Page 85
Story: All I Have Left
Though Grayson says we’re waiting to have sex, and it probably won’t happen tonight—his words, not mine—it’s on our minds. And you might be tired of hearing about it, probably as much as we’re exhausted by the constant push and pull resisting it. It’s consuming and distracting, but I think that’s why we’re hanging on. For two people who are desperately trying to overcome trauma, distractions are key.
The night passes slowly, but it doesn’t prevent us from finding each other throughout the night. It happens about once an hour where we get lost in the moment of kissing and touches. In the kitchen, the hallway, the bathroom once, and anywhere there isn’t a crowd.
Around ten, they’re getting ready to set off some fireworks. Grayson is on the dock with Ethan and Josh. “Evie, can you get the blankets?” Frankie asks, wheeling the cooler down to the water’s edge.
“Yeah. Where are they?”
“Under the deck in the storage benches.”
Making my way back up to the house, my legs burn at the incline, the smile on my face never wavering. As I’m digging through the benches, warm hands wrap aroundmy waist.
His face nestles into my neck releasing a playful growl. He turns me around and steps forward again, his eyes on my chest.
“I can’t help myself.” His hand comes up to rest along my jaw, moving back slightly so his fingers run past my ear and rake through my hair. He leans down, kissing me once more. With a sigh, he draws back, his mouth lingering. “Every time I look at you… I have to be touching you. Do you know how frustrating that is?”
My arms snake around his shoulders, his breath passing over my ear, and it’s hard not to beg for more. “It’s like we’re in high school again, sneaking touches when no one is looking.”
“This is so much worse. Back then I didn’t know what I was missing. Now I know what it feels like. It’s unbearable.”
My fingers work their way into the hair at his temples, pulling him back to me. “I don’t know about that. Remember that time we were at the drive-in with Frankie and Ethan and you were sitting behind me?”
At first, I don’t think he remembers and then it hits him. Sixteen. Drive-in. Blankets over the top of us. Nodding, his eyes light up. “First time you let me touch you, here.”
“To not make a noise the entire time, that was excruciating.”
He blows out a quick breath. “Ha. Maybe for you. I had to fucking resist moving against you.”
A memory works through me. “You disappeared after that. Why?”
His cheeks flush and he shrugs. “I don’t remember. Concession stands maybe?”
And then it dawns on me. “Grayson!”
“What?”
“Did you…?” My voice trails off, my implications obvious.
He swallows, rolling his eyes and stepping back away from me. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting blankets?”
I hold him still, my hands on his biceps. “Did you?”
His breathing increases, his voice husky. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because it’s fucking hot.” My own words tremble. “Did you?”
“You’re relentless.” Pushing me back on the bench, the lid snaps shut, his hands on the tops of my shoulders. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he works himself between my legs, his hands on my ass as he yanks me flush against him. But there’s no answer, just a dirty smirk, like he’s holding a secret at bay. It’s incredibly frustrating.
“Did you?” I ask again.
He searches my eyes, the hunger in his undeniable. “What else was I supposed to do? You left me hanging.”
“I tried to help, but you stopped me.”
He laughs. “Not exactly something you can do discretely. At least with you, it goes unnoticed.”
“So you what, did it in the bathroom?” My words actually shake, the heat between my legs unbearable. I want to grind against him so bad that I actually squirm, the wetness pooling in my panties.
He nods. “It took like two fucking seconds.” Low laughter escapes him, his forehead hitting my shoulder. “I could taste you on my fingers.”
The night passes slowly, but it doesn’t prevent us from finding each other throughout the night. It happens about once an hour where we get lost in the moment of kissing and touches. In the kitchen, the hallway, the bathroom once, and anywhere there isn’t a crowd.
Around ten, they’re getting ready to set off some fireworks. Grayson is on the dock with Ethan and Josh. “Evie, can you get the blankets?” Frankie asks, wheeling the cooler down to the water’s edge.
“Yeah. Where are they?”
“Under the deck in the storage benches.”
Making my way back up to the house, my legs burn at the incline, the smile on my face never wavering. As I’m digging through the benches, warm hands wrap aroundmy waist.
His face nestles into my neck releasing a playful growl. He turns me around and steps forward again, his eyes on my chest.
“I can’t help myself.” His hand comes up to rest along my jaw, moving back slightly so his fingers run past my ear and rake through my hair. He leans down, kissing me once more. With a sigh, he draws back, his mouth lingering. “Every time I look at you… I have to be touching you. Do you know how frustrating that is?”
My arms snake around his shoulders, his breath passing over my ear, and it’s hard not to beg for more. “It’s like we’re in high school again, sneaking touches when no one is looking.”
“This is so much worse. Back then I didn’t know what I was missing. Now I know what it feels like. It’s unbearable.”
My fingers work their way into the hair at his temples, pulling him back to me. “I don’t know about that. Remember that time we were at the drive-in with Frankie and Ethan and you were sitting behind me?”
At first, I don’t think he remembers and then it hits him. Sixteen. Drive-in. Blankets over the top of us. Nodding, his eyes light up. “First time you let me touch you, here.”
“To not make a noise the entire time, that was excruciating.”
He blows out a quick breath. “Ha. Maybe for you. I had to fucking resist moving against you.”
A memory works through me. “You disappeared after that. Why?”
His cheeks flush and he shrugs. “I don’t remember. Concession stands maybe?”
And then it dawns on me. “Grayson!”
“What?”
“Did you…?” My voice trails off, my implications obvious.
He swallows, rolling his eyes and stepping back away from me. “Aren’t we supposed to be getting blankets?”
I hold him still, my hands on his biceps. “Did you?”
His breathing increases, his voice husky. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because it’s fucking hot.” My own words tremble. “Did you?”
“You’re relentless.” Pushing me back on the bench, the lid snaps shut, his hands on the tops of my shoulders. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he works himself between my legs, his hands on my ass as he yanks me flush against him. But there’s no answer, just a dirty smirk, like he’s holding a secret at bay. It’s incredibly frustrating.
“Did you?” I ask again.
He searches my eyes, the hunger in his undeniable. “What else was I supposed to do? You left me hanging.”
“I tried to help, but you stopped me.”
He laughs. “Not exactly something you can do discretely. At least with you, it goes unnoticed.”
“So you what, did it in the bathroom?” My words actually shake, the heat between my legs unbearable. I want to grind against him so bad that I actually squirm, the wetness pooling in my panties.
He nods. “It took like two fucking seconds.” Low laughter escapes him, his forehead hitting my shoulder. “I could taste you on my fingers.”
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