by J. L. White
This time he doesn’t stop and I ride every last, delicious wave, my whole body tightening with it. At last I’m spent and collapse back onto the bed, gasping.
He releases my knees and I slowly lower my legs. He lowers himself until his weight is fully on me, his cock still in me. We pant together, our sweaty bodies wrapped up in each other. I suddenly want my costume all the way off, but I’m too weak to move. After a few moments he pulls out and rolls off, collapsing on his back, his arms outstretched.
“Sorry,” he says, panting, “about your panties.”
I smile. “Don’t worry, I have more.” Besides, it was sexy as hell.
He looks over and grins, then stares at the ceiling. “Can I just say, the cabin was a fucking brilliant idea.”
Chapter 21
We spend the next many days taking advantage of all the area has to offer. We rent a boat and do some water skiing. We hike a few trails, including one that goes along a rim and offers one breathtaking view after another. We take a day trip to an old ghost town that’s been revitalized for the sake of commercialism, and buy cheesy matching coffee mugs in one of the chintzy gift shops. We make love in every room in the cabin (and even christen the boat out on the lake).
We eat in the restaurant every night, right where everyone can see us.
But my favorite part? My very, very favorite part? Falling asleep in his arms every night and waking up in his embrace every morning.
If there’s a heaven on earth, that’s it.
On our last night, we come up to the master bedroom where I discover a surprise. Out on the balcony is a king-sized, thick futon mattress luxuriously made up into a bed. It damn near fills the entire space, but there’s still room for the little table, which has a bouquet of roses, two champagne glasses, and an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it. There’s a single, candle flickering away on a sterling silver candle stick.
“What?” My mouth falls open as I take it all in. “How?”
“I’ll never tell,” he says, smiling. “Do you like it?”
I turn, covering my mouth with my hands.
“Sorry there’s no waterfall,” he teases.
“I love it,” I say, giving him an enthusiastic hug. “I love...”
The moment pauses as we look at each other.
I almost say it then. Almost. And the way he’s looking at me, I half expect him to say it to me. Does he love me? Does he? Or is this just me?
It doesn’t matter anyway. Our days are numbered whether we love each other or not. We’ve always known this, right?
“I love it,” I say again, beaming at him. “Thank you.”
I give him a kiss and look at the bed, holding my hands together in front of my chest and grinning down at it. “We have to get in it right now!”
I kick off my shoes and start peeling off my clothes.
“Just like that, huh?”
“Didn’t I say I’ve always wanted to sleep under the stars naked?” I ask seriously. “I said that, right?”
“No, but I’m all for it,” he says, pulling off his shirt.
Once I’m stripped down, I don’t even wait for him. I climb under the covers, lie flat on my back, and look up at the sky grinning like I’m anxiously waiting for a movie to start.
He laughs easily, pulling off his pants. “Want some champagne?”
“Yes, please,” I say. “Look at it, Shane,” I say with wonder. “Just look at that sky.”
The dark expanse of space stretches farther away from me than I can imagine, and it’s covered with more stars than I think I’ve ever seen at night. It’s like someone took handfuls of glitter and tossed them up in the air. Being up in the mountains and away from the city lights, all the tiny little stars that are normally too dim to see are up there twinkling away at me.
I glance at Shane and see that he has, in fact, paused and is looking up. His expression of wonder pleases me, and I snuggle deeper into the covers and go back to gazing at the stars myself.
He brings me a flute of champagne and I sit up so I can take it. He sits next to me and holds up his glass.
He gives me that tender look of his I’ve come to cherish and gently clinks his glass against mine. As always, we don’t tempt fate with a toast, but I make a wish in my heart. Even though it’s silly because it’s a wish I can’t have.
I set my glass next to the bed and fall against the pillows again, smiling up at the sky. He settles in next to me and pulls me into his arms.
I hear my phone ding in the bedroom, but I ignore it.
“I don’t even want to sleep,” I whisper. “I just want to look at it all night.”
He chuckles lowly and squeezes my shoulders. “It’s a little early to sleep anyway.” It’s actually a few hours before we would normally be going to sleep, but I’m going to milk this for all it’s worth.
My phone dings again. I wish I’d silenced it. I’d get up to do it now, but since the person who texts me most is in the bed next to me, that’s probably the end of things anyway. Besides, it’s so warm and cozy here, nestled up next to Shane in our little bed under the stars.
“Thank you so much for this.”
“My pleasure,” he says, squeezing me.
My phone dings with a message. A second later it dings again. Then again.
“What the hell?” I say, looking in that direction.
“Someone wants you almost as badly as I do,” he says with a grin, kissing my neck.
“Well,” I say grinning and wrapping my arms around him, “they’re going to have to—”
I pull back abruptly, wide-eyed.
“Mom!”
I scramble off the mattress and streak across the bedroom to the nightstand and my phone. My thoughts haven’t even had time to gel into anything cohesive, but the words mom and cancer and death are all floating around in my brain.
But when I check my phone, it’s not from my mom or about her. It’s a series of rapid-fire messages from my girls, having a group conversation.
I see the latest message first—this one from Ashley. That gives you plenty of time. Oh I’m so excited!
Gives who plenty of time to do what? What’s going on?
I brush my thumb quickly down the screen and the messages scroll to the top. That’s when I see the message that started it all. Or, shall I say, the photo that started it all.
It’s from Chloe and it’s a picture of her left hand, sporting a huge engagement ring.
“Oh my god!” I holler at Shane, slowly working my way back to him as I read through the messages in order, all while my phone continues to ding. “Brad proposed to Chloe.”
“Did she say yes?”
“Of course she said yes. What else would she say? Wow, they’ve set a date and everything. August 30.” My fingers start flying over the screen, sending my reply as I finish filling Shane in. “Ashley’s the Maid of Honor, of course, and Sam and I will be bride’s maids. She’s asking if I can come back from Massachusetts for it.”
I glance at Shane and we exchange an uncomfortable look.
“Of course I wouldn’t miss it,” I say quietly, breaking eye contact with him. For some reason I’m feeling the pain of our eventual parting far, far more than I usually do.
I join in the conversation: Of course I’ll be there! I’m so happy for you Chloe! Congratulations!
I look at Shane. He’s lying back on the mattress, watching me.
“She’s really excited,” I say soberly.
He nods and holds out his arms to me. I silence my phone, set it on the table, and crawl under the covers next to him.
We look at each other for a long time. He’s running his fingers along my face and I’m running mine along his arms. My heart is aching more than it ever has. I want to keep him. I want to keep him so much, but I know I can’t.
“Let’s play the What If game,” I say quietly.
“The ‘what if’ game?”
“Yeah. Like, what if we weren’t going to be clear acr
oss the country from each other in three months?”
He brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “You mean because I can’t ask you to give up your dream of going to Harvard to stay with me and you can’t ask me to give up my dream job here?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. This only confirms what I’ve long suspected. He knows as well as I do, this has to come to an end. I nod slowly.
“Well,” he says, pulling me into his arms, “if we weren’t going to be apart...”
“We’d be together,” I say, nestling into his chest.
“Mm-hmm. We’d sleep together every night and wake up in each other’s arms every morning.”
“That’s been my favorite part,” I say.
“Me too.”
“If we weren’t going to be apart,” I say, sinking into the fantasy, “we’d have our own place together and could have our friends over for parties.”
“I could meet your Firework Girls. And your family.”
“My mom’s so sweet,” I say. “I think you’d really like her. I know she’d like you.”
“What about your dad?”
“Oh, you know. My dad takes some getting used to. But he would like you.”
“Even though I’m just a lowly philosophy professor?”
“That’s not lowly!” I say.
“They wouldn’t rather you marry a rich doctor or something?”
“My parents don’t care about stuff like that,” I say dismissively.
He rubs my shoulder softly. “What about you? Would you care about stuff like that?”
I pull up on my elbow to look at him.
“I don’t care about money,” I say softly, then give him a lingering kiss. “Besides, if we weren’t going to be apart, we’d have my salary too and I plan on making big bucks baby. Big bucks.”
He laughs at my teasing. I shrug and say more seriously. “Honestly, I have money if there’s something I really want.”
“You mean like trips to Europe?”
“Psshh. I’ve been to Europe. No biggie. But this,” I say, gesturing toward the star-dotted sky and lying down again. “This is something I’ve never experienced before.”
“You really wouldn’t mind?” he asks.
“No, sweetie. If we could be together, I wouldn’t mind one bit. But you’d just have to suck it up and let me take you to Greece to see my family’s roots. We could walk the old ruins together, too. Ah, I can just see my little philosophy professor in the ruins of the School of Athens.”
He sighs wistfully. “Have you been there?”
“The ruins of the School of Athens? No. Greece? Yes. Once, when I was twelve. We went back to see grandma’s old country before she died. She grew up in this tiny little village a few miles from the coast. She lived in an ancient stone house that’s been there for hundreds of years. A distant cousin still lives in it. Paulo Nikas.”
“Only two names?” he asks.
I laugh. “Very doubtful, but I don’t remember his others. Anyway, we went to mass in this old church that has gorgeous stained glass and this really ornate altar. It was so pretty. If I ever go back, I’ll go to mass, just to make my grandmother happy.”
“Hmmm,” he says, playing with my hair. “If we were going to be together, we’d go to Paulo’s house and I’d go to mass with you, in honor of your grandmother.”
I pull up and look at him. “You would?”
He smiles and nods. “Mmm-hmmm.”
I smile and put my head back on his chest. “You’re not afraid of being struck by lightning, you heathen?”
He laughs and I hear the deep echo of it in his chest. I squeeze him tighter.
“If we were going to be together, I would get to meet your family,” I say.
He sighs. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s encouraging.”
“It’s not you, baby. My family’s just...”
The silence becomes uncomfortable. “You don’t think they’d like me?”
“I think they’d love you. But probably for all the wrong reasons. At least at first.”
I put my chin on his chest, looking up at him.
“They care an awful lot about money,” he says apologetically.
“Oh.” I put my head back down.
“They’re not terrible people, but I’ve never understood their thinking about that. Two of my brothers are physicians, one’s a very successful lawyer in Chicago with my dad. And that’s great and everything. They’re smart and they work hard and I’m happy if they’re happy. But from where I’m standing, it looks like they’re always busy and always stressed and always worrying about upgrading to the newest model car.”
He takes a quick breath. I’ve hit a nerve.
“When I told my parents I wanted to be a philosophy professor, my father thought I was throwing my life away. Even my brothers got in on it. My brother Alvin called me a fool and said I’d always be scraping for money and miss the kind of life I was used to.”
These are Shane’s brothers? They sound nothing like him.
“I just... didn’t... want any of part of that lifestyle. I don’t much see the point of working so hard to make sure you can always look down your nose at everyone else.”
“You know, I’ve been exposed to plenty of families like that, but I’ve never understood it either. It’s not like you said you wanted to deal crack or something. I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
“Your family’s... not like that?”
“God no,” I say forcefully, then remember I’m talking about his family and, in spite of any differences he may have with them, he probably loves them. “Sorry,” I say softly. “But no. They’re not.”
“So, if... you know, if we were able to be together,” he says, repeating the game’s phrase, “and you brought me home... you’re sure they wouldn’t think you were marrying down?”
“No, sweetie. I guarantee you, my mother would be far more concerned about the fact that you’re an atheist.”
He laughs. “Everyone has their own prejudices, I guess.”
I smile. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
“So if we were able to be together, we would make stuff like that work.”
“By living as far away from family as possible,” I say.
He laughs again. “Sounds like a plan.”
It does sound like a plan.
But then I remember we’re playing the “what if” game, and none of that’s going to happen. My smile slowly fades until I’m lying there holding Shane remembering that our days are numbered. Three months from now, it’ll all be over.
Maybe he’s thinking the same thing, because we just lie there holding each other for a very long time, and neither one of us says a word.
Chapter 22
All during the following week, the conversations at the apartment revolve around Chloe and Brad’s upcoming nuptials. The girls and I spend hours combing through Pinterest and pinning ideas onto boards for dresses, decorations, food, and honeymoon ideas.
When I’m with them and participating, it’s fun.
I’m happy for Chloe and happy to see the glow on her face. She and Brad have been together for a long time and she was starting to really stress about it. Now she’s happy, and that makes me happy.
It’s when I’m on my way to Shane’s that it all catches up to me. Chloe gets to not only have her relationship with Brad out in the open, but she gets to keep him forever. School is over in six weeks and my lease is up in ten.
I can’t even bring myself to look for new apartments online. I’ll do that next week.
Which is what I said last week, but still.
All I want right now is to get to Shane’s and be in his arms and pretend none of this is happening.
When I pull into the drive, he’s leaning against the garage waiting for me, as he sometimes does. His arms are folded over his chest and he’s giving me the most heart-stopping sexy look.
I smile broadly at the sight of him. Oh, I needed
this greeting today. Like magic, my stress and worry melts away.
As I get out of the car, he saunters over to me.
“Hey, sexy,” I say with a grin. “Did you miss me?”
“Hm-hmmm,” he says. “It’s been too long.”
It’s only been sixteen hours, but I feel the same way.
As he brings his hands to my upper arms, looking ready to give me a kiss, his eyes dart to the road behind me.
“What the hell?” he says.
I spin around. Just before Shane grabs me and pulls me out of sight, I see Justin Kirby in his red Charger, his arm extended out the open window, and a phone in his hand like he’s taking pictures.
As I’m yanked to the side and out of view of the street, I catch myself against Shane’s chest. We look at each other with horrified eyes as we hear the car speeding away, tires squealing.
I don’t stay.
When I get back to the apartment, the only ones still there are Chloe and Ashley. I immediately tell them what happened.
We’re gathered in the living room; they’re both on the couch, but I’m sitting cross legged on the floor, my arms and chin resting on the coffee table. I don’t have the energy to get into a regular seat.
“I’m telling you, that guy’s been stalking you,” Ashley says.
“Or he started to after he saw the two of you at the pool before break,” Chloe says.
I bury my head in my arms. “It doesn’t matter. What’s he going to do with those pictures? This is driving me crazy.”
“That rat bastard better not try to blackmail you,” Chloe says, “or I’m gonna kick his ass.”
I’m still terrified, but I appreciate Chloe’s fervor, since Sam’s not here to provide it.
But as I think about it, I realize Chloe may be on to something. That bastard could want something. I can think of only two things Justin Kirby might want from me: sex or money. Or maybe both.
I groan.
“Maybe nothing will happen,” Ashley says. “Maybe he just wants to be able to torment you more?”
We all know she’s grasping at straws, but no one seems to want to say so.
