Page 45 of Where the Little Birds Go (Little Bird Duet 1)

I know I shouldn’t ask, but I do. “When you say that you’ve done stuff, do you mean…”

Palming his face, he nods. “Would it help if I told you about it? Believe me, Little Bird. It wasn’t that special. It involved drinking and the backseat of a car. Not my finer moment.”

Say no. “Yes,” slips out.

He pulls himself up to sitting, leaning against his pile of pillows. “Sabrina Christy and I were classmates at the school I attended before Lincoln. We’d both been at a party a mutual friend held and we were drunk. I fooled around with one other person before but never had sex until that night. The condom my dad made me keep in my wallet busted when I tried putting it on, she accidently elbowed me in the face when she tried climbing on top of me in the back seat, and the whole thing was rushed.

“Honestly? I didn’t really care at the time because all I could think about was that I was finally having sex. Her car was parked outside of the party so we both figured why not? Thankfully, she had a condom in her purse, but we were sloppy about the whole thing. It was awkward, Little Bird. I don’t want that sort of experience with you.”

My frown deepens. “You don’t?”

He cups my cheek. “I want it to be better. You don’t deserve some random backseat hookup. That shouldn’t be your first time.”

Heart racing, I try taking even breaths. “I just want to be good at it, but I don’t know how. What if we decide this whole more-than-friends thing isn’t for us?”

Both his brows raise. “Do you really think that’ll happ

en?”

In truth, I don’t. It’s the gut feeling that tells me we’re in for a ride. But I don’t want to admit that because it seems weird to speak aloud. We’re young. We have dreams beyond Lincoln. Nobody can be certain of what will happen weeks, months, or even a year from now.

“You’re leaving soon,” I tell him instead.

He pulls me down so our faces are close, his eyes piercing mine and jumpstarting my heart in a way nobody else has. “I’m coming back for you, Kinley. Trust me. When you’re done with high school, it’s us against the world.”

My heart pounds so hard it hurts when he nuzzles his nose against mine. Breath against my lips, it’s me who closes the distance between us to seal the feeling imbedded deep inside my chest. The first peck is quick, quicker than the one on Christmas Eve. I close my eyes and try not to think about anything other than him, than us, and his promise.

It’s him who returns the kiss and holds the back of my head to him. His lips become firmer, rougher, as they work to part mine. Yet there’s a softness to his movements—how he threads his fingers in my hair, how he holds me to him as his tongue touches mine. It sends jolts down my body until my palms find his chest and grip the t-shirt he’s wearing. Trying my best to mimic what he does, our tongues twist and taste and tangle until I pull back out of breath.

His breath still dances on my lips, his nose brushing my cheek. I rest my forehead on his and squeeze the handful of cotton I hold. His hands drop to my hips, resting without any pressure or expectation for me.

And that’s why I trust him—believe him.

“You promise?” I whisper, swallowing and letting my chest slowly rise through every bated exhale.

His fingers rub small circles over denim-clad hips. Not making another move to kiss me, he pulls me down until we’re resting side by side. One of his arms drapes around my shoulders, keeping me locked in tight. My cheek rests against his pec, my palm just above his belly button.

He says, “Promise.”

Chapter Sixteen

Corbin / Present

My hands slowly map out soft curves until my fingers meet the scratchy denim hugging a slim waist. Subconsciously, I know it’s all wrong. My fingertips should be teasing the worn elastic band of black leggings, fumbling to work past the onset of giggles from the slightest area where she’s ticklish.

“Ryker.” Her ass arches back and grinds into my front, causing my lips to nip the hollow of her neck that she exposes to me. “Not here.”

“Not here,” I repeat, popping the button and stalling on the zipper. “You say that every time we meet, Beck. We can’t get caught anymore. What are you afraid of?”

Her grip on the railing tightens, and I know the effects they’ll use to emphasize the clear night will make the scene better. Our sins are masked in darkness, but our indiscretions are highlighted by the apartment behind us that my character never should have walked into.

The breathy sound of her voice says, “Us. That’s what I’m afraid of. We aren’t simple people. We ruin everything. We’re bad.”

My lips trail down the back of her neck, causing her breath to catch. “Nothing about us has ever been simple. That’s why we work. We’re complicated. Our love is complicated. Our situation—”

She turns and shoves my shoulders, but her effort is tactless. “Our situation, Ryker? I was engaged to somebody that I thought I could love. Ian is kind, and loyal, and everything I’m not. Wearing the ring he gave me reminded me of what kind of person I am—what we are. Our situation is ugly and messy and destroying me.”

Ian’s name is meant to induce anger, the kind that bulges my veins and reddens my face. I channel everything I have in personal experience to feel what it’d be like for Ryker to witness the woman he loves more than life itself settle for someone because she doesn’t think she deserves happiness.

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