Page 8 of Voracious

“I will if you let me see you more.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles. “Maybe.”

We sneak out, making sure not to wake my heathen friends or brother, and I follow her into the woods. She leans against a tree, the canopy of branches guarding us from the rain. I hand her a cigarette, light it for her and spark my own.

I’ve never been attracted to smoking, but anything Stacey does is fucking hot to me.

She blows smoke above us and tilts her head. “Why are you staring at me?”

I shrug and inhale deeply. “You’re cute,” I say as smoke releases from my lungs.

Shaking her head, she blushes and takes another draw. “Did you mean it when you said you only wanted me?”

I nod. “Did you?”

She nods too. “Yeah.”

“Great.”

“Great,” she repeats, smiling hard.

So beautiful and mine.

“Sit next to me in the car ride home.”

She hums. “Why?”

“So I can hold your hand.” I shrug and press my mouth to hers. “Or your thigh. Whichever is more accessible.”

“In your mum’s car?”

“I’ll put myhoodieover our hands. Happy?”

“See! You are romantic! That’s kind of like when we were in your living room, when we were watching that dreadful movie Lu chose. We held hands under the blanket.”

I remember that night. I couldn’t get the image of her beneath me out of my head for weeks. “For the billionth time, I’m not romantic.”

“You are!”

I roll my eyes and lift her into my arms, carrying her in the opposite direction from the tents to a nearby picnic bench, settling her on top of it. I stand between her legs, and both our heads gravitate to the side,mesmerisedby the sight before us.

The sun rises over theTorridonHills, illuminations cracking the sky and atmosphere with orange and yellow hues. Flocks of birds fly over the water. I look at Stacey, and her eyes dance with thecoloursreflecting, her cheeks and nose red from the cold.

She’s like my own sunrise. Beautiful. Perfect. She fills a part of me that’s been empty and dark for as long as I can remember.

Maybe Iamfalling in love with her. Should I tell her? Would that scare her?

I see herchittera little, so I yank off myhoodieand pull it over her head. Hers is thin and small. Mine drowns her body, nearly coming down to her knees. “Thank you,” she says,fistingthe cuffs and holding them to her cheeks. “It smells like you.”

“Don’t steal this one.”

She grins. “I’ll need to take it off before we go back to the tents, but I’ll steal it later.”

I smirk, pulling her closer to me by the knees. She buries her head in my chest. We stay like this for God knows how long. In a comfortable silence I’d like to stay in. But then the annoying thoughts start to run wild, so wild I’m shocked she can’t hear my heart slamming against my chest.

Gulping nervously, I allow myself to be honest by asking something that’s been bothering me for a while. “Does it not worry you? Who I am?”

Her head lifts. “What? Why would I be worried?”

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