Page 21 of The Now in Forever

TEN YEARS AGO

T he water is dark in the approaching dawn. We ride for a while until the paved trail stops then trek a little farther, finding an opening in the trees off the path. Ed lays down the blanket, and we both sit facing the water as the sky turns dusky shades of pink and deep blues.

He holds my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine.

I shiver a bit, my skin cooling down fast after the ride and probably the long night.

I always get cold when I’m tired. Ed notices and shrugs off his jacket, placing it on my shoulders.

It smells like him, sweat and citrus and spice.

I tear my eyes away from the light show to look over at Ed, who is staring at me.

His eyes are warm, his lips slightly parted.

He licks them, and I feel a pulse of want shoot through me so strong, I’m momentarily stunned by it.

I lean forward. Our lips meet soft and unhurried, like we have all the time in the world.But we don’t. I know we don’t.

He reaches up into my hair, and tingles shoot from my scalp all the way to my thighs.

I lie back on the blanket, and he follows me, never taking his lips off of mine.

The weight of him on top of me sends fresh electric pulses through me.

He keeps a hand firmly on my waist and runs his other hand down from my neck to my collarbone, tracing it lightly, then continues his path, skimming my breast down to my stomach.

He plays with the edge of my tank top as my breaths get heavier.

I arch into him, and he moves his hand up through the fabric as goose bumps erupt on the sensitive skin of my stomach.

He finds my breast and runs his thumb over my nipple through the silky bra.

I let out a moan, and he squeezes tightly.

I roll so that I’m on top of him and sit up, shrugging off his coat, taking off my shirt, and then undoing my bra, the cool morning air making my nipples almost painfully hard.

I don’t remember a time I’ve ever been naked outside like this.

It’s not like me, too wild, but this morning, it feels right. I feel bold.

Ed is running his hands up my ribs. “You’re so beautiful.”

I tug at his shirt, helping him get it off. His abs flex with the motion of throwing it to the side. Ed is all wiry muscle and tattoos. I trace one on the side of his ribs, a small baby deer curled up in on itself.

He smiles and wiggles. “That tickles.”

I smirk. “Does it?” I run my fingertips up both sides of his waist lightly, and he squirms.

“Oh, I wouldn’t start that.”

He squeezes my hip bones, and I wriggle under his touch. Laughter bubbles through me.

I lean down and kiss him, feeling his soft skin and hard muscle on my breasts. I whisper in his ear. “Do you have a condom?”

He scooches, with me still on his lap, toward his backpack, reaching out his long arms and digging around in the front pocket. He sets the little foil package nearby.

We roll so we are side by side. He runs his hand from my shoulder to my waist and slips in through the gap in the waistband of my denim skirt.

My heart catches in my throat as his fingers find the place I’ve been longing for him to touch since the tree house, since the movie.

Honestly, I’ve imagined it since he read my palm in the bookstore.

The rest of the world falls away. I am all nerve endings and desire as we explore each other’s bodies, nipping and licking, finding out what each other likes.

It turns out I like all of it. Ed’s hands are strong.

I never want them to stop touching me, and he doesn’t, not until we’re both a sweaty, tingling mess.

Just a pile of skin and bones intertwined, our souls hovering somewhere above our bodies, looking down.

Ed is the big spoon to my little spoon as we watch the color of the sunrise fade into just another summer day with a bright-blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Ed pulls half of the blanket over us. A hazy worry about someone seeing us passes through my mind, but I can’t bring myself to care.

I’m a little shocked. This is all so unlike me. But something about this day, about Ed, it feels right. I can’t imagine it going any other way. Like it’s destiny.

Ed points to the clouds, and a dark bird swoops by. It soars in a large arc—its wings outstretched, its body perfectly still slicing through the blue sky. “Every time I see an eagle, I always feel like it’s the universe telling me I’m in the right place at the right time.”

I snuggle closer into him, my back against his chest, and let his words sink deep in my bones. We both silently watch the eagle fly until it disappears into the trees. My eyes are heavy, and with the blanket over us, it’s warm and cozy. I shut my eyes for a moment, but Ed pokes my side.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

“Why not?” I turn my body to face him. “It’s warm and you’re so cozy.”

He laughs. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that about me, ever . You can sleep if you want. I just thought you had work today?”

My whole body slumps under the truth of his statement. “I do. I have to open, since somebody had to go and yell at a customer.”

“I wasn’t yelling at the customer. I just got a little carried away. It’s Kafka on the Shore. ”

It occurs to me that it would’ve been his last day either way. Since he’s leaving. I lay my head on his chest and listen to the thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat. “I don’t want this night to end.”

He runs a hand through my hair. “It already has.”

Panic snatches my breath, and I look into his green eyes.

“I just mean it’s already morning.”

My stomach clenches as if preparing for a blow. Needy is the absolute last thing I want him to think about me. I don’t want to be the one to ask if we’re going to see each other again. But the question hangs in the air between us.

We get dressed and trudge back down the path, through the fancy neighborhood, to Robin’s house. I stop a couple of houses away. I don’t want Robin’s parents to see us if they’re already up and moving around the house.

A soft tug on my green streak brings me back to the moment. Ed’s hand brushes my cheek as it drops to his side. I smile, but I feel like crying. This can’t be goodbye.

Ed runs a hand over his shaved head. “Tonight—last night, I mean. It was the best night of my entire life.”

Joy bursts in my chest. “Same.”

“Do you think I can get your number?”

I picture myself, us, messaging back and forth. Me waiting for him to text—just like with Brandon. I’ve been down that road before, and it only leads to heartache.

“No.”

His smile falls from his face.

I put a hand on his arm, excitement bubbling in my chest. “It’s just, I have a better idea. You’re going to be so busy with your writing, and I’m getting ready for college. What if we plan to meet? Just like in the movie. Are you busy in December?”

The smile is back on his face as he shakes his head.“The residency is over in early December.”

“I could visit my grandma for Christmas break.”

Ed’s eyes brighten. He wraps me in his arms. “Let’s meet then. Before Sunrise style. When? Where?”

I get out my phone and pull up the school schedule I have saved. “My break starts December twentieth.”

Ed’s smile is so wide it reaches to the corners of the earth. “Six months from now. It’s perfect. Let’s meet on December twenty-first. Where?”

I’m nodding, equally elated and deflated. This feels like a brilliant idea and also so dumb. “Boulevard Park. Where we met tonight? Seven p.m.”

“It’s a date.”

It’s also the most romantic thing that has ever happened in my life.

Movement in Robin’s upstairs room draws my attention. The curtain is pulled back at the corner, and Robin’s angelic little face is peeking out, but I don’t think she can see us over here. “I should go.”

Ed leans down, putting his full lips to mine. I channel all my mixed emotions into this one passionate kiss. We pull apart and stare at each other for one last charged beat. Then Ed lets me go. My body misses his hands already.

“See you in December.”

“See you then.”

Ed gets on his board and skates away, a blur of movement once again. An unstoppable force. I realize I’m still wearing his suit jacket, but he’s too far gone for me to call after him. I’ll give it back in December.