thumb brushes back and forth in time with the second little pull of my bottom lip right before his tongue slides against the seam of my lips and I gasp. My body finally shocked back into playing catch-up and granting him entry with that cedar scent suddenly everywhere.
Another gasp catches in my throat when his tongue meets mine, and I lift a hand to his shoulder, needing something to hold on to. Every little place his skin is touching mine suddenly buzzes with life, leaving me shaking as I reach for his hair with my other hand. Giving in with a sigh as my fingers wind through the black silk there and sliding my tongue back against his finally. Tossing myself eagerly into the abyss as everything that’s been missing falls into place like we’re our own form of mathematical perfection.
A golden ratio I’ve never been curious enough to explore until now.
A soft groan passes from his lips to mine, and he bites down on my lower lip, making me tug on his hair and loving when he makes the sound again.
Relief washing over me that he’s right there with me.
As powerless to this as I am.
I drop my hand from his shoulder to the bottom of his shirt, grabbing for it blindly and feeling his abs twitch against my fingers when I make contact with the skin there. His fingers drop down to my jaw, and he tilts my head, immediately deepening the kiss as my fingers run up his side. Only knowing that I need more of this because everything about it feels right with him.
Every breath that passes between us. Every brush of our lips. The way his skin feels hot against mine and the way he groans when I pull on his hair.
The way I can feel some part of me finally giving. Letting that wall crack as some part of him that science can’t name yet tries to wrap itself around me. Digging deep as our atoms vibrate against each other like they’re desperately trying to break through the skin. How the taste of something woodsy and vanilla that I’m never going to be able to get out of my head is filling my mouth. How the pull of something low and warm is pushing me to never stop doing exactly this with him.
