Page 29 of For Lila, Forever

Running one hand up her stomach, I slide it beneath her shirt and bra.

The softest sighs escape her lips every few seconds, and she reaches down to grab a handful of my hair before her hips rock and her body undulates before she settles into a loose, limber, and breathless version of herself.

“Holy shit.” She covers her face with both hands, breathing through her fingers. “That was …”

She sits up slightly, resting on her forearms, and she looks at me with wild eyes that flash even in the dark.

I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I mean, I’d hoped things would move in the right direction, but I had no idea that things would be moving full throttle this soon.

Not that I’m complaining.

Lila rises from the chair, nothing but a t-shirt covering her spent body, and then she lowers herself between my knees. “Your turn …”

Chapter 16

Lila

Shittttt.

My legs feel like Jell-O as I sneak back to The Hilliard Cottage. According to my watch, it’s just past ten. My grandparents usually go to bed around nine, but since I wasn’t home at nine, I’m one-hundred percent certain they’re waiting up for me.

When I invited Thayer to meet in the cottage earlier, I had no intentions of messing around. I was going to tell him to stop pursuing me.

Nothing more, nothing less.

My mom’s crazy friend always said, “Only fools make plans.”

I never understood what that meant until tonight.

I take a deep breath before heading into the house. From the porch, I can see the light is on in the living room. And the TV is flickering.

“Lila. Oh my goodness.” Grandma rises from her recliner and Grandpa mutes the TV. “Where have you been? Any longer and we were going to organize a search party.”

I hope she’s joking, but I don’t think she is.

“Just went for a walk on the shore,” I say, praying she doesn’t check my shoes for sand. “The stars are so pretty out here at night. You can see each and every one of them. I’m not used to that back home …”

Grandma studies me for a moment before sighing. She’s too tired to argue or lecture. She just wants to go to bed. I see it in her eyes.

“Next time tell someone where you’re going, okay?” she asks. “Or at least leave a note.”

“I promise,” I say before slipping my shoes off. “I’m sorry I kept you up.”

My grandfather walks up and puts his arm around me. “You’re all we’ve got, kiddo. It’s our job to worry about you. Heck, we worry about you when you’re in the next room. No more running off, okay?”

“Okay.” Guilt sinks into my bones when I think about what I was doing just mere minutes ago. I hate that I made them worry, but this just means I need to be more careful next time. “Goodnight.”

I trek down the hall to my room, closing the door behind me, and I peel out of my clothes and change into some clean pajamas before washing up.

In the bathroom, I trace my finger along my neck and collarbone, almost wishing I could feel his kisses again, though I’m sure I’ll be reliving that entire experience as soon as my head hits the pillow tonight. It’s already beginning to play in my head like a movie, and I can’t wait to do it all over again.

Still, there’s a nagging voice in the back of my mind telling me this is all too good to be true.

I guess only time will tell.

Chapter 17

Thayer

“You’re leaving early,” Westley says Friday night. The flames from the bonfire between us light his face in shades of amber, and Whitley licks roasted, melted marshmallows off her fingers. “What’s the deal?”

“It’s been a long week. Going to get to bed early tonight,” I lie. Earlier today, Lila pulled me aside and told me to meet her in the cottage around eleven tonight, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Apparently her grandparents were waiting up for her Tuesday night so she wanted to lay low for a few days, and I agreed that it was probably a wise decision.

“Ashlan wear you out?” Whitley asks with a laugh. “God, she’s so out of control around you. It’s sad, really.”

“Nah. It’s all good. See you guys in the morning,” I grab my flip-flops out of the sand and slip them on before making the journey back toward civilization, only halfway there, I double check to make sure I’m not being followed, and then I take a detour to the cottage.

When I get inside, she’s waiting for me on the sofa, her legs kicked up and an old magazine on her lap.

Her eyes light, though I can tell she’s fighting like hell to act cool.

“Hey,” she says, drawing her legs to the floor.

I take the seat beside her and we lock eyes for a moment. This past Tuesday night has played in my mind a hundred times since then and I’ve been waiting all week to have another chance to be alone with her.

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