Page 100 of Almost Ravaged

I tip my head back toward the sky again, savoring the sunshine behind closed eyelids. Already, the sun sets too early for my liking. I’m more aware of it now than ever before since I’m watching the weather ahead of next week’s visit to the orchard.

A student suggested we capture an overnight time-lapse, starting before sunset and ending after sunrise. Because none of this will happen during operating hours, Mercer and I agreed that I should set up the camera and take it down the next morning.

A thrill shoots through me at the thought of another visit to the orchard. Setup won’t take more than a few minutes, but I’m already eagerly hoping I’ll bump into the reserved owner when I’m there on Friday night.

The more I get to know Noah, though, the more I realize that the termreserveddoesn’t really describe him that well. Yes, he can be grumpy. Even downright cantankerous on occasion. But he’s also protective and deeply caring.

Just like Edna said: he’s sweet as pie on the inside, where it counts.

I lift a hand to my lips, my mind wandering to yesterday’s experience with the bees. Again. To the passionate way he talked about them. To the way he held out the honeycomb and told me to suck.

Every nerve ending in my body came to life as I tasted the honey, liquid lust flooding my senses when his full attention was locked on me.

It was bold, and probably a little reckless, the way I sucked his thumb into my mouth, pushing him further. But it felt right in that moment.

Had my phone alarm not sounded, I’m certain he would have kissed me.

He was right there. We were so close.

Hence my eagerness to get back to the orchard and rewrite the ending to that specific story.

I haven’t stopped thinking about him all day. I fell asleep thinking about our almost-kiss, then woke up with the taste of honey on my lips and the feel of his finger pressing down on my tongue.

With his voice in my ear, whispering “fuck it.” His loss of control sent a thrill through me.

The idea of taking things further with him causes warmth to gather in my belly.

Could he be interested in a casual situation?

Or would he want something more serious?

I chew on my lip as I consider all the ways it could go. He seems like more of a relationship type of guy, and although I don’t know his exact age, he’s significantly older than me. Does that mean he wants more from a partner than what I’d be willing to give?

I’ve always had a thing for older men. The way he gets flustered makes me wonder if he’s not as experienced as I am. My gut tells me he’d be slow and gentle at first. Hesitant even. A current pulses up my spine as I imagine pushing to get him to really open up, to unleash that gruff, domineering side he showed me a glimpse of in the apiary.

What I wouldn’t give to hear him growl “fuck it” again.

I’m still thinking about Noah as I approach the arena. I grasp the handle, the icy metal sending a shiver through me, but before I can pull the door open and step into the warm building, the bright light of the sun is snuffed out by a large shadow.

“Hey, Sawy. Didn’t know you were working today.”

I whirl around and come face to face with my brother and Ty.

“Atty!”

I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze, suddenly realizing how long it’s been since I last saw him.

I’m guaranteed to see Ty a few days a week in class or at the orchard, although all our interactions since the night at the Ledges have been stilted and painfully formal. A lot of that’s on me. I’m trying to maintain some semblance of space between us.

Despite my desire for a bit of distance, he still insists on walking me to class, and he’s always coming up with excuses to visit me at the rental counter. He’s been friendlier to the arena staff over the last few weeks, too. Arjun even came close to convincing him to try his latest creation, the Bazooka Bologna Blitz, a few days ago.

With a laugh, my brother kisses my head. Then he backs away, his hands up. “Settle down, sis. You’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

Ty holds the door, and as I pass him, I glance back at my brother, a brow cocked. “Good night texts and random memes to the group chat don’t count as staying in touch, bro.”

He shrugs. “You know how it is. Things are only going to get busier when the season begins.”

I chance a peek at Tytus, but he’s not looking my way.