Breathing hard and fast, he breaks away from my mouth and presses his face against my hair. “Your parents are right behind that door and if I don’t stop now, I’m not going to stop.”
His thumb drifts up the edge of my t-shirt to trace the line of my spine. I inhale the scent of him and it’s like remembering the lyrics to a song that you forgot you knew.
“Mmmm,” he sighs huskily, mirroring my thoughts. “Chlorine. I love the smell of chlorine.”
Cole
I ended up eating Thanksgiving dinner with Aimee’s family. When her mother realized that I didn’t have plans, she insisted that I stay over. In the guest room, her dad was quick to point out.
And I’m not going to lie. Thanksgiving was a little awkward. Daniel stopped by to thank Aimee for going to talk to his mother. Then he stayed for pie. It was weird. But it was weird and wonderful and all ours.
“You know,” I say, glancing over at her. We’re in my truck driving back to her place. “If you keep looking at me like that, you’re going to ruin me.”
Staying out of her bedroom last night was a testament to my willpower. Every inch of my body was burning. I think I may have actually left a pile of ashes back in the guest room bed.
“What do you mean?”
“That,” I point with one finger. “Right there. That lip bite. I think you’re aware that it drives me wild and you’re using it against me. We’re not even going to make it to your bed.”
Aimee blinks innocently. “What… this?” She sucks on her bottom lip. “Does it bother you?”
I growl. I actually growl.
Right before we sat down for Thanksgiving dinner, I pulled Aimee into the hall and whispered into her ear all the things that I planned to do to her when I had the chance. I think that I may have even licked her neck. I can’t be sure since things tend to go a little blurry when I’m that close to her.
The good news is that she didn’t hesitate to announce to her family that we were heading back to school early to… “um, study.” I swear that her dad looked a little nauseous and I don’t really blame him. The things I plan to do to her tonight…
“I’m not kidding,” I say to her.
And I’m not.
Aimee
Cole’s right. We don’t even make it to the bed.
He’s on me before I can kick the front door shut. His fingers are at my waist, fighting with my zipper, eagerly peeling my panties down my legs.
I think I make a sound as we hit the ground, but I’m distracted by the weight of his body pressing into mine in all the right places. I grab the back of his shirt and pull, digging my fingers into the flesh of his lower back.
“I need…” I whimper. God, I sound insane, like I’m being pulled apart at the seams.
Cole kisses me, captures my breaths with his mouth tells me that he needs me too. Like air, he reminds me.
Later, when we’ve managed to remove all our clothes and make it to my bed, I ask him a question that’s been niggling at my brain. “So what was the movie?”
I’m on my stomach and he’s next to me, propped with two pillows behind his back. He’s holding my right hand in front of his body, drawing lazy circles in the valley between each finger. “What?
“The one that you quoted to me earlier.”
Cole shifts and the sheet falls so that the top of it cuts a line right through that vee in between his hips. God. “As Good as it Gets,” he says.
I pull my hand away and starting just above the edge of the sheet, I slowly crawl my fingers up his chest like a spider. “Haven’t seen it.”
He chuckles and I watch my hand move with his body. “It’s basically about this OCD guy who meets a woman and gets his life turned completely upside down.”
“Oh, so do you think that’s true?”
Cole grins and pulls me fully on top of him so that he can see my face. “Is what true?”
“That this is as good as it gets?”
He thinks about it. “Honestly, Aimee? I’m not sure that my body can handle much better than this.” He touches his hot mouth to my neck and I shiver.
I scoot a little lower so that my face is level with his navel. I run my tongue over his smooth skin and he moans.
“I’m not done,” I whisper, pulling away to trace the words into his thigh. Our words. This is real.
“You know,” I continue. “I think you can handle better. You’re young. You’re an athlete. I’ve heard that runners have great stamina.”
Cole’s breath is coming fast now. He’s struggling to keep his eyes open and trained on me. “Huh,” he manages. “Why don’t we prove that?”
So we do.
EPILOGUE
“A Feast for Cows. It’s a book about different factions of warring bovine, each one intent on seizing control of the pasture.”
She tucks her face into the crook of his neck and laughs softly. He feels the moisture of her mouth against his skin and instinctively tilts his jaw into her. The pilot’s voice comes from overhead and they both pull apart and look forward to where the flight attendants are doing the safety spiel at the front of the cabin.
Cole makes himself take a breath. Unfortunately, the lady jammed up next to him prescribes to the idea that full-on bathing in perfume is perfectly acceptable. He chokes, sputters, looks at his girlfriend with wide eyes and flared nostrils.
She rolls her eyes and peeks over his shoulder at the older woman in the twill brown pants and loud orange-patterned blouse. The plane is packed. It’s just before the holidays so he guesses that people are making visits to loved ones, going home. Home. That’s where he and Aimee are headed. Home to Nebraska. Home to his dad and sister. Babs. His mom. The unknown.
Nervous energy churns deep inside of him, but at least he’s not running and at least he’s got Aimee with him. He picks up her hand and turns it over so that he can trace the lines etched into her palm.
First they’ve got two stops. One in Atlanta and then one in Dallas, so realistically they won’t make it to his house until nearly midnight, and that’s counting on all the flights being on time. But his dad is footing the cost of the tickets for both of them so Cole’s not going to start complaining about the flight plan now. He’s not going to whine about having to spend more time with Aimee, even if it means being stuffed in a shiny metal tube and sent hurtling through the sky. No fucking way.
“Back to the game. I’ve also got Harry Otter.” He taps his head with his free hand. “Now you’re two behind me.”
Aimee lets her eyes slide to the top of the plane cabin and back to Cole’s face. “Okay, wiseass. How about… Fight Cub.”
The engine whines beneath them as the plane punches down the runway. He feels the slight pressure of her fingers tightening around his. “Uh-uh-uh. That’s a movie.”
“No… it was a book first.”
“Huh.”
The look on her face can only be described as smug. “So, you don’t know everything after all?”
He seeks out her eyes and smiles. “Apparently not.”
“Well, wonders never cease.” She leans back into her seat and grips his hand to her chest as they pitch upward. “You know, we could play the game with movies too. Let’s see… Aging Bull, The Fat and the Furious, and… Finding Emo. That one’s about two guys who both fall in love with an emo chick. They band together to find her when she goes missing and an unlikely bromance develops.”
The dimples deepen. He can feel them cutting into his cheeks. “This could go on forever, yeah?”
The world slips away beneath them. The greens and browns are replaced by a blue so complete and true that it almost steals his breath.
Aimee lifts one eyebrow. “Is that going to be a problem?”
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Lately I’ve been getting asked one particular question.
What’s the best part about writing?
I could say something really deep but, if I’m being honest, the best part is staying in my pajamas until two
in the afternoon. Shallow, right?
Now… The second best part? That’s you—the reader! And I’m not just stroking your ego so that you go online and write an awesome review or find me on Facebook and like my page (wink, wink)—I’m being serious.
I know that your time is short and your to-be-read lists (if they’re anything like mine) are long, so if you’ve shared in Cole and Aimee’s journey—I thank you. This is a figurative hug from me to you. You are the reason my kids will get popsicles tonight and you are responsible for all the pajama wearing, which makes you pretty much my favorite.
That being said, my life is full of folks that deserve a thunderous round of applause, and though it’s probably ridiculous to attempt to single people out, I’m going to try…
My husband, Dave, read Harry Potter for me while we were dating all those years ago and is not a douchebag. He puts up with the laundry and the moods and the dogs sleeping in bed with us. What more can I say?
I’d like to thank my friend, Brittany Walters, for graciously allowing me to use a version of her story about having a bird shit in her eye. As with most of her tales, it made me laugh so hard that I almost peed my pants.
While writing the In This Moment I played the book name game on Facebook with my friends and I want to thank the always witty, Ben Westermann-Clark and Tripp Ruding for letting me paraphrase their fake book blurbs.
I was lucky enough to have an extensive group of beta readers this time around. These women cheered for Aimee, swooned for Cole, and gave me direction and a reality check when I needed it. Here they are (in no particular order): Jackie Hillman, Stephanie Dean, Ana Boza, Summer LoDuca, Nelle Minich, Cindy Smith, Erica Cope (author of Lark), Mimi Sall, Michelle Flick (author of The Owens Legacy), Elizabeth Hilburn, Peggy Warren (Le’ BookSquirrel—blogger and reader and person extraordinaire), Renny Shuster, Jennifer Lyons Smyth, Kristy Shuster, Sarah Baldwin and Heather Doughton (that’s my mom).
I’d also like to thank Komal Kant (author of the With Me books) for reaching out to me, answering so many writer-ish questions, being a reader and friend, and hooking me up with other indie authors in my genre. I am indebted.
Lastly, my family members (this includes pets) deserve a parade or some sort of grand gesture. They are tremendous. They make me better. They make me want to be better.
Until next time… Cheers!
MUSIC NOTES
Music is a big part of what I do. Sometimes a song will inspire me or get me in the mood to do a scene. Other times, I actually find myself using the words of the song. In this book, I think I’ve quoted lyrics twice.
I’ll be the bottles on the beaches
You’ll be the waves that wash them all ashore.
If you’re curious, the song is “No Nostalgia” and the band is Agesandages. And they really are out of Portland, Oregon. (As are the maple syrup and bacon donuts from Voodoo.)
I also quoted a Papa Roach song called “Last Resort.” The beat, the words, everything, matches up with how I wanted Cole to be feeling that night.
Cut my life into pieces,
I’ve reached my last resort.
Suffocation, no breathing,
Don’t give a fuck if I cut my arms bleeding.
Do you even care if I die bleeding?
There’s one more song that I feel deserves a mention. I listened to “What You’re Thinking” by Passenger (featuring Josh Pyke) almost every day that I was writing. The lyrics, the melody, the rhythm… I think they flow through this book. I can’t imagine a better song for Cole and Aimee’s story.
If you’re itching for more, I actually have an entire IN THIS MOMENT playlist. You can find it through my website www.autumndoughton.com or on Spotify.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
My first love is reading. My second love is pizza.
Currently, I live in Gainesville, Florida and I write books. Fun books for you, your sister, your best friend and your hairdresser. I think of writing as a sort of therapy, and the results tend to be feel-good odes to my youth, which is exactly how I like it.
When I'm not working or chasing after my two daughters, two dogs, two cats, three ducks and one lovely husband, I can be found skulking around the movie theater or local bookseller. Generally with chocolate somewhere on my person, because I never leave home without a treat.
Find me on Facebook, Goodreads, or through my website: www.autumndoughton.com
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