Page 26 of Kellan & Emmett (Gomillion High Reunion #1)

Kellan

The sun sat high enough to bake the back of my neck, sweat slipping down between my shoulder blades.

The gardenias were in bloom, heavy and sweet in the air, almost too much, but Emmett knelt in it like he belonged there.

Hands in the dirt, shirt damp at the collar, forearms streaked with soil. I’d seen him behind the inn counter a hundred times now, sleeves rolled neat, hair brushed back, polite smile for guests. But here… here he was rooted.

“I don’t get how you make it look easy,”

I said, fumbling with a stubborn weed that seemed more attached to the earth than I was.

“Every plant I’ve ever owned died on me.”

“That’s because you treated them like mascots instead of living things,”

he said, smirking sideways at me. He reached over, plucked the weed out with two fingers, flicked it aside.

“It’s patience more than anything. Plants’ll tell you what they need if you pay attention.”

I huffed, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm.

“Never figured you for a gardener in school. You weren’t exactly the—”

“The standout?”

His voice cut in, gentle but sure.

“I wasn’t. Not at anything. Not books, not sports. Not music, not art. Cooking—don’t even get me started. All I had was this.”

He patted the soil, quiet for a beat.

“This and a dream to run something of my own one day. Miss Cole let me hang around, called it helping, but really we were just keeping each other company.”

His tone had softened, and I caught the way his thumb lingered in the dirt, stroking the earth like it still held her in it.

My chest pulled tight. I’d left, chasing a scholarship, chasing an idea of who I was supposed to be. And here he’d been, finding roots without me.

“You stayed,”

I said. It came out heavier than I meant.

“I stayed.”

He glanced up, green eyes locking with mine.

“And when she passed, she left me this place. Figured I’d sell it at first. But…”

He shrugged, smile faint.

“The porch still sang when the wind hit it. The walls still smelled like cinnamon. Couldn’t let it go.”

Something unsteady stirred in me—guilt, sure, but something warmer too. Like maybe I could stay now. Like maybe it wasn’t too late.

I shifted, digging my fingers into the dirt again to ground myself, but Emmett leaned just close enough that his breath grazed my ear.

“Don’t worry, Coach. You’re better at other kinds of… growth.”

Heat rushed up my neck before my brain caught up to the words. I shot him a look, but his grin was pure mischief, eyes flicking to my flushed face.

“Called it,”

he said, smug as anything.

I grunted, ducking back to the row of plants, but the blush burned hot and relentless.

The afternoon wore on, the two of us working in rhythm—pulling weeds, patting down soil, trading small barbs that circled closer and closer to flirting.

By the time Emmett pushed back on his heels and dusted his palms, the shadows had stretched long across the garden beds.

“Enough dirt for one day,”

he said, standing and offering me a hand up.

“I’m taking you somewhere.”

“Somewhere?”

I raised a brow, brushing soil off my knees.

“You’ll see.”

He smirked, already turning toward the house.

We washed up, changed into clean T-shirts, and Emmett pulled together a picnic basket like it was second nature—fruit, sandwiches, bottled water, a couple of oatmeal cookies wrapped in wax paper. I carried it out while he grabbed his truck keys.

The hum of the engine filled the cab, windows rolled down to let the warm breeze cut through. My fingers drummed restlessly on my thigh until Emmett glanced at me, grin tugging.

“You know where we’re headed yet?”

I studied the road, the curve of trees bending familiar. My stomach dipped.

“The creek?”

His grin widened, said all I needed to know.

Silence lingered a moment, easy but weighted, before he added.

“Haven’t been back there with anyone since you.”

I swallowed, the words pressing at my tongue before I let them out.

“I know I hurt you back then. Ditching you for the team, for… appearances. But I never wanted to.”

My voice dropped, rougher.

“I was just too scared to want you the way I did.”[12]

He looked at me quick, eyes bright, and then turned back to the road.

His hand tightened on the wheel, but his mouth curved, soft and knowing.

The air in the cab shifted—charged, vulnerable, alive.[13]

The road narrowed to a rutted track, trees closing in on either side until sunlight broke through in scattered shards.

Emmett eased the truck to a stop and killed the engine.

The hum died, leaving only the drone of cicadas and the rustle of leaves overhead.

When I stepped out, the air shifted cooler, shaded by thick pines and oaks.

I knew the sound before I saw it—the low rush of water over stone.

My chest tightened as we rounded the bend, and there it was: the creek.

Not a lake, not the wide open expanse of water the others bragged about.

This was smaller, tucked away, half-hidden from the world.

Sunlight dappled across the surface, flashing silver where it caught the current. Smooth rocks lined the bank, the same ones we’d sat on as boys with fishing lines tangled more often than not.

I let the sight wash over me, the memories crowding in so fast it almost hurt.

We’d skipped rocks here until our arms ached, lay flat on the grass naming shapes in the clouds, whispered things we wouldn’t have said out loud anywhere else.

And now, twenty years later, Emmett stood beside me, looking like he belonged more here than anywhere else.

His shoulders eased, his mouth curved—not the polite smile he wore for guests, but something freer, unguarded.

He looked alive. Rooted. Like this creek wasn’t just water and stone, but part of him.

“I used to come here after you left,”

he said, voice quiet, not looking at me but at the water.

“The day after graduation, I drove to your house, knocked on the door. Your dad wouldn’t even tell me where you’d gone. Just shut me out.”

His throat worked.

“So I came here. Waited. Thought maybe you’d show.”

I swallowed hard, guilt crawling up my spine.

He picked up a pebble, turned it over in his palm.

“Every Saturday for months I came back. Sat right there on that rock, waiting like an idiot. I don’t know how many times I told myself maybe this week you’d be here. But you never were.”

The words hit like a fist, sharp and clean. I’d thought running had only cost me my own skin, my own silence. I hadn’t thought about the hole it carved out in him.

“Emmy…”

My voice cracked on the name. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, that I’d been too young, too scared, too poisoned by my father’s voice in my head. But the apology stuck somewhere between my ribs and my throat.

He finally looked at me then, green eyes catching the sunlight, and the weight of all those lost Saturdays pressed down so heavy I almost staggered.[14]

“Emmy…”

The name rasped out of me like it had claws. My chest burned, shame crawling higher.

“I’m sorry. For leaving. For blocking you out. For every Saturday you sat here waiting on me and I was too much of a coward to come back.”

My hand fisted at my side, useless, because nothing could undo twenty years.

“You didn’t deserve that. Not then, not ever.”

For a moment, silence pressed thick between us, broken only by the water running over stone. Emmett’s jaw tightened, and I braced for him to tell me I was right—that I’d ruined it all, that he should never have trusted me again.

Instead, he tossed the pebble into the creek, the ripples spreading out slow.

“You were eighteen, Kelly. We both were. And scared kids make shitty choices.”

He turned, finally meeting my eyes.

“You’ve carried the guilt long enough. We don’t need to keep digging it back up.”

I blinked at him, throat tight.

“You’re just going to let it go?”

He gave a small shrug, lips curving into the ghost of a smile.

“Not just. I’m saying we put it to rest. No more apologies. No more silence. If something eats at us—say it. If we’re scared—say it. I don’t want another twenty years of not knowing what you’re thinking.”

Something unspooled in me at that, a knot I hadn’t realized I’d tied so tight. My shoulders dropped, air rushing out of me.

“Always communicate,”

I said quietly, testing the words like they might vanish if I said them too loud.

“Always,”

Emmett echoed.

The ripples from his stone faded into the current, and for the first time in years, I felt like maybe I wasn’t drowning in my own.[15]

Emmett bent to grab another stone, thumb running over the flat surface before he flicked it across the creek. Three skips, then it vanished under. He gave a satisfied little grunt and shot me a sidelong look.

“Bet you still can’t beat that.”

I huffed a laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re scared,”

he teased, and before I could fire back, he was tugging his shirt over his head.

The words caught in my throat.

Sunlight caught his skin, gold against the smooth lines of his shoulders, the soft trail of hair disappearing into his jeans.

And then those, too, were shoved down, pooling at his ankles, leaving him utterly bare. My pulse slammed. He stood there like he’d shed more than just fabric — like he was finally unhidden.

And Christ, he was gorgeous.

Broad chest dusted with hair, lean stomach, cock thick and heavy, already beginning to swell.

My own hardened in answer, heat rushing through me until I was dizzy with it.

He caught me staring and grinned, wicked and sure.

“What’s wrong, Kelly? Forgot how to undress?”

I swallowed hard, then shoved my jeans down, briefs with them, baring myself to him. His gaze swept down, lingered, and his smirk turned molten.

“There he is,”

he murmured.

The tension between us snapped, turning sharp with want. Emmett jerked his chin toward the water.

“Race you.”

I barely had time to brace before he bolted, bare feet pounding the grass, and I chased after, laughter tearing out of me even as my body ached with need.

We hit the creek together, cold water slapping hot skin, and came up sputtering, grinning like idiots.

I lunged, dunking him under, but he came up laughing, hair plastered to his forehead, chest slick with water.

And then the laughter faltered.

He was looking at me like he had back in the office, right before he kissed me — like he couldn’t not.

One breath, two, and then our mouths collided.

The creek surged around us, cool, but every part of me burned.

His tongue slid against mine, desperate and hungry.

Our cocks brushed under the water, both of us hard, and I groaned into his mouth, clutching at his slick shoulders to drag him closer.

He ground against me, water churning, hands roaming everywhere, discovery tumbling into want so sharp it made me shudder.[16]

His mouth tasted of river and heat, of something I’d been starving for half my life.

The kiss turned frantic, teeth clicking, tongues tangling, until I didn’t know where I ended and he began.

I slid my hands down his back, the slick curve of muscle under my palms, until I cupped the swell of his ass and pulled him tighter against me.

His cock slid against mine, trapped between us, the friction dizzying even through the current.

He groaned into my mouth, the sound raw and helpless, and it went straight to my spine.

“Emmy—”

His voice cracked on my name, swallowed by another kiss.

Water lapped at our chests, our thighs, cool where our skin met, but everywhere else we burned.

I rocked against him, slow at first, then harder, water splashing around us as we chased the drag of cock on cock.

His fingers dug into my shoulders, then skimmed down, trembling, until they wrapped around me under the surface.

I gasped into his mouth, hips jerking. “Fuck—”

Kellan’s hand worked me under the water, the motion uneven, shaky, like he didn’t quite know the rhythm but couldn’t stop trying.

It made my breath catch — not from finesse, but from the rawness of it, the fact that he wanted me enough to try.

My own hand slid between us, closing firmly around the thick length of him.

I knew what I was doing, but the water made every stroke slick, every drag a little chaotic, and somehow that mess only sharpened the need.

We ground together, my grip steady where his fumbled, and the combination had us both gasping.

Every groan, every breathless laugh, every splash felt like a confession.

We kissed through it, lips swollen, teeth scraping, water beading on our skin.

His forehead knocked against mine as our rhythm stuttered, cocks sliding hot and slick under the current.

I’d imagined him like this a thousand ways, but none of them touched the reality of him shuddering against me, gasping my name into the open sky.[17]

Kellan’s fist pumped me hard enough to make my hips jolt, his rhythm stuttering, uneven.

He didn’t know what he was doing — not really — but Christ, he wanted it, and the want made my whole body shake.

His forehead pressed to mine, teeth gritted like he was holding on for dear life, and every clumsy stroke felt like a vow: I want you.

I’ve always wanted you.

I wrapped my hand around him, firmer, practiced, my thumb sweeping over the head just the way I knew would undo him.

The water slicked every movement, made each slide chaotic and slippery, but it didn’t matter.

The mess of it made him groan, raw and broken, like he couldn’t believe how good it felt.

We kissed through it, mouths hot and open, swallowing each other’s gasps.

Our cocks slid together under the current, his grip faltering, mine tightening, until the rhythm collapsed into grinding need.

He jerked against my fist, panting into my mouth.

“Emmy—”

His voice cracked, desperate, and then he shuddered hard, spilling hot even in the cool water, muffling his groan against my shoulder.

The force of it undid me.

My body seized, release tearing through me as I stroked myself into his trembling grip, coming with a ragged cry that echoed across the creek.

We clung to each other, water rushing past, our breath ragged and uneven.

His chest heaved against mine, my hand still wrapped around him, both of us shaking from the flood of it.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of cicadas, the rush of the current, and the wild hammer of his heart pressed to my chest.[18]

The current cooled us, but my skin still burned where he touched me.

His forehead rested against mine, both of us panting, water lapping at our waists.

I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but eventually he huffed out a shaky laugh, the sound half-disbelieving.

“Jesus,”

he muttered, voice raw.

“We really just did that.”

“Yeah,”

I said, brushing my thumb over his jaw before letting him go.

“And we’re gonna freeze if we don’t get out.”

We stumbled up the bank, dripping and giddy, collapsing onto the grass. The sun baked down warm, blades sticking to our wet skin. For a while we just lay there, laughing under our breath, catching the rhythm of each other’s lungs. Then modesty—or maybe comfort—nudged us. We tugged our clothes back on, damp fabric clinging as we dressed.

Emmett reached into the back pocket of his jeans once they were on and pulled out a small, worn pocketknife. “Come on,”

he said, tugging my hand.

“I want to show you something.”

We wandered a few steps into the trees until we came to an old oak, bark rough and ridged, the kind of tree that had stood through decades of summers. My throat went tight the second I saw it—the carved letters still faintly there: Emmy + Kelly friends 4ever.

I reached out, fingers brushing the grooves. “God,”

I whispered.

“We were what, fourteen? Fifteen?”

Emmett’s smile was soft.

“Something like that.”

The words clawed up before I could stop them.

“I wanted to carve a heart back then.”

My palm pressed flat against the bark.

“Just couldn’t bring myself to.”

For a beat, silence held. Then Emmett pressed the knife into my hand, his eyes steady.

“So do it now.”

I swallowed, chest tight, and carved a slow curve around our names. Emmett steadied the bark with his hand, his fingers brushing mine as we finished the heart together.

When I leaned back, it was there, bold and certain—what I hadn’t been brave enough to admit as a kid.[19]

Daily To-Do

Fresh flowers in the nook vases

Refill iced tea pitchers

Double-check online reservations

Kiss Kellan goodnight