Forgetting August (Lost & Found #1)

by J. L. Berg

  Silence followed as he looked down at his greasy burger.

  “Well, he’s not here anymore—so I say we make new memories.”

  “I’d like that,” I smiled widely, remembering the days when birthdays had been celebrated over fries and milkshakes rather than champagne and caviar.

  “There’s just one problem,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know when your birthday is,” he smiled.

  Loud laughter burst from my lungs as I clutched his shoulder, resting my head there as I caught my breath.

  “June fifteenth!” I squealed between breaths.

  “June fifteenth,” he repeated. “Got it. I’m on it.”

  “So what else did you learn about me in that box?” I asked, picking the pickles off my burger as he watched.

  “Apparently not enough,” he grinned. “Not a pickle fan?”

  “Not on my burgers.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Come on! Tell me more—stop stalling!” I demanded, as he snagged my pickle slices off my paper wrapper and tossed them in his mouth.

  “Well,” he said, “I noticed that you’re extremely photogenic. After an entire box full of photos of your face, I’m itching to get you behind the lens.”

  Finishing up my food, I threw all of our trash into the brown bag and leaned back into the couch, facing him.

  “That sounds kind of sexy,” I said, running my fingers down the buttons of his shirt.

  His eyes caught mine and I saw just a hint of movement as a tiny smirk pulled at the seam of his mouth. “It could be.”

  “Would you photograph this?” I asked, slowly unbuttoning the first four buttons of my blouse, until the sheer lace of my bra began to peak through.

  “Yes,” he answered, his voice dropping an entire octave.

  “What about this?” My fingers went to the fly of my jeans.

  “Wait. Just one second. Let me get a camera,” he said eagerly, running to the other room. He reappeared in record time, with his vintage black and white. He’d also removed his shirt, which gave me a nice view of his lean abs and muscular arms.

  “Take off your pants. I want a few in just your shirt and panties.” His breath was uneven, as if he’d just been for a jog. Looking up at him caused my legs to squeeze together in need.

  Just the mere thought of capturing my image with his lens seemed to be making him nearly wild. I slipped off my jeans and lay back on the couch, dangling my feet off the edge in a flirty position I knew would send him off the deep end.

  “Have you done this before? Shit, don’t answer that,” he said, as the camera started clicking.

  I laughed, turning my head away as he hovered above me. “No—I just know what you like.”

  “Yes, you really do.”

  “Like, maybe a little bit of this?” I asked, unbuttoning my shirt completely and letting it slip from my shoulder. It fell to the floor in a slinky heap. Pushing up on my elbows, I gave him a sultry look as my cleavage was sent sky high thanks to my new, improved position.

  “You are so beautiful,” he managed to say as he knelt down on his knees to get a different angle. “Let me just open the windows. I want more light on your skin.”

  I watched him move toward the large windows that faced the cliffs, pushing back the curtains that were used to block out the sun when it became too bright late in the afternoon. Right now, sunset was just about to take over the sky, the last rays of the day surrendering to the evening stars.

  “Perfect.” His voice followed his footsteps as he made his way back to the couch. “Now, I think you need to get naked.”

  I agreed, reaching for the clasp behind me. My bra came undone easily and slowly fell from my shoulders, as the camera clicked away. Raising one arm at a time, I let it fall to the floor as his heated gaze watched from behind the lens.

  Wanting him to enjoy this as much as possible, I slowly stood, widening my stance as my fingers slipped under the thin fabric of my panties. August backed up, readjusting the angle to encompass my new position, as the camera continued to click. With a sensual grace I hadn’t known I possessed, I gently slid the last piece of clothing from my body until it hit the floor.

  I heard the camera hit the glass of the coffee table as August quickly setting it down. His hands shook as his eyes met mine. Dark, heated, and filled with purpose, his gaze was locked and I was his target. His belt and jeans hit the floor and then I watched him move—slowly stalking me, like a predator. My thighs tightened and my breath hitched as his naked body moved toward mine.

  As if he were a magnet, I felt his pull and instantly responded, moving toward him without thought.

  Without reason.

  My body was his. It was made for him.

  I would always belong to August. I always had.

  Goose bumps pebbled my flesh the instant his fingers touched me as anticipation overwhelmed me. No matter how many times his hands swept over my skin, it would never be enough.

  I know now why I’d never left. Even when things got bad. Even when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.

  Deep down, I was still in love with the monster he’d become. Deep down, I’d always help out hope that somehow…someway…he’d find his way back to me.

  And he had.

  He was new and different, but he was August.

  And he was mine.

  My hands slipped around his neck as he lifted me effortlessly, my legs slid around his waist.

  “You feel so damn good,” he whispered as he fell back onto the sofa with me, his hands ghosting up and down my thighs. Rising up on my knees, my lips found his, kissing deeply as he pulled me closer. His fingers dug into the round curves of my ass as I slowly slid down on his hard length.

  “Fuck,” he hissed.

  Leaning back, I grabbed his camera off the coffee table and handed it to him. “I don’t think you’re done yet.”

  He took it from me, his eyes never leaving mine as I slowly began moving up and down on top of him. He flipped the camera around, the lens pointing toward us as he began photographing our lovemaking.

  It was erotic and I felt bold and completely brazen as he snapped away. My head fell back as I met each and every powerful thrust.

  “It will never be enough. I’ll never get enough of you,” he said, an almost agonizing quality to his voice.

  I was on fire and his words were like kindling, making me burn hotter and brighter.

  When he finally couldn’t take it any longer, the camera hit the couch and both his hands took over, working their way through my hair, down my bare back, to grip my hips so he could push me deeper onto him. His low groans matched mine as we lost ourselves in one another until we were both breathless and spent.

  As he carried me upstairs later that evening, well after the sun had given up to the moon and stars, I couldn’t help but remember the way he used to carry me to bed when we lived in the tiny house across the city.

  “I’ll give you everything someday,” he’d whisper.

  “I just want you,” I’d answer back.

  “But you deserve so much more.”

  Our life had started out so simple. Just a boy and a girl in love. But then August had decided he needed to give me the moon and the stars and everything in between…when all I had really needed was him.

  And during the somewhere in between, I lost him, too.

  After everything collapsed, I’d desperately gone in search of that simple life again, but I’d gone about it all wrong.

  Ryan was right. Love should be simple.

  Life may be difficult, but loving someone…whether it’s right or wrong, that should be the easy part.

  And loving August had always been as easy as breathing.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  August

  “Go away, woman,” I muttered into my pillow, hiding the grin spread across my face. “I’m asleep.”

  “No you’re not. You are definitely awake,” she said, wiggling on
top of me to prove her point. A certain part of my anatomy jumped up to say good morning to her as she giggled.

  “You’re relentless,” I laughed, lifting the pillow off of my head to see her beaming smile above me as I lay comfortably beneath her in bed.

  “It’s morning! Wake up! Coffee time!” she exclaimed.

  I laughed, shaking my head as tiny tendrils of her hair tickled my naked chest. “Don’t most people zombie their way to the kitchen in search of coffee? I’ve never seen anyone jump out of bed, practically singing show tunes in anticipation of coffee.”

  “I’m just in a good mood.”

  I gave her a hard look up and down, taking my time on the way back up.

  “You want something,” I replied, seeing through her coy pillow talk.

  Feigning innocence, she batted her eyelashes at me, trying to suppress the laughter I felt boiling up inside her like an old furnace about to blow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  Grabbing her around the waist, I threw her down on the bed and straddled her between my thighs. “’Fess up, Adams. What’s with the happy attitude? I know I’m good in the sack, but usually only caffeine can bring about this level of joy in the morning.”

  I paused for a second and then looked down at what she was wearing. Leggings and a t-shirt.

  “Let me smell your breath,” I demanded as she squirmed beneath me.

  “What the hell? That is—no!” she squealed, the laughter she’d held inside bursting forth. I pulled her closer, getting the quick whiff of coffee breath I knew I’d encounter.

  Traitor.

  “You’ve already been up!”

  “I needed coffee courage!” she giggled as I punished her with my fingers, tickling her mercilessly. She squealed and giggled, the sound filling me with a peace and tranquility I thought I’d never have. It was like the sweet sound of angels to my ears, and now that I’d heard it, felt it to the depth of my soul, I knew I’d never be the same.

  I’d never be right in this world without it.

  “For what?” I asked as she wiggled out of my grasp, begging for mercy—which I granted.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking,” she explained, readjusting herself on the bed so that she was sitting cross-legged in front on me. I lay back with my arms behind my head.

  “I know how important it is for you to be known among my group of friends.”

  I stopped her, reaching out to wind a piece of her hair around my finger as I spoke. “I told you it could wait. It doesn’t have to happen right away, Everly.”

  “I know that, but I’m ready,” she replied, he eyes closing slightly, as she let herself surrender to the feeling of my fingers in her hair. It made me wonder if it was something she’d always liked.

  Had I done this before?

  “I feel like the longer we go on not telling people, the longer this won’t feel real,” she continued. “And I want it to be. I don’t want to just be sitting around playing house with you, August. I want my friends to know who you are and what you mean to me. I want you to matter in my life.”

  My heart quickened in my chest. “I want that, too.”

  “Good, so that brings me to my next point.”

  “Okay,” I said with an inquisitive brow.

  “I want to have Sarah over for dinner.”

  “Sarah,” I questioned, doubt settling into the pit of my empty stomach as I swallowed audibly. “Your best friend who hates me? That Sarah?”

  She nodded.

  “Wouldn’t it be best if you confronted her on your own and we did this in stages…like they do when they introduce someone to a wild animal or something?”

  She laughed. “Are you comparing yourself to a wild animal?”

  “Who said I would be the one attacking anyone?” I grimaced.

  “Okay, okay…I know I haven’t painted her in the best light,” she said.

  “Best light? Over the last two years you basically conditioned her to hate me—not that I blame you, considering the circumstances, but it kind of blows for the new guy. Which is still me, by the way.”

  “I know,” she said, taking my hand. “Which is why I want her here, around you—to show her that you are different and new. Telling her is one thing, but actually having her here? I’m hoping you can change her opinion faster than I can.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, with a reluctant nod. “But if this goes badly—it was your idea.”

  “Agreed.”

  “But first, we have a date in the dark room,” I said, a mischievous grin spreading across my face.

  Her eyes widened as she remembered the film we’d captured the night before.

  “Race you!” she yelled, jumping off the messy bed toward the door. I caught her before she got two feet and threw her over my shoulder as I raced downstairs.

  Turns out developing those pictures was just as much fun as it was making them.

  * * *

  Everly had been in the kitchen all afternoon, chopping and dicing god knows what.

  It seems Sarah would be getting the dinner to end all dinners.

  I’d heard a lot about Everly’s best friend over the last several weeks. I was both anxious and scared as hell to meet her. Besides Ryan and I guess her counselor, Sarah had been the one constant in Everly’s life over the last two years. She’d been there for her from the beginning and I know her opinion was highly valued.

  I didn’t like being on the bad side of that opinion.

  I hoped by the end of the evening, she might hate me a little less and by some miracle wouldn’t be dragging Everly out by her hair in an effort to knock some common sense back into her.

  I’d suggested going out somewhere—neutral territory. Somewhere that didn’t scream, “Hey, look at my gigantic house!” But Everly vetoed that idea, deciding that since we were now officially a couple, we should present ourselves as such.

  In our massive house—that I’d bought before, when I was a giant douche.

  Fuck.

  I already looked like an asshole.

  I took a deep breath as I pulled out a pair of jeans from a drawer and grabbed a black t-shirt. I was making no effort to dress up. I didn’t want to seem stuffy or overwrought with my own self-worth.

  Just me—the jeans-wearing, photo-chasing guy. No big deal.

  But as I jogged down the stairs on my way to the kitchen to help Everly with any last-minute preparations. I knew it would take a damn miracle for Sarah to see me as anything but the asshole who’d stolen her best friend away.

  Walking into the kitchen, I looked around wide-eyed. “Did we invite the entire ballet over for dinner?” I asked as I scanned the counter. It was covered in dishes.

  “I went a little overboard, huh?” she asked, biting down on her bottom lip as she surveyed the kitchen.

  “A little? It looks like every major holiday combined in here,” I laughed, peeking around to see just what was under some of the covered dishes.

  “Don’t touch!” she scolded. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

  “I thought you said Sarah was like the size of a twig in winter. Why did you make so much food?”

  “Guilt,” she answered. “I tend to make a lot of food when I’m feeling guilty.”

  “Good to know,” I grinned, grabbing her waist and pulling her toward me. “I’ll be sure to use that to my advantage when I’m feeling a bit peckish.”

  She laughed as her lips fell on mine, just in time with the chime of the doorbell.

  “Damn bell,” I cursed.

  “She’s here,” Everly said, her eyes suddenly going wide with panic.

  “Whoa, calm down. Do you want me to go get the door?” I asked.

  “No! God, no. She’ll skin you alive. I’ll go. Why don’t you pull out the wine?” she suggested, tossing a towel on the counter.

  “Sure.”

  I watched her smooth out her hair, take a deep breath, and walk toward the front door. I knew she was a bundle of nerves, but she was handling it wel
l. Sarah meant a lot to her and I knew tonight was important to her.

  I didn’t want to screw anything up.

  Turning back around, I looked for the wine she’d mentioned. The only wine I’d drank since my reawakening had been a glass or two in restaurants. I’d decided I was more of a beer drinker and that was pretty much where my wine days had ended.

  Until Everly showed up.

  She loved wine. Loved everything about it—the color, the flavor, and the smell. It was like a grown-up version of coffee for her. She didn’t drink it every night and she definitely didn’t need a cup to wake up in the morning, but she loved drinking a glass with dinner if she could and would always order it on the rare occasions we’d gone out.

  Now if I could just figure out where she kept it.

  Opening the refrigerator, I scored and found a bottle of white wine chilling inside. I just needed to find the red. Luck was on my side when I found it hanging out by the wine glasses that had been set out earlier.

  Now I just had to figure out how to open the damn things.

  Looking around, I found the wine opener in a drawer and began the complicated process of opening my first bottle of wine. I started off by staring at the contraption for a long period of time, and then staring at the bottle.

  That produced no results.

  Shit.

  Everly and Sarah were going to walk in here and see me standing around like an absolute idiot because I had no idea how to do this.

  Great first impression.

  Not willing to waste any more time, I pulled apart the wine opener and placed it on the bottle, drilling in the corkscrew until…fuck—what did I do now?

  I tried pulling. Nothing. That little fucker of a cork was permanently wedged in there.

  “Do you need some help, babe?” Everly’s voice rang out into the kitchen.

  I froze, looking up to see her and Sarah staring at me from the doorway.

  “I’ve never opened a bottle of wine,” I confessed. “Or if I have, I don’t remember. I guess this isn’t one of those things that stuck around.”

  Everly, always patient and kind, walked forward, taking the bottle from me and showing me what I’d done wrong. I watched as she clamped the wine opener down, which allowed the cork to be pulled free.