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CHAPTER

FORTY-SEVEN

CORTLAND

I only ever wanted you.

Those words echo in my head, over and over. Her hand is laced through mine as we drive into the nearest town. A place with two stoplights and exactly one shop. A coffee shop, thankfully.

“I never wanted them.”

I see her eyes in my head, the fire reflected in them. The truth in her words. They hurt last night. Those words fucking hurt.

And I can’t go back. I can’t redo that night no matter how much I wish I could. But I meant what I said. I want to make it up to her.

I pull into the packed dirt parking lot of the café, jog around the truck and open her door. She looks beautiful with sleepy, golden eyes, her faded orange hair in a messy bun, wisps of her long, straight strands hanging around her face.

She’s wearing my Ely University football hoodie, orange and black with a tiger paw on the front.

Her leggings are the same ones she wore last night, but it’s not like she slept in them.

There’s a hickey on her neck from where I fucked her in the tent after the shit by the fire, and she must not have hated it, because we’re skipping class—and practice—again tonight.

She didn’t even mention lying to Sloane again.

And we didn’t talk about that night after everything by the fire.

I can’t help but wonder if we ever found a way to be together, if it’ll just always hang between us. I wonder if I could handle that, to have her.

Yes.

I help her down from the truck, closing her door, locking it and slipping the key in the pocket of my black sweats as I wrap my arm around her, threading my fingers through hers. “You hungry?” I ask her, kissing the top of her head.

It feels good out here, the mountains just beyond the small café. Small, but people are loitering on the porch, some rocking in white-painted rocking chairs. A couple of old men in suspenders, a few women with permed hair and painted nails.

Small town charm, it kind of reminds me of West Virginia out here.

“No,” she says softly, “I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

I stop walking from the dirt parking lot and turn to look at her. “Excuse me?”

She shrugs, biting her lip and grinning, and I think we both like burying the heavy shit from time to time. It’s always lurking, but sometimes, we just have to live .

“I don’t have an appetite in the morning.”

I blink at her. “That’s unacceptable.”

She rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out.

I catch sight of the ball of her piercing and pull her to me, wrapping both of my arms around her and pushing her up against the truck.

She threads her fingers together behind my neck, arching her back and pressing into me, standing on her tiptoes in those white Chucks.

“I do what I want, Cortland Adler,” she admonishes me, and for one of the first times, I hear her Southern drawl loud and clear. Like she’s tried to hide it all this time, but now it comes out in full force.

It makes my dick hard, and I put one hand on her hip, yanking her against me so she can feel it. “Is that so?”

She lines up her nose with mine, staring up at me with bleary eyes. The tent and the air mattress were comfortable after another one of our wars last night, but sinking myself inside of her was far more comfortable. “Yes, bossy.”

My smile hurts my cheeks as I plant one hand on her ass, uncaring if all the grandmas and grandpas of this town see me groping my girl out here. “I think you should do what I tell you.”

“And what’re you going to tell me to do?” she asks, fluttering her lashes in innocence.

I bring my lips to her ear and feel her tense. “Beg me to let you come.”

She starts giggling, smacking at my chest as she shakes in my arms. For one of the first times, it’s not from fear or nerves or anger.

Just joy.

I bite her ear, holding her tight to me.

It’s bittersweet, her small frame in my arms, because no matter how much I want to make it up to her, I know it won’t last. I know here, away from West River and Ely and my mom and Chase and Maya, we can pretend to be two people in love.

Here, we can get rid of the past. That night where I was the attacker and she was the victim, and I tore her entire world apart.

Here, I get to heal her.

But back in the real world, I’ve got no business being around her, let alone trying to fix something I broke.

And Storm was right. People are just people, no matter their perceived power.

But hearts are hearts, and they can shatter despite our best intentions.

I’m on borrowed time with her here, and eventually, this will end in sorrow.

It’s as if she senses it too, the way she pulls back, flat on her feet, her arms a little looser around my neck. Like she knows we can’t hold on forever.

I jerk my chin toward the café, not wanting to ruin the moment between us just yet. I’ve done enough of that to last us a lifetime.

We get one more night. One more night before we have to go back to hiding.

“Let’s eat,” I tell her.

She rolls her eyes. “I’ll get a coffee.”

Good enough for me.