Page 79 of From the Wreckage
He hugs me tight before nodding and climbing inside his truck.
The engine rumbles down the gravel road, dust rising in its wake. I stay on the porch until the sound fades, the silencesettling heavy around me. For the first time in years, it’s just me here. No Dad. No guardrails. Just temptation a few steps away in the cabin across the lake.
And I already know I’m not strong enough to resist.
I findhim by the lake, crouched on the dock with a coil of rope in his hands. The late sun paints everything gold, his scars glinting faintly in the light. He glances up at me, surprise flashing into something softer.
“Hey, angel.”
The endearment slides under my skin, warm and dangerous. I step onto the dock, every board creaking like it’s betraying me. “Hey.”
For a moment, we just stand there, the water lapping against the posts, the silence louder than words.
Finally, I speak. “Walk with me?”
He doesn’t hesitate. He drops the rope and falls into step beside me as we trace the shoreline.
The air smellslike pine and damp earth. Our hands brush once, twice, until finally, his fingers lace through mine. My chest squeezes so hard it hurts. It feels like something out of a dream. Something I shouldn’t want, but can’t let go of now that it’s here.
We talk about nothing and everything—books, music, whether the owls out here really are as loud as he claims. He teases me about the embarrassing story dad told him about me falling in the lake when I was twelve, and I laugh so hard my stomach aches at the memory.
For a while, it feels normal. Like we aren’t sneaking around. Like the whole world isn’t waiting to break us apart.
By the time we circle back to the dock, the sun has slipped low, bruising the water purple and gold. I don’t want the night to end. Not with Dad gone. Not when it’s just us.
I swallow hard, my nerves buzzing through me as I look at him. “Meet me here tonight?”
His eyes darken, a storm of want and guilt colliding in them. He should say no. But instead, he nods once, sharp and certain.
My pulse races as I slip my hand from his and turn toward my cabin. The boards creak again under my feet, loud in the stillness as I exit, but I don’t look back. I can’t, or I’ll never leave.
CHAPTER 55
Everett
Midnight tastesdifferent out here tonight. It’s quieter. Heavier. Every ripple of the lake carries like a warning. Every shadow looks like temptation.
I tell myself I won’t go down to the dock. That I’ll stay in my cabin, keep the lights off, and ride this out until Grayson comes home. I’ve told myself a lot of lies over the years, and this one is the easiest to break.
I’m already moving toward the dock.
Her hair spills loose around her shoulders, the hem of her sleep shirt brushing her thighs. Moonlight touches her like it belongs to her, and something inside me unravels.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I whisper, even as my body aches with relief that she is.
“Neither should you,” she shoots back softly, a tremor in her voice.
That does it. The last thread of restraint I had left snaps. I step forward, meeting her halfway on the dock. The boards groan under us as if they know they’re carrying something reckless, something doomed.
She tilts her head back, her eyes searching mine. “Everett…”
I cup her face, my rough palms trembling against her soft skin. “Angel, I can’t keep doing this.” My voice cracks, the sound raw. “Every time you show up, I swear it’ll be the last. And every time, I’m worse than before. I can’t let you go.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt, pulling me closer until her breath fans across my mouth. “Then don’t.”
I drag her against me, my mouth crashing down on hers. It’s not soft this time. It’s desperate. Hungry. Like I’ve been starving for oxygen for years and only just found air.
She melts against me, her lips parting, a soft sound escaping her throat that rips through my chest. My hands slide down her back before sliding to her ass.
