Page 43 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer (Summers in Seaside)

forty-two

. . .

Noah

I should stop her.

I should step back, take a breath, remind myself that this is wrong. That she buried a man tonight and I watched her do it.

That I let her.

That I’m planning to bury the body better.

And that’s not all I’m burying for her.

But her mouth is on mine, and she tastes like fear, hope, tequila, and everything I thought I’d lost.

And I can’t stop.

Because I’m already in this.

Because I still love her.

Because I won’t survive another day without her. Not after tasting her again.

And because I’ve already killed half the evidence and started building the patio in my head.