Page 89 of Fourth Wheel
Although I’d usually be wiggling and thrusting to get him where I want him, tonight, I’m more than happy to lie here with him and just let him hold me.
He draws little circles on my skin.
I caress up and down his arms and his thighs.
Our touches are constant, our need to reconnect intoxicating. Every point of contact sparks a sense of familiarity in me. Every caress feels like the comfort of coming home.
“You got me through the last ten days, Maddie,” he confesses against my skin as he trails kisses along my shoulder. “Your texts. Our phone calls. The videos you sent to my brother. Every time things felt too heavy or stressful or hard, I reminded myself there was a light at the end of the tunnel. That light was you.
“You’re my hope. You’re my courage. You’re my sunshine, ever-present and driving me forward, even on the darkest of days.”
A lump forms in my throat as I tremble at his words. Not because I don’t want to hear them, but because they mirror my own truth.
Rather than replying, I turn my head and catch his mouth in a kiss, pouring every emotion and confession I’m too chicken to give voice to into my kiss.
I kiss him until we’re both breathless. And even then, it’s not enough. I kiss him as I collect myself, painfully reminding my heart that this is almost over. I kiss him, and I swear I feel his soul fuse to mine.
I just pray it’s not welded too tightly. Because in less than ten days, I’m gone. And I can’t stand the idea of causing him any more pain.
Chapter 47
Dempsey
Ireachforher,but she’s not there. I brush my arm down her side of the bed but come up empty. Panicked, I check the bathroom, then the balcony. Finally, I grab for my phone and send her a text. She wouldn’t leave while I was sleeping, would she?
It’s already nine. I slept deeper and longer last night than I have in almost two weeks. She has that effect on me. Everything is easier when she’s here.
I jog down the stairs and scowl at my phone, willing her to respond so I know she’s okay. But about halfway down, my ears pick up on something. I slow my pace and strain to make out what they’re saying, smiling to myself as their voices carry down the hall.
They’re blasting some pop song I don’t know. Fielding belts out the chorus as Maddie heckles him. I can hear dishes being discarded in the sink and the rattle of the silverware drawer opening and closing.
“Okay, but if I remember dancing to this in middle school, you were probably in college when it first came out. I stand by my claim: it’s embarrassing you know the words to this song.”
“How dare you judge me, Little Wheeler? Miley Cyrus is an American institution. Her godmother is Dolly Parton. They’re both national treasures!”
They haven’t noticed me yet. They’re too busy bickering while Maddie fries what smells like bacon on the stove and my brother mans the waffle iron.
I clear my throat when I reach the island. “Good morning.”
Her eyes light up and she skips over to me the second she sees me, and damn, if that doesn’t make me feel good.
“Good morning,” she croons as she rises up on tiptoes and wraps her arms around my neck. Her hair’s piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she’s fresh faced so I can see the freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I did. I always sleep well when you’re next to me.” I kiss the tip of her nose and close my eyes, determined to commit this moment to memory.
She’s here. I’m happy. And right now, our only concern is what toppings we want on our waffles. Ineedmore of these moments with her. I can’t stop the words that tumble out of my mouth without thought.
“Will you stay?” I whisper in her ear, my voice thin and more desperate than I intended. I can’t imagine spending a single second away from her between now and when she goes back to California.
Her eyes are wide and questioning when I meet her gaze, and it takes a few seconds of awkward silence to realize she needs context for my question.
“Until you have to go back to California,” I clarify. “Will you stay here at the house with us?”
Her expression softens, and she nods. “I’ll stay,” she vows, rising back up on her tiptoes to reach my lips and kiss me again.
“Thank you,” I breathe out. “I can take you by your house later today and help you pack if you want. We can bring your car back here so you’re ready to go.”
She nods again, and my heart feels like it’s been hit with a defibrillator. We don’t have forever. But the time we do have left will be spent together.
