Page 139 of Almost Rotten

He opens his eyes, peeking up at me through the dark, silently watching me watch him. Tension strums between us as we enter into a new but familiar battle of wills.

He clears his throat, then his Adam’s apple bobs. “Kiss me and I’ll take the pill.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re shameless.”

“I think you mean obsessed.”

Despite all the ways we’ve explored one another’s bodies, we’ve never kissed. Not on the lips. Not with intention.

An image of Mercer appears in my mind. Then Noah. My relationships with them are clearly defined but on shaky ground. I would beirateif either of them kissed anyone else. And kissing Ty wouldn’t be meaningless. Not for either of us, I realize.

“All I have to do is kiss you?” I ask anyway. “Then you’ll take a pill and go to sleep?”

Ty scoffs. “All you have to do is kiss me like you actually like me.”

I breathe out through my nose. Good grief, is he testing my patience tonight.

He cups my face, startling me.

As his warmth soaks into me, I peer down and take in the first boy I ever loved.

Even with his face contorted in pain, he’s beautiful. His dark, fathomless eyes, high cheek bones, and sharp jawline have infiltrated my fantasies for years. As I study every detail, sharing oxygen with him, inching closer, butterflies tickle my insides.

“Kiss me like the last three and a half years didn’t ruin everything. Kiss me like what we have is still pure and good. Kiss me like you know deep down it’s supposed to be you and me.”

Tears prick behind my eyes. “Ty—”

He weaves a hand into my hair and pulls me down until my mouth is hovering an inch above his.

“Kiss me like I didn’t fuck it all up, mon ange. Like at the end of this life, you’ll still be by my side.”

Eyes closed, I give up the fight.

I close the space between us and gently press my lips to his, giving life to the false promises he’s desperate to believe.

The reality is, I can’t give him what he wants. Because he can’t give me what I need. It’s time to choose who I am over who I hope he’ll be.

Ty deepens the kiss, holding me tighter, swirling his tongue around mine. I match him stroke for stroke, giving as good as I get, because while he’s desperate for hope, this is my goodbye.

Chapter fifty-nine

Tytus

Ifeel like I’m dying.

But I got my kiss, and now my girl is resting peacefully in my arms. It’s all I can do to focus on her and not the pain.

If this is it, fine. RIP me, literally. I’ll die a happy man.

I stroke the soft strands of Sawyer’s hair while she sleeps, relishing the feel of her body against mine. Something clicked when she agreed to kiss me. I felt the shift—saw the acceptance in her eyes. Immense relief sawed through me when she deepened the kiss on her own, moving her mouth against mine in a desperate, hungry fervor.

We kissed until we were both breathless.

Our first real kiss, and the clear signal I needed to know we’re going to be okay.

She’s curled up beside me because she wants to be.

For the first time in a very long time, I’m holding her because she wants to be held.