by Beth Michele
“Cat got your tongue?” I tease, throwing his words back at him.
“Come over here, you,” he demands, then kisses me hard on the lips. “That felt fucking fantastic.”
“I’m glad.” I lay my head on his chest, drawing patterns on his skin. “You know… I’ve never let anyone do that to me before… I mean,” I utter quietly, “what you did last night.”
“Going down on you?” He says it nonchalantly but it still makes my cheeks turn forty different shades of red… and I just swallowed.
“Yeah.” I lift my head and he gives me a full-on toothy grin.
“Wow. I won’t deny that makes me really happy… that I could be your first. I…,” he pauses and looks away before meeting my eyes again, “I wish I could’ve been all your firsts.”
I tip my head to the side and sigh, eyes roaming his face. “Me, too, but… I think you have been, Dylan. In all the ways that count.” His gaze softens and he interlocks our fingers together, settling them on his chest. I drop a kiss on his shoulder, then relax my head back against it.
“So, I wanted to tell you something.” There’s a nervous quality in his tone and I bite my lip, waiting for what he’s going to say. “I filled out an application this morning for college… for graphic design at Parsons… in New York.”
“That’s amazing.” And it is, except for the way my stomach drops when I hear New York. “So, did you mail it?”
“Not yet.”
“Dylan, the filling out is important, but it’s the mailing that’s the key.” He pinches my waist and I wriggle against him.
“Yeah, I know that, smartass.” He rests his chin on my head and exhales. “I even drove by the mailbox this morning on the way to the diner, but I didn’t do it.”
“Look at it this way, there’s nothing to say that you’ll get in, so you might as well just mail the thing.”
He chuckles, the warm vibration moving through me. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hopper. Hey,” his voice is like silk to my ears, “look at me,” he urges, his dimple showing when I raise my head. “You’ve inspired me, Evie. You’re so strong, you know? You work your ass off at the salon, knowing where you want to be. After your parents died, you carried on, you got through it, with such grace.”
My heart squeezes at the utter sincerity in his gaze.
“You take charge of your life, own your happiness. Whereas me, I messed up, had a hard time handling it. I guess in my head,” the light in his eyes dims, “I’m still that little boy who doesn’t think he’s good enough.”
Little pieces of me break apart at his confession because I know he’s so deserving. And because nothing that happened was his fault.
I smooth the hair from his eyes, wanting so desperately to see them shine again. “Dylan… I know you’re afraid. I don’t think there’s a single person out there who’s not afraid. But let that drive you… push you toward greatness. Because you’ve been given gifts, and I don’t believe you were given those gifts so they could be wasted.”
There’s so much admiration in his stare that my limbs get all tingly. “How’d you get to be so smart, anyway?”
“Eh. You know, the usual. I was born with it—”
He cuts my words off with a kiss that curls my toes and stirs up emotion in my heart. It’s one that is filled with promise, and as he wraps his tongue around mine, I hope he can feel what I’m promising, too.
“Dylan,” I whisper reluctantly as our kiss becomes lighter, “I have to get ready for work.”
“Mmmm, are you sure?” he breathes, tugging on my bottom lip. “I wanted to ravage your body.”
“Don’t tempt me. But,” I rub my breasts against his chest and he groans, “you can ravage me tonight.” I roll away from him quickly and he smacks my ass.
“So sexy, Hopper,” he tells me, and it makes me want to climb back in bed with him. Instead, I wiggle my ass as I wander off to the bathroom, grinning like a loon the entire time.
When I come back, he’s already dressed and perched on the edge of the bed.
“Play hooky with me today.” His big, brown eyes are pleading and hard to resist. Not that I want to. He tugs on my arm and I fall onto his lap with a giggle. His nose skims the length of my neck, ending with a wet kiss behind my ear that makes me shiver. “I want to take you out… on a real date,” he whispers.
“Wait,” I push off of his lap, planting a hand on my hip, “are you asking me or telling me? Because I like to be asked,” I counter, and he closes the distance between us.
“Oh, you do, huh?” The dimple on the side of his face deepens as his arms encircle my waist, his lips finding my chin.
“Yes.”
“Evie Carmichael,” he begins, the depth of his stare making my legs turn to Jell-O, “will you go out with me today?”
“Maybe.” I try to maintain a poker face, but I never was any good at cards.
“Good. I’ll take that as a yes. Be ready in fifteen minutes.” He brushes the backs of his fingers down my cheek, and my eyes close as he places a whisper-soft kiss on my lips. “Until then, beautiful.”
I open my eyes and he’s gone from my room, but filling up every space in my heart.
With yet another sigh, I bring myself back down to earth as I get dressed. I have no idea what we’re doing so I opt for a tank and a colorful, frilly skirt. I slick my hair back into a high ponytail, and then finish off with some lip gloss. When I see another note sitting next to my watch on the side table, I practically trip over my own feet getting to it.
He wanted her in a way he’d never wanted anyone before, his heart only knowing how to beat when she was beside him.
A tear slips from my eye, dropping against the hand that’s now pressed to my chest, with no hope of slowing down my heart.
“I love you, Dylan Reid.” I say it out loud, into the air, setting it free….
And maybe setting myself free, too.
PULSES OF EXCITEMENT drown out my patience, and I’m practically dancing across the street. As soon as I hit the porch, I shake out my hands, hoping it might calm me down. When that doesn’t work, I opt for courage, reaching out to knock on the door at the same time Dylan opens it.
“Hey,” he greets with a huge smile, “I was just coming for you.”
“Yeah, well, I was ready so I figured I’d beat you to it,” I tell him, as I slowly appraise the snug black t-shirt and loose-fitting jeans he’s wearing. I snap my eyes up when I realize I’m staring.
“Evie,” he cups my chin, “I like it when you stare at me. You don’t have to try to hide it.” I bite my lip and he yanks it free. “Besides,” he adds, “when you’re irresistible, it kind of comes with the territory.”
“Ha!” I laugh, and he drapes an arm over my shoulder, leading us toward the truck. He opens the door to help me up when I spot a big lump under a blanket in the back. “What’s going on over there?” I gesture toward the blue fabric. “We burying a body or something?”
“Hopper, you’re reading my mind. That was top on my list of romantic dates.” With a light tap, he pushes me into the truck and closes the door. He’s still chuckling when he gets in on the driver’s side. “You want to know what we’re doing?” His hands remain on the wheel, but he turns to face me. “We’re doing something for the first time together, something we’ve never done.”
Of course, my mind goes right in the gutter and I smirk. “Hmmm… that could be many things.”
“Save that imagination for later,” he encourages with another chuckle, peeling the truck out of the driveway and heading where, I have no idea.
Instead of trying to figure it out, I kick off my Chucks, lean back against the seat, and stick my feet out the window.
“You’re in charge of the music.” He pops the lock on the center console. “Have at it.”
My musical tastes are pretty eclectic, so I choose a variety of artists, from Ed Sheeran which is a given, to Coldplay, A Great Big World, Colbie Caillat, and The Lumineers. The sound be
gins to flow through the speakers and I close my eyes, letting it take me away. That and Dylan reaching for my hand send tiny sparks of happiness coursing through my veins.
“This is so much better than being at work, isn’t it?” His voice carries over the music and the subtle breeze drifting in through the windows.
“Yes, it is.” I toss him a sideways glance, smiling at the sight of him in his aviator sunglasses, one hand on the wheel, the other in mine. He seems so relaxed, and that makes my boss’s irritated tone when I told her I wasn’t coming in today, a distant memory. “I’m glad you talked me into it. You can be very persuasive when you want to be.”
He squeezes my hand, and I find myself unable to stop staring at him. My chest is bursting with emotion. While I may not be able to say those three monumental words yet, words that I know will change everything, it doesn’t stop the gallop of my heart, overpowering all rational thought.
“What?” His eyes leave the road for a second to meet mine.
“Nothing. I’m just…,” I shrug, “happy.”
“Me too.” His gaze focuses on the highway again, but his grin is unmistakable.
A few minutes pass as I’m listening to music, lost in my happy little bubble, when the car suddenly swerves to the right. My body twists, the back of my head landing with a thump against the window.
“Dylan, what are you doing!”
Unaffected by my screaming, he throws the gear shift into park, and crawls across the ripped leather seat and over my body. His breathing is harsh and heavy against my chin. His eyes are focused solely on my mouth and I lick my lips to soothe the burn of his gaze.
“Now that I know I can kiss you,” he murmurs, hovering over me, “I want to kiss you whenever I want.”
“So, what are you waiting for?” I encourage, watching his thick lashes drop against his cheeks before his eager lips meet mine. It’s a tender kiss, but he’s making me hot as he sucks my lower lip into his mouth then pushes his tongue inside. I open for him, groaning as our tongues collide. His hand comes up to cup my face, holding me as we get lost over and over again.
When we finally come up for air, Dylan laughs. “Jesus, Evie, what you do to me. You have no idea how much I wish I had a back seat right now.”
“Oh, I think I might have some idea.” I smirk, adjusting my bra when he slides off of me and back behind the wheel. He starts the engine and pulls out onto the highway, but resumes holding my hand as we press on toward our destination. Of course, I’m still thinking about our kiss, among other things.
About a half hour later, when it seems we’ve been driving forever, Dylan finally veers off through the entrance of what looks like a huge campground.
“What is this place?” I sit up and survey the wide-open space, invaded only by magnificent old trees, a few benches, and a sprawling lake. “Oh my Gosh, Dylan. Shellfield Island. I almost didn’t recognize it. It’s been so long since I’ve been here.”
“Remember when Gran and Grandpa used to take Jordan and me here when we were kids? For some reason it occurred to me today that you hadn’t been here since we were little, so I wanted to take you.”
He hops out of the car and swings around to the passenger side, holding the door open for me. I jump down, landing right in his arms and he kisses me soundly on the lips.
“Welcome back to Shellfield Island, Hopper.” Nodding his head toward the back of the truck, he adds, “Let’s go get the body so we can find a good spot.”
“Do you need help?” I watch him trying to maneuver this thing he’s hiding, unable to fathom for the life of me what’s under that blanket.
“Nah, I’m good. Actually,” he shifts to his right, handing me a picnic basket, “could you just hold this?”
“Sure.” I clasp onto the handles then follow behind him. He keeps walking until we come to a large clearing, then sets the blanket down and steps back.
“You ready?”
“I think so.” I back up a few feet, not wanting to get too close. “It’s not a bomb is it?”
“No, funny girl, it’s not a bomb.” His hand grips the blanket and he pulls it off like a magician, revealing a rocket that has to be nearly four-feet tall. I’ve seen the rockets he’s made over the years, but we’ve never shot one off together.
It might seem like a silly gesture to someone else, but it’s his way of letting me be a part of something that’s had significance in his life—and to me, that’s everything.
“Dylan, it’s fantastic. I love the oranges and yellows you used to paint it. Come on, let’s shoot that sucker into the air.” I place the basket on the ground and move to where he’s setting up the base.
He presses his lips to my forehead, grinning against my skin. “You never cease to amaze me, you know that? I mean, I know this isn’t the most romantic date—”
“Okay,” I raise my hand, “stop.” I don’t let him carry on. Instead, I tip my head back, ensuring he can see my eyes. “I love that you brought me back here. So stop with the disclaimers and let’s get on with it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he retorts and I snarl at him. “Okay, help me with the controls and we’ll do a countdown.” His hand is on the remote and I cover it with mine. The dial rotates to the right as we slowly turn it and begin to count.
“Five. Four. Three. Two. One….”
We push the button and the rocket sails into the air, high enough that it becomes nothing more than a tiny speck amidst the clouds. With our eyes glued to the sky, we watch and wait until we finally catch a glimpse of the parachute. Bursts of orange and yellow float in the air, a lazy drift of color echoing the rays of the sun.
“Woohoo!” I shout, and Dylan cracks up, bending over at the knees he’s laughing so hard. I shrug my shoulders with a smile, heading over to pick up what I assume is our lunch. “Okay, that was exhausting. Let’s eat.” I lift the basket, waving it at him. “There is food in here, right?”
“Yes.” He goes around and collects the rocket, its base, and the wiring. “Let me just toss this stuff in the truck.” A minute later he returns holding only the blanket, but wearing a smile that stops me in my tracks. “I’m glad I brought you here.”
“Me too.” He laces our fingers together and we find a spot by the lake. There are only a few people here, so we practically have the place to ourselves. I help him spread out the blanket on a flat patch of grass and we settle down on it. “So, what’s for lunch?”
“Let’s see,” he digs through the basket, pulling things out one at a time, “peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with two tablespoons of peanut butter,” he winks, “potato chips, and leftover chocolate-covered strawberries. Oh, and I have that Fiji spring water you like.” He chuckles, passing one to me. “Gran actually bought that at the store. You know I can’t tell one water from the next. They all taste the same.”
“Thanks. I’m starving.” I unwrap the sandwich and take a huge bite, savoring the combination of the nutty flavor with the sweet jelly.
“You’re always starving,” he teases, and he’s right. I’ve had a high metabolism since I was young. Food seems to burn up the moment I eat it, but for some odd reason, I still measure my peanut butter.
“It’s really pretty here.” The rippling sound of water against the lake serves to calm me. “If I remember correctly, the last time I was here you were determined to fly that eagle kite that ended up getting caught in a tree.”
“Yup.” He pops open a bag, crunching on a potato chip. “I remember being really mad, too, because I loved that kite. Gran and Grandpa kept bringing us here when they’d visit though. They said something about wild animals needing to run around until we were too exhausted to stand up. That was before I figured out this was a great place to launch rockets.”
“How much longer is she staying?” I finish half of the sandwich and wrap the other half in plastic, placing it back in the basket.
“She’s leaving tomorrow.” I don’t miss the sigh that follows his words. It has to be hard to see her go
. I know how much he loves her. Gran was more like a mother to him than his own mom. Even I get a lump in my throat when I think about it, knowing how important a role she’s played in his life. She was also an integral part of mine, especially after my parents died.
“Hey, Dylan?” I bring my knees up, hugging them to my chest.
“Yeah?” He responds, shoving a bunch of chips in his mouth all at once.
“The notes. Your writing, it’s… beautiful.” The crunching ceases and his gaze remains somewhere far off in the distance. “I-I had no idea. How come I didn’t know that about you? I thought I knew everything about you.”
He slaps his hands together, brushing the crumbs away. “No one knows. I never told anyone.”
“Why not?”
“My dad, he found some things I’d written when I was young, and let’s just say he didn’t take too kindly to them. Didn’t think they were,” he makes finger quotes, ‘very masculine.’ Of course, those weren’t his exact words, they were much harsher. So…,” his shoulders sag on a heavy breath, “I hid it from everyone, even you.”
I’m quiet as I think about this, but he fills the silence before I have a chance to speak again.
“You see the thing is….” He looks over at me for a long moment, vulnerable brown eyes tugging on my heartstrings. I want to get lost in the emotion, when that familiar sense of fear and loss creep over my skin. But I blink to push it far, far away. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. “I can’t hold it back from you. You bring it out in me. You make my heart sing, Evie. Always have.”
A gasp falls from my open lips as he cradles my face, resting his forehead against mine. I close my eyes, absorbing this moment and the weight of his words. Words that make me want to clutch at my chest in disbelief, in joy, in the purest form of happiness.
Softly, and ever so sweetly, he holds my cheeks in his palms, kissing me, almost as if I’m fragile. Then he pulls me down on the blanket with him and I nestle into his side. My arm lies across his chest, our legs intertwined. Neither of us says anything after that, the smiles on our faces and the rapid beating of our hearts speaking louder than any words ever could.
