Page 115 of Until August
“You still have it?”
“I found it in the boxes of stuff Nash kept for me while I was locked up. He’s sentimental. Can’t part with anything.”
I thought that it was August who was sentimental. How many guys would remember the t-shirt they’d worn when they kissed a girl sixteen years ago?
“Here. Try these.” He plucked a chicken wing out of the container and leaned forward, holding it to my lips. With my eyes on him, I tasted the chicken wing, moaned, snatched it out of his hand, and devoured it. “This is so good,” I said around a mouthful. “Did David and Kristen give you their recipe?”
He shook his head and watched in amusement as I devoured another wing, then licked the sauce off my fingers. “I just guessed.”
“Well, congratulations.” I grinned at him. “You nailed it.”
“That’s what I’m hoping,” he said with a wink.
I laughed again, and then I remembered why he did all this. “I’m sorry I barged in on you today. I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just want good things for you.” I was botching this apology, but he saved me from having to say more.
“You have nothing to apologize for. That was all on me. I was just….” He blew air out his cheeks and looked up at the sky. “Sometimes it’s hard, you know? Finding your place in the world when it feels like life went on without you.”
I let those words sink in and burrow deep. Our situations were different, but we were both trying to find our place in the world and figure out who we were now.
It felt like our lives could be split in two. The Before. And the After.
I got to my knees and scooted over to him, beer in hand, my heart on my sleeve, and sat right beside him.
I just wanted to be close. Breathe him in. Let him know that he wasn’t alone.
He slung an arm around my shoulder and fed me slices of mango. I licked the sweet juice off his fingers, eliciting a groan from him that shot straight to my core.
God, I was so easy. All he had to do was groan, and I was wet for him.
My garage light had gone off, plunging us into near-darkness, and we shared our midnight snack under the stars.
There was something magical about the night, and maybe August was right. Together we could create magic.
After I’d eaten my fill, I grabbed his face and kissed his lips. Our tongues tangled, and he pulled me into his lap so I was straddling him.
“Have you ever had sex in the back of a pickup?” he asked.
“Never.” I curled my fingers around the back of his neck and rolled my hips. “Do you want to show me how it’s done?”
Before the words were even out, I was flat on my back with August kneeling over me. With a laugh, I grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down to me. “You’re bad.”
His teeth grazed my bottom lip, and he nipped it playfully. “You love it when I’m bad.”
I did. And as it turned out, I loved al fresco sex in the back of his pickup too.
CHAPTERFORTY
August
A coupleof weeks into Operation Fun, my phone rang and woke me. Nicola was pressed against me, her body fitting perfectly into the curve of mine, my arm draped over her middle. Careful not to wake her, I untangled my limbs from hers, rolled onto my back, and fumbled for my phone to silence it. I snatched it off my bedside table as it buzzed with a text.
What the hell? It was only seven thirty in the morning, and Ari had already sent four messages telling me the same thing. Jonathan Kessler published the review. No details of whether the review would plunge Nicola into depression or leave her flying high.
I checked on Nicola and confirmed she was still fast asleep before I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. Unlike me, who woke up at the slightest noise, a freight train could race through the apartment, and she’d sleep right through it.
I grabbed my shorts from the floor and crept out of the bedroom, softly closing the door behind me.
Last week, I painted the walls white and replaced the blinds in the bedroom. I also bought a few plants and some flat-pack furniture from IKEA. Nothing fancy, but it felt slightly homier and less like a prison cell.
