Page 9

9

MAGNOLIA

A boy is walking me home.

No…not a boy. A man. A man who smells like all the things I find most delicious, temptation incarnate. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to press closer to him right now.

I’ve never been kissed, never been touched like that—but tonight, for the first time, I understand what all the fuss is about. The way Colt looks at me, the way his voice curls around my name, low and rough—it makes me feel like the apple in the Garden of Eden.

I would hand myself over to him with no regrets.

We walk at a leisurely pace away from the community center, toward the clump of little cabins and houses where a few of our families have taken up residence. I’ve been offered a place in the den proper more than once–Peaches says I could even be her roommate, like young women did before the Convergence–but I’ve never wanted to leave home. There’s been too much to do, helping out with Lucy, cooking with my dad, making lesson plans with my mom.

Right now, though? Right now I wish I lived with Peaches and not with my parents.

Because if my mom finds out Colt is walking me home, she is not going to be happy.

Colt’s overwhelming, intoxicating presence is impossible to ignore, walking close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him, close enough that his scent fills up my senses. It makes me lightheaded, that scent. Makes me want to do things that never even seemed appealing before.

I tell myself to focus on anything else. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath my shoes. The faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Anything but him.

But every time I try, my attention drifts back. To the way he moves, so steady and sure. To the way his gaze flicks toward me, unashamed, like he wants me to know he’s looking.

This man is shameless, and it speaks to a part of me that’s been quiet my whole life…until now.

“You’re quiet,” he says, like he’s reading my mind. It sends a little shiver down my spine, but I shake it off, glancing at him with what I hope is a casual smile.

“Just tired,” I lie. “It’s been a long day.”

“I can imagine,” he says with a wry smile. “You’re the most popular girl in the pack, as far as I can tell.

I snort. “There’s a difference between ‘popular’ and ‘needed’,” I tell him. “I think I land much more on the needed side of the spectrum.”

He shakes his head. “Nah…people love you. It’s written all over their faces, you can hear it in their voices. Every conversation you have…it’s pretty incredible.”

I blush, chancing a glance at him. He’s staring, as usual. “So you’ve been watching me?” I whisper.

His canine snags on his lower lip in a half-smile. “You’re nice to look at.”

My cheeks heat almost to the point of making me sweat, and I find myself incredibly grateful for the low light. Cicadas sing all around us, a Texas lullaby…or maybe a love song.

“So what does a guy have to do to get a plush place in the neighborhood?” he asks, gesturing around at the cabins–some of which are still under construction. “This is a far cry from the den; you get a house because you’re the teacher?”

“No,” I laugh. “It’s silly, but…the Jones family, we’re kind of a legacy around here? One of the only families that’s still together from before the Convergence. My folks were already pregnant with me when everything went wrong, and then they were leaders in the uprising in Austin. I have three siblings, and we all live together in the house.”

His eyebrows lift slightly, and for the first time tonight, I see genuine surprise flicker across his face. “All of you?” he repeats. “That’s…”

“...noisy,” I finish for him. I laugh, the sound soft and self-deprecating. “It’s a lot, but Reyes was kind enough to give us the only big house on the property, so I at least have my own bedroom. But it’s how we’ve always done things. My parents like keeping everyone close.”

“So what?” he says. “You had to sneak boys in through the window like the old days?”

I choke on a laugh, startled by his bluntness. “What? No!” My cheeks burn as I glance over at him, but he’s watching me with that crooked smirk, like he’s enjoying watching me squirm.

“No?” he presses, his voice low and teasing. “Not even once?”

I shake my head, hating how warm my face feels. “I’ve never…I mean, there’s never been anyone to sneak in.”

That catches him off guard. “Never?”

I don’t know why I answer him, why I let the words tumble out before I can think better of it. “I’ve never even been kissed,” I admit, the words feeling impossibly loud in the quiet night.

Colt stops walking, turning to face me fully, and the shift in his posture sends a wave of heat through me. His gaze locks on mine, and I feel exposed, like he can see right through me.

“You’re serious,” he says—like he can’t believe it.

“Yes,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest like it might shield me from the way he’s looking at me—intense, like he’s trying to figure me out. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“It is,” he counters, stepping closer, and I’m suddenly very aware of how tall he is, how broad his shoulders are, how he’s crowding my space without actually touching me. “You’re telling me no one’s ever been lucky enough to kiss you? Not once?”

I can’t tell if his tone is teasing or something else entirely, but the way my stomach twists has nothing to do with embarrassment anymore. “It’s not about luck,” I mumble, glancing away, but his presence is impossible to ignore. He’s too close, his scent—dark chocolate, too delicious—wrapping around me in a way that makes it hard to think straight.

“You know,” he says slowly, his voice dipping lower, “if you ever wanted to change that…I’d be happy to help.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

“It means,” Colt says, his lips curving into the faintest smirk, “I’d love to be the one to fix that.”

My heart stutters, and I feel like the ground’s been pulled out from under me. “What?” The word is barely audible, but I can’t seem to say anything else.

His expression doesn’t waver, and the way he looks at me sends heat racing through my veins. “You heard me,” he says simply.

I don’t know how to respond, don’t know how to handle the way he’s unraveling me with nothing but his words and the way he stands too close, too still. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out, and I hate that I can feel my cheeks burning again.

Colt leans in just slightly, enough to send a shiver of awareness down my spine. “Say the word, Magnolia,” he murmurs. “And I’ll kiss you right now.”

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Every part of me is screaming to close the space between us, but all I can do is stare at him, my heart racing so loud I’m sure he can hear it.

And then, just as quickly as the moment came, it’s gone. Colt steps back. “But maybe I shouldn’t,” he adds, his tone lighter now. “Your folks are probably waiting, right?”

The mention of my family snaps me out of whatever trance he’d pulled me into, and I blink, my thoughts scrambling to catch up. “Yeah,” I say, my voice shaky. “They’re probably wondering where I am.”

He nods, his smirk returning. “Better not keep them waiting,” he says, falling into step beside me again.

I’m hyper-aware of every step he takes beside me, of the way his presence fills the space around us, crowding out everything else. My head is spinning, my thoughts a chaotic mess as I try to figure out what’s happening—what this is.

“Is there a reason why not?” he asks suddenly.

I bite my lip. “Why not what?”

“Why there was never anyone?”

My pulse ticks up again, thrumming a drumbeat in my chest. “I um…I just never liked anyone that much,” I tell him. “I’ve been busy, distracted. Helping with my siblings, with the school…I guess, why would I? And my parents, they’re protective. They’ve been through a lot. We all have. I think they just want to make sure I’m safe.”

He hums, a sound that’s neither agreement nor argument, and it sets me on edge. “So they’re why you’ve never?—”

“It’s not just them,” I cut in quickly, suddenly defensive. “I mean, yeah, they’re a part of it, but it’s not like they were standing at the door with a shotgun, chasing people off. It’s…it’s me too.”

Colt’s pace slows, just slightly, as if he’s giving me space to catch up with my own thoughts. “How do you mean?”

I chew on my bottom lip, my gaze dropping to the gravel path beneath our feet. “I guess I’ve always just…felt like I had other things to focus on. Like there wasn’t room for anything else. And maybe…” I hesitate, my voice faltering as the words sit heavy in my chest. “Maybe I didn’t think anyone would actually want to.”

The silence makes me cringe–like it’s confirmation that I was right about that. I risk a glance over at him, and the look on his face stops me in my tracks.

He looks…angry.

“You don’t believe that,” he says.

I swallow hard, shrugging as I force a laugh. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it? I’m twenty-four and never been kissed, it’s not like I’m going to start now–”

“It does matter,” Colt interrupts. He stops walking entirely, turning to face me. “It matters because it’s bullshit.”

I blink up at him, startled by his sudden intensity. “What?”

“You thinking no one would want to,” he says, his tone unwavering. “That’s bullshit.”

My cheeks flush, and I try to look away, but his presence is too overwhelming. He’s too close, his voice too steady, his gaze too piercing. “Colt?—”

“No, listen to me,” he interrupts, his voice lowering but losing none of its weight. “If no one’s ever told you before, I’m telling you now: anyone who doesn’t want you is either blind, stupid, or both. And if they didn’t tell you that, they’re idiots too.”

I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing as I try to find a response. His words sit heavy between us, and I can feel the truth of them sinking into my chest, unraveling something I’ve kept tightly wound for as long as I can remember.

“I—” I start, but he cuts me off again…and I wonder why this has him so angry, so intense.

“You don’t have to explain it to me, Magnolia,” he says. “But don’t sell yourself short. Now…I think I promised you I would get you home. No kiss required.”

By the time we reach my house, my pulse is thrumming in my ears, and I can feel the weight of him behind me as I climb the small steps to the porch. I turn to face him, my back to the door, and for a moment, I’m not sure what to do.

“Thanks,” I say. “For walking me home.”

“Anytime,” he says, his voice low, his gaze steady on mine.

The air between us is impossibly heavy, pressing us closer together. He doesn’t move, and neither do I. I should say something, make a joke, brush this off as nothing—but I can’t.

Not when he’s looking at me like that, like he’s waiting for something, daring me to say the wrong thing so he can prove me right.

“You should probably—” I start, but the words falter when he takes a step closer, closing the already-small distance between us.

My breath catches, and I can feel my pulse thrumming just beneath the surface of my skin, hot and quick. He’s so close now that I have to tilt my head to meet his gaze, and it’s impossible to ignore the way his scent—dark chocolate and roasted coffee, warm and rich—wraps around me like a cocoon.

“Probably what?” he asks, his voice low and rough. It sends a shiver through me, one I don’t bother trying to suppress.

“I—” I try again, but the words are gone. All I can do is stand there, frozen, as he leans in just slightly, his hand lifting to brush a stray curl away from my face.

The touch is fleeting, barely there, but it’s enough to leave me unsteady. His fingers linger near my temple, and I’m sure he can hear my breathing, shallow and uneven, in the quiet of the night.

“I don’t think you want me to go,” he murmurs.

I don’t answer. I can’t. The truth is too much, too raw to say out loud, but it’s written all over my face, in the way I lean just slightly toward him, in the way my gaze flickers to his mouth before I can stop it.

Colt notices. Of course he notices. His lips curve into a smirk as he steps closer, his hand brushing my cheek now, and my knees feel like they might give out.

“Say the word,” he murmurs, voice so low it’s like it’s meant for me alone. “And I’ll kiss you.”

It’s not fair, the way he says it, almost irresistible. I don’t trust myself to answer, don’t trust myself to say anything at all, so I just look at him, hoping he can read everything I’m too afraid to say.

His gaze drops to my mouth, and for a moment, I think he’s going to close the distance. My heart is pounding so loud it’s like it’s trying to leap out of my chest, and I don’t know if I want to run or reach for him.

Then his gaze shifts, flicking toward the window behind me, and his entire demeanor changes.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience,” he says, his voice dipping lower, and I follow his gaze to the faint shadow moving behind the curtain. My stomach drops as I realize it’s my mother, her silhouette unmistakable.

“Oh, no,” I breathe, stepping back instinctively. My face is burning, and I can’t even look at Colt now, too mortified to meet his gaze.

He chuckles. “Guess I’ll take that as my cue,” he says, stepping back and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I should—” I start, but I can’t even finish the sentence. My thoughts are still scrambled, my chest tight with everything I don’t know how to say.

Colt nods, his smirk softening. “Goodnight, Magnolia,” he says.

“Goodnight,” I manage, my voice barely audible, and I watch as he turns and disappears into the shadows, his broad shoulders fading into the night.

I stand there for a moment longer, my heart still racing, my thoughts still tangled. When I finally turn and head inside, I can still feel the ghost of his hand against my cheek, the weight of his gaze, the promise in his voice.

And I already know I’m in so much trouble.

Not with my parents.

With him.