Page 20

I chuckled, rolling my eyes toward the dark sky, barren of stars. “You’re a glutton for punishment—you know that?”

Her hands were cool as they touched my wrists, tugging them toward her. She placed my palms against her waist, and I looked down to meet her wide, hopeful eyes.

“I might not understand you, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you,” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck and standing on her toes. “I wish it did.”

Her lips touched mine tentatively. Warm and soft yet uncertain.

She held her breath, and I held mine. Both of us waiting …

but for what? For something to change, a shift in the universe, a different frame of mind to come over me that was never going to happen?

I wasn’t sure, but my hands rested against her hips, not daring to move, out of fear that if they started, they wouldn’t know when to stop.

Her fingers ran over the short hairs at the back of my head, and she smiled, a soft laugh pushing through her nose.

“What?” I whispered, my eyes closed.

“It tickles,” she whispered back.

“Do you hate it?” I asked, and I couldn’t stand how much I wished that she didn’t.

“I already told you, Max,” she replied, pressing her lips to mine again, then again. This time, I kissed her back. “I tried to hate you, but I can’t.”

Then my hands found the courage to move, rounding to the small of her back, pressing her against my body.

She gasped and tightened her grasp on my neck, her thumbs stretching to brush the underside of my jaw.

I tried to hold back, tried to resist, but when her lips parted hesitantly, I had no choice but to respond.

Our tongues reached out to touch, to taste.

To savor this moment as it zipped by, like all the rest.

We made out on the sidewalk outside of her house for minutes.

Our labored breathing, moans, and whispers of desperation filled the night while our hands and arms grappled for anything they could hold, as if they could hold on forever.

My shirt, her hair. The back of my head, her slim waist and perfect, round ass.

All of it. I wanted to hold on to everything until there was nothing—not time, not distance, not my father—that could force me to let go.

“Hey! ”

I released her from my hold so quickly that I almost fell backward, and Laura pressed her back firmly against the fence.

“Laura! Is that you?”

She panted, panicked, and whispered, “That’s my dad.”

I nodded in reply, recognizing his voice from prom night.

“Laura!”

She winced. “I have to answer him.”

“Okay.”

Laura cleared her throat and stepped away from the shadows. Reluctantly, I followed.

“Hey, Dad,” she said, embarrassed. “Sorry. I, um … I know it’s late.”

Her father—wearing an open bathrobe and an undershirt and boxers beneath—squinted at his daughter and me, standing behind her. He nodded knowingly, a scowl tugging at his lips.

“Hi, sir,” I greeted hesitantly, stepping further into the light. “I’m sorry. We—"

“You’re that kid who took her to the prom,” he interjected with a grunt, disapproval in his tone.

“Yes, sir,” I answered, not allowing myself to waver, though I couldn’t blame him in the slightest for being unhappy.

I’d be unhappy too, if I were in his shoes.

“Laura, say good night,” her father said before abandoning the doorway but leaving it open.

She sighed and nodded—to him or herself, I wasn’t sure—then turned to face me .

“When do you leave?”

“Day after tomorrow,” I answered, simultaneously itching to get out of town and wishing so much that I could stay forever.

She faltered in her nod. She sniffled, tried to blink away the tears flooding her eyes, then licked her lips. “A-and when do you come back?”

“Don’t know,” I replied with a shrug, trying not to acknowledge the ache in my chest. “Probably around six months. Give or take.”

Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open. “Six … months ?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice scraping against my dry throat.

“Jesus.” She sniffled and wrapped her arms around herself, turning away in time for a sob to escape her lips. She swallowed, bit her bottom lip, and shook her head. “I-I hate this. You’re always just passing through now.”

“I know.”

She held her arms tighter to her middle as her eyes met mine. “I told you, Max, I won’t be here forever.”

I nodded, my heart splintering. “I know.”

“I will find someone else.”

“I know.” I hoped she would, but, God, I didn’t want her to.

She swatted at a tear as it trickled down her cheek. “You’re an idiot,” she whispered, taking a step toward me, her arms still tightly wound around her middle.

“I know,” I replied .

Laura stood on her toes again, pressing her lips to mine. “Call me when you’re back,” she said against my mouth. “Just in case I haven’t moved on yet.”

I couldn’t help it; I smiled. “I will.”

She stepped back, smiling despite the tears working their way down her cheeks. Then she bit her lip, stared for another beat of my thunderous heart, and turned to run up the walkway to her door.