by Avery Flynn
“I never wanted to leave you,” he confessed. “And, before you argue with me, let me show you rather than trying to find the words.”
She wasn’t sure how he could prove that statement, but she was willing to hear him out.
But he didn’t say more. Instead, his mouth covered hers in another of those soul drugging kisses. Unlike before, their bodies were pressed together, so it felt like her whole world was Ollie. When his tongue teased hers, she responded in kind, battling him for dominance even as her pulse soared. But his lips escaped hers, as he dragged open mouthed kisses down her neck. “Sit up,” he demanded. “I want to get to know you.”
She rolled her eyes at that one. They already knew one another—always had. But she humored him. They faced one another on the bed, cross-legged, as he began his exploration with her hand. He took one palm into both of his and stroked across each finger before kissing each fingertip. When he’d finished, she bit back a moan. Something about the sight and feel of his mouth sucking on her fingers made her tremble deep inside. He placed her palm on his chest and edged closer, tracing her face with his hands before peppering her with chaste little kisses. But his eyes weren’t innocent in the least.
They were sinful, his jaw clenched as he appeared to give into hungers older than time itself. She echoed his movements, slowly touching his skin to see which parts made him shiver. Which parts quickened his breath. The spot above his waist, that curve toward his groin, was particularly sensitive. He rolled to his side and she copied him, so they were facing one another as they continued to slowly tease each other past reason.
She didn’t know how they found the reserve to go slowly, but he continued to touch her while she learned about him. She was gasping by the time he lifted her leg onto his hip so he could move his hand between her legs. His cock was hot velvet, so soft and yet so hard in her palm. She would’ve given herself more time to figure out what way he liked to be touched, if he hadn’t circled her clit with his thumb.
Crying out, she bucked into his touch, so close already that tears pricked at her eyes. “Ollie,” she whispered.
“Let it happen, my lovely Maisie. Let it happen for me. I want to see.”
His words further enflamed her, and his touch hadn’t slowed. He lifted his leg slightly, which opened her more to his view since her leg was on his hip. Seeing the way he watched combined with his touch to send her soaring. She hadn’t come down, still breathless with it, when he nudged his hips closer. Riding the ridge of his cock, she gripped his back to pull him near. To bring him home.
But he resisted, waiting until she climbed again. Waiting until his kisses and touch had her moaning his name.
Then, finally, he pushed inside her.
They both stilled, as if to revel in that moment. The only sound in the room was their breath and the rapid sound of her pulse in her ears. Everything narrowed down to that connection, to the sensation of him inside her. Filling her. Completing her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.
In that moment, the birds didn’t chirp. The earth didn’t spin. There was nothing outside the way they fit perfectly together, two puzzle pieces finally snapped into place after one was lost for so very long.
When she couldn’t resist any longer, her muscles clenched around him and he groaned. Only seconds, he lasted like that, before he rolled her onto her back. He caught her legs, lifting them, and she wrapped them around him for leverage. Then they were moving, driving upward to the top of the sensation roller coaster before screaming as they plunged headfirst into an electrical storm of completion.
He’d gone limp above her, weighing her down with his body. She could barely breathe, but it wasn’t because he was on top of her. It was because she was both crying and overjoyed, all at once.
He realized she was crying and touched her cheeks, brushing away the moisture before placing his lips on her skin. “Don’t cry, my Maisie. I’m here. I’m here.”
They rolled until he was on his back and she lay against him. Her head fell into that perfect cradle of his shoulder, and he hugged her close. “This is my spot,” she whispered on a yawn.
She wasn’t sure if she dreamed it or not, but she would’ve sworn she heard him whisper back, “Always.”
10
Present
Ollie woke up before she did, not even sure how he’d fallen asleep. Her body curled against his, her breaths even and relaxed, and he thought about all that had happened since he’d come back to town.
Maybe he thought he came home because of obligation, but he knew himself well enough to own the truth. He’d come home for her. He stayed away because he thought she’d be better off without him—untainted by the dark—but he needed her too much to stay away anymore.
She was light. She was joy. She was his sanity. She’d always been, somehow, even when she was nothing more than a kid. Back then, he’d understood that Jay liked the same things as him, but they never shared the kind of instant and complete connection he had with Maisie.
Only Maisie got that moving to a small town after living in the City would be hard. That he would rather have stayed with his parents, and felt a little rejected to have been foisted off on his grandparents like an inconvenience.
Nobody else really saw the lonely little boy, and she remained the only one who really saw him as a teenager. He hung out at their house a lot, but not just because he was friends with Jay. It was because he liked seeing the way they interacted. They had a family.
Not that his grandparents weren’t great—they were. He’d loved them deeply. But they already raised their kids, and he understood on a bone deep level what a burden he was. That he wasn’t their grandkid, not anymore, when they took him in. And Maisie was the only one he’d told about any of it.
She’d talked to him, yes—hell, she practically talked his ear off. And he listened, but he was pretty sure it was because she heard him, too.
He didn’t know the woman she’d become, not on any logical level. But he knew who she was inside.
And that mattered. In a world where so little made sense or was anything more than him placing one foot in front of the other, Maisie represented something spiritual to him.
She always had.
Her fingers flexed against his chest, as if she wanted him to pull her closer, so he gave into his urges. He hugged her tighter against him, smiling as she nuzzled into the spot she’d claimed was hers so very long ago. He’d kept that spot for her—no other woman rested her head in that special place, even if he plunged himself between their legs. Because Maisie.
He watched her wake slowly, lashes twitching against her cheeks before finally revealing the brilliance of her eyes. When she finally looked at him, she sighed. She didn’t smile, but he understood before she spoke what she felt.
They were together. Like they’d always planned. And he wasn’t letting her go.
“I want to show you something,” he said.
She quirked one brow. “Does it involve you getting out of this bed and leaving my side?”
He laughed, the rumble of it jiggling her head. “Yeah, it does.”
“Then it can wait.” Like it’d never ended, she wrapped herself around him, drowning him with a kiss and drawing him back into the maelstrom. She wasn’t allowing him to call the shots this time, rising above him to take her pleasure.
“You’re greedy,” he groaned, feeling her slick little slit ride against his cock. The motion sent sparks of pleasure down his spine, gathering in his balls until his cock was so hard, he feared he’d spill like a horny teenager before he even got inside her.
“You love it,” she whispered. When she took him into her body, he gripped her breasts, toying with her nipples until her tiny moans became louder groans. “Ollie,” she gasped.
“Mine,” he answered. Bucking his hips, he guided hers with his palms, moving her faster until she seemed to go blind with her needs. Her nails scraped him, and his pulse beat in a frenzy. He could never get enough of her flavor,
of the sounds she was making, of her.
“Yours,” she agreed. And for some reason, the word sent him over the edge. He felt her clenching around him, the movement only making his orgasm more intense, until he dug his heels into the bed to try to ground them both.
She sagged to his chest, as if she’d gone boneless with her climax, and he stroked her back gently. He couldn’t catch his breath, dizzy from the feel and flavor of her all over his body. He felt drenched in Maisie, and it was the most wonderful thing in his whole life.
Before she could tempt him into another round, he nudged her to the mattress. “Wait here,” he requested.
She sighed, and shook her head. “This better be worth it.”
He hoped it was. Grabbing his wallet, he then returned to the bed, sitting cross legged in front of her prone form. Her body was so gorgeous. His dick twitched, but he refused to acknowledge it.
“So, they’re coming with the Cup today, and I do have to get out of bed to show up for pictures, but I’d like you to go with me.” He was surprised at how hard it was to say, at how shy he suddenly felt, but he shrugged it off.
“People will think something, if I do that,” she warned.
“They wouldn’t be wrong, would they?” he asked. For a few breathless seconds, she made him suffer. She made him wait for her answer.
“Not in regard to me,” she answered. Rolling away from him, she buried her face in the pillow. He couldn’t hear what she said, only that she said something into the fabric.
“What was that?” he asked.
She punched the pillow before sitting up to face him head on. “Look, I wanted you. I feel things for you that I am not altogether sure you feel for me. And if this is just some blissful little interlude in our lives, and you think you’re going to leave me again, I’d rather not have a hundred pictures to remind me of it.”
She was being honest, and he could tell the words cost her. The blanket was clutched to cover her, although she’d not acted shy before that moment. She never hid from him before.
But it was good. They needed to say the words.
“It isn’t an interlude for me. And I kept you with me… even when I was gone. I never stopped loving you, Maisie.”
She blinked at him, processing his words, before shaking her head. He could tell she didn’t believe him, but he’d expected that. “Ollie…”
“I took you with me, every step of the way. I told myself I left to protect you, but I couldn’t let you go. Not here. Not where it matters.” He tapped his chest, gesturing to his heart.
“That’s sweet of you to say, but…”
He dropped the wallet onto the mattress so he could take both her hands in his own. “No buts. I promise, I never stopped loving you. I even have proof.”
Her expression transitioned from doubting to shock and then to confusion so fast, he had a rough time reading all the shifting emotions. “Proof?”
“Yeah, proof.” He let her go to open the wallet. Inside, the paper was tattered, even though he’d had it laminated at some point along the way. It looked rough, but that was because he kept it with him always. At night, he kept it in his hands or under his pillow. During the day, it was in his wallet. Never did he let go of the words on that tattered scrap of paper, but he could now.
He passed her the paper, and she let out a tiny choked laugh. “The page from my dream journal?”
“Is that what it was?” It felt more personal than sex to hand over the document, but for her, he could be stripped bare.
“Yeah. I have no clue why I thought you needed this. Especially with all that happened…” She laughed again, still looking a bit confused as she met his eyes. “Why on earth did you keep it?”
“I would read the words, Maisie. I read the words, and I hoped you’d know somehow that I read them. Over and over. Ever since you stuck it underneath my controller so very long ago.”
She spread the small piece of paper out, tracing the silly heart she’d drawn with one fingertip. “It just says, I think I love Oliver Atticus Tremblay. And he loves me,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“It was silly words, written by a silly teenager, obsessed with the boy next door.” She shook her head again. “I don’t get it?”
He heard the question in her tone, and he pulled her closer so that he could look her right in the eyes. “You said you thought you loved me. And that you knew I loved you.”
“Ollie,” she whispered. Her voice trembled, just a little. The sound of it wrenched his heart, but it wasn’t his heart. Hadn’t been, not since he gave it to her years ago.
“I survived, succeeded, and kept going on because I knew, no matter what corner of the world I was in, you were out there somewhere. And that you knew I loved you. And that was enough.”
Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she moved into his embrace. He held her tight. “I needed to know you knew that. Even when the world ended, that mattered, Maisie. You mattered.”
11
June 5th, 1997
The sun beat down like a thousand fists, leaving Maisie sweating under the uncomfortable plastic-like collar of the gray velour dress. Her mom made her wear it to the picnic, saying something about first impressions. The only first impression she was likely to give the neighbors was that she was made of sweat.
She’d wanted to stay home and play with her dolls. But, as Jay pointed out with a shove, she was just a big baby and not allowed to stay home alone. What did she care if some kid was going to be staying with Nana Tremblay? So what if she supposedly played with him as a baby?
She didn’t care. She didn’t want to meet him.
Besides, in her opinion, he was an idiot. Apparently his parents worked in the city, and Nana Tremblay was his grandma. Since there was something about the schools in the City, he was going to stay with his grandparents during the week and go to school with them now, while his parents continued to work in the City, only visiting him on weekends.
Who did that? Who ditched their kid with their parents for a whole week for an entire school year? Sure, they’d said that the parents owned a house right in town, so they’d all stay there when they weren’t at work, but the rest of the week, he’d be stuck with his grandparents.
If anyone asked her—which they never did—she’d rather live in the City. She read books about characters who lived in cities, and it seemed so much more exciting than small town life. Nothing ever happened in small towns.
Unless they considered going to lame picnics with strangers a good time.
Her mom was knocking on Nana Tremblay’s door while Maisie shuffled from foot to foot. So, she’d drink some tea, eat some food, wander around the backyard, and before she knew it, they could go home. She could do this. No biggie.
But when the door opened, she froze in place. The boy was handsome. Like something off the pages of one of her magazines. Like the pictures of boys that she taped to her walls. He was…
Really hot.
She giggled to herself, covering her mouth with her hand. Not that he noticed. He only had eyes for Jay, shaking his hand and saying something that sounded like, “Good to see you.” Wait, that’s right. Her parents said they’d met before, not that she could remember it.
How had she met such a cute guy and totally forgotten it?
Shoving past her parents, she stood gazing up at the boy. He was taller than her, but skinny. His hair was like a mop of darkness, hanging just over his eyes. Sticking out her hand, she said, “I’m Maisie.”
Instead of ignoring her or laughing at her—as Jay would’ve done—he reached out his own palm and took hers. “Hiya, Maisie. I’m Ollie. We met before… a few Christmases ago, I think.”
“I don’t remember you,” she admitted honestly.
He gave her this half smile that seemed to light her up inside. “That’s cool. Do you play video games?”
No, she did not. Her heart sank.
“Which games do you have?” Jay asked, apparently bored
with being ignored. The adults had walked past them, into the living room, and Maisie was again made aware of her ugly gray dress and how itchy the collar was. There was no way Ollie would notice her, not with the distraction of video games and Jay. She finally met a cute boy, and he was going to ignore her. Perfect.
“I have a bunch of them. They let me have a TV in my room. I guess that’s my reward for being banished to the country.” The boy laughed, but he looked sad. He ran a hand through his hair, studying Jay. “It is so weird to get to talk to you in person after so long. We’ve been pen pals for ages.”
Maisie forgot about that—how they’d written each other and how he sometimes sent Jay postcards from the City. They had an established friendship.
She was the boring little sister. The odd man out. The freak in the itchy dress.
The boy was saying something to Jay, and she followed them up the stairs. It was better to be ignored by other teenagers—because that was what she considered herself, even if she wasn’t quite one in actual age, yet—than it was to be ignored by adults. At the top of the stairs, the guy paused outside his door. “You never answered me,” he said to Maisie. “Do you play video games, too? Because we can take turns with the second controller. You know, loser sits out every other round…”
“No,” she admitted. “I suck at video games.”
With his hand on the doorknob, he considered this. Looking at Jay, he said, “Hey, what if we game later? I want to show you guys something.”
The boy pounded back down the stairs, and Jay glared at Maisie. She shrugged. It wasn’t her fault, she was only being honest. But then Jay was following Ollie, and she trailed after them both.
“Grandma, Grandpa, can I go show them my secret spot?” Ollie was asking the assembled adults.
Her parents were talking animatedly to Ollie’s parents, while the grandparents sat back and reclined in their comfy chairs. Maisie found it rather telling that Ollie chose to ask them than his parents—who did that?
But his grandmother nodded, and they were pounding out the back door of the house. Ollie headed right for the woods, and Maisie glared at her patent leather shoes for only a moment before sighing and following. Wherever they were going, she probably wasn’t dressed for the occasion, but it still beat being bored with the adults.
