by Scott, S. L.
Hope fills my heart as I stare at the ring like it’s the forbidden fruit I shouldn’t touch.
He spins the ring around on my finger, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. His voice is low enough for only me to hear. “It looks good on your hand.”
Touching his cheek with that hand, I say, “Evan, it’s stunning.”
“Just like you, Mallory.”
“It’s too much.” I shake my head. “You shouldn’t be spending—”
“It wasn’t expensive and it doesn’t matter if it was. It’s something I wanted to give you, something to take back to Colorado with you.” I kiss him, eyes closed then stop with his lips paused against mine. He takes my face into his hands and a lone tear slides down my right cheek as he whispers, “No tears, okay. We’re in this together.”
“Okay.” Only a one word response, but for now, that seems to be enough.
47
Mallory
Small talk fills the boat ride back to the dock. As soon as Evan gets into the car, I ask, “Where to next?” I can’t help but be giddy. The boy is beyond amazing and romantic. I shouldn’t admit this, but I kind of do feel like a newlywed.
“Waimea Canyon and then dinner before we have to catch our flight back.” He revs the engine and squeezes my knee. “You ready?”
“So ready,” I answer nonchalantly, but really, him revving that engine is the equivalent to him revving my engine and listen to it purr. Geez fucking Louise, I might have to attack him while driving again. I try to restrain myself. It’s difficult because of the way he’s looking today.
The drive is higher up on the island, so I’m thinking we’re going to get a bird’s eye view of this canyon when we get there. Upon arrival, the view does not disappoint. We stand against the barely there railing and stare out onto the great expanse of the canyon. Looking off to the right is the ocean in the distance and it’s spectacular. We take a lot of pictures of the two of us, together and separately. It’s fun to take the photos, but I know it’s really because we want to capture the moment just in case our memories fade and we never get the chance to make new ones to replace them.
The wind is strong and Evan wraps his arms around me as we watch mountain goats play on the ledges and the random chicken walk by. The colors of the canyon vary from green to brown to rust to orange and I can distinctly smell the salt water in the air.
Walking around the platform several times, we take in the view from all angles before deciding to leave. We’re hungry and have just enough time to eat on Kauai before we have to catch our flight back to Oahu.
As we drive back down the winding road, I ask, “You seem to know where you’re going. Have you been to Kauai a lot?”
“A few times. Zach, Murphy, and I island hop for surfing when it’s breaking from a storm. Kauai has more undeveloped coastline, so the waves get pretty radical. Once Murphy…” My mind briefly wanders from his words to watch his animated movements and expressions. He’s so passionate about surfing that I’m still surprised he never pursued it like Noah.
“…total rippage of the skin. It was nasty. His hairy back will cover the scar though. Hey, Mallory? You with me here?”
“Oh, um… yeah, well, no actually. I kind of got lost in my thoughts for a moment. I’m sorry,” I apologize while rubbing his leg.
“A hundred for your thoughts.”
“A hundred? A hundred dollars? The saying is ‘A penny for your thoughts.’ Not a hundred.”
He laughs. “I know, but it’s kind of an inside joke between me and Kate.”
“I think you might be showing your spoiled side, Mr. Ashford.” I can tease him because he never acts above anyone else although we all know his family is loaded.
“Oh really?” He smiles, grabbing my knee and squeezing playfully, but firmly.
Squirming under his squeeze, I plead between giggles, “No, no, no, stop, Evan. That hurts.” I lie because I’m too ticklish to handle it.
“If it hurts so much then why are you laughing so hard?”
He releases as giggle tears fill my eyes. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.” His tone is serious and he pulls the car onto the side of the two lane road. His hand comes around to the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. Our lips are about to meet when he says, “I love you, Mallory Wray.” Leaving no option to return the sentiment, he presses his lips firmly against mine and begins exploring my mouth with his tongue.
Dazed when we part, I open my eyes and see his blues staring deep into mine, I can’t help but respond, “I love you, too, Evan Ashford.” When I say his name, I realize right then and there that I would take his last name as mine without question. I would want that kind of bond with him. Not with just anybody, but with him I do.
We kiss again and deepen it. He makes me feel needy and wanted and beautiful and I can’t stand the thought of being away from him in a few days. My heart lurches into my stomach as our impending separation weighs me down. I keep all that inside as we sit back, a bit breathless, and he starts driving again.
A few miles down the road, he pulls the car into a small paved parking lot, jumps out, and rushes around opening my door before I have a chance. “Right this way, my love.”
“Why thank you, kind sir.” I hook my arm around his and he leads me down a path lit by tiki torches. As we make our way down the path, an opening is revealed, and I see the hostess stand, but it’s not the stand that catches my eye, it’s beyond that; the restaurant is on the beach and I can see the tide gently rolling up onto the small private beach.
“I hope you don’t mind me bringing you to another place on the beach, but I heard great things about this restaurant and thought it would be nice to try,” Evan says, unsure of his choice in establishments.
“It’s heaven on earth here.”
We’re lead to table for two out on the back patio. “It’s breathtaking. Private and romantic.” As he holds my chair for me, I lean up and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here, baby.”
Sitting back in the chair, I don’t worry about ordering or drinks. Evan has great taste and his fancy upbringing shines through at restaurants. I feel safe with him and know he’ll take care of me. Since he’s driving, he only has one beer to my several glasses of champagne. We enjoy the catch of the day and local vegetables, ending the meal with a homemade upside pineapple cake. I have a physical reaction when eating it, remembering what he has done to me with pineapple. He laughs because he knows my mind is in the gutter. I can’t help but savor and moan with each bite I take. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever look at a pineapple the way I used to again.
We’re walking back to the car when he stops me and kisses me in the moonlight. My body heats from his touches and my insides alight with fire for him as his hands glide down my bottom pulling me tighter to his body.
My hands graze over his length and I feel it harden beneath his shorts. He picks me up abruptly and tosses me quickly over his shoulder, and slaps my ass, hard. After setting me down, I duck into the seat, and when he gets into the car, he leans in next to my ear and says, “Don’t think you’ll get away with making me hard. You know what they say. ‘Revenge is sweet.’”
My head is thrown against the headrest as he peels out of the lot. I watch him carefully as he commands the car and the road while smiling deviously. He definitely has more than the road on his mind.
A sudden turnoff leads us on a dirt road where he parks in the dark between two sugar cane fields. His seatbelt snaps open and mine goes flying and we’re all hands and wet lips, moans, and sensations.
“I will never get enough of you, baby, not ever,” he moans against my collarbone as he stretches my collar to the side, exposing more skin.
The top is opened as our clothes come off.
We never have to wait for either of us to be in the mood or ready because when it comes to each other, we’re always in the mood. So as much as I enjoy foreplay, in times like these, it isn’t necessary. Reaching into his pocket, I pull
out that familiar little packet and soon after, I’m rocking gently back and forth on top of him. Holding my hips, he closes his eyes as his lips part. His face is pure ecstasy that elicits sexual cravings that were long buried until he coaxed them to the surface. I close my eyes and get lost in the feeling as he balances between falling and bliss, then gives in wholly.
Dropping his forehead against my chest, his breathing is ragged as it races mine unsteadily and we come back to reality, to the here and now.
He finally looks up and says, “We’re in a sugar cane field.”
I shake my head, laughing with him. “Like pineapple, I’m never gonna look at sugar the same way now.”
Companionable silence fills the drive back to the airport. We’re finding ourselves in a serene quietness more often these last few days we have together. I fall asleep in the car as we leave the airport. I vaguely remember him carrying me to bed and sliding in next to me, his warm skin against mine. But I definitely remember his sweet kisses and I hear him as he whispers, “You’re my future and my everything.”
48
Evan
“This fucking sucks!” My anger is getting the best of me. Maybe it’s grief I’m feeling. I don’t know, but I do know this sucks.
“We knew this was coming,” she says, much calmer than me.
“I can be pissed if I want. Can you let me be pissed? Wait, you’re not? You’re just gonna accept this bullshit?”
“Evan…” Her voice instantly soothes me as my name rolls off her tongue like she’s said it for years. “I have to leave. I don’t want to leave, but I have to.” She tucks her head against my chest, fists my t-shirt, and loses eye contact with me as she whispers, “Don’t make me be the strong one because I can’t. I’m not. I need you to be the brave one here. Remember last night...”
I chased her down the path. Although, we got caught in another rainstorm, we laugh, both of us a bit delirious from the day. She’s about to reach for the door when I catch her.
“Not so fast, pretty girl,” I say, feeling the electricity between us.
She smiles and I die inside knowing that I won’t get to see her face every day. I’ve been spoiled by this sweet angel giving me all her days and nights. I possessively take hold of her wrists and like so many fun-loving times before, the air stills as our connection intensifies. I can’t help myself when it comes to her and I refuse not to take what I need and give her what she wants.
I kiss her.
Rain pours down harder and I wrap my arms around her, engulfing her body, her love, her soul. I shamelessly take possession of what’s mine and claim her once again.
She breaks away from me and giggles, but it’s shallow, followed by an anxious laugh, one that borders on fun and heavier emotions. The moment sinks in and she knows where this is going.
“I’m cold, let’s go inside,” she says, taking my hand. She leads me into the bathroom, our dripping clothes hanging heavy like my heart just looking at her.
Tomorrow… tomorrow… tomorrow.
She doesn’t leave until tomorrow. Make the most of today.
She starts the shower then backs up and takes her clothes off, slowly peeling them away from her rain-drenched skin. Tilting her head, she narrows her eyes busting me, sometimes feeling like she knows me better than I know myself. I’m memorizing this moment and everything that’s contained within it, needing to remember all of it. These are the memories that I’ll hold onto, when we’re apart.
“C’mon,” she whispers, her breath sending shivers against my cold body as she lifts my shirt up.
Once naked, she pulls me under the warm water and hugs her body to mine. I stroke down her slickened hair, holding my lips pressed firmly to hers, needing to feel her like this.
She lets out the smallest of moans—a moan of pleasure escaping from a smile. She doesn’t look up, but says, “Hold me.” She sounds confident in what she wants, in what she needs.
I strain to look down, lowering my head so I can see her hidden face. She smiles and I can’t help but think aloud. “You look so fucking innocent right now. No makeup, hair all wet, and stuck to your head. Tell me I didn’t corrupt you this summer. That this is what you want, baby?”
“You know I went into this with my eyes wide open.”
“No, I need to hear the words. Tell me I’m what you want, that I can actually make you happy.”
“Don’t doubt yourself. You’re all I want and I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Her eyes look up in thought and she corrects herself, “Okay, maybe not the first time I saw you because we all remember that, but you had me at the restaurant where we really talked for the first time.” She looks down. “You knew me even then. You saw beyond all the bullshit. You saw me, the real me. You had me all figured out and though I wouldn’t have admitted then, everything you said was true.”
I lift her chin up and kiss her sweetly like she deserves. “I want you. I always fucking want you and it scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to disappoint you like I have everyone else.” My heart is racing with the energy flowing between us and I close my eyes, inhaling her into me. “I want to be all that you need and this separation is really freaking me the fuck out.”
My hand gravitates toward my hair for some comfort tugging, but she grabs it and says, “No. You’re not going to do this. I can’t go there. And I’m begging you, Evan, don’t go down that road either. My heart…” She sniffles as her eyes well with tears. “Kiss me and make the world go away just for a little while, babe. Will you do that for me?”
Our eyes meet and we spend a moment looking into the others’, reading the fear and the love that mingles within. I move slowly down and kiss her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks, and her chin before I kiss her lips again—soft and gentle, not rushed, but sensual.
“I want to make love to you tonight.” I reach behind her and turn the shower lever off.
Grabbing a towel from the hook, I wrap it around her and then wrap my own towel around myself. As we dry our bodies, our love draws us back together. We kiss, wet hair, dewy skin, high on emotions, we kiss, giving our all.
Silently following her into the bedroom, it’s quiet, almost too quiet, but we’re not sad, more reflective and grateful for the remaining hours together. We don’t want to fill the hours with nonsense or drown in the unknown of what lies ahead, so we stay quiet, settling onto the mattress. My arm goes out, welcoming her into my side. She snuggles and we lay there appreciating what seems to be the last of the calm before the storm of reality that will separate us.
We lay there, eyes open, unmoving, deepened breathing, lost in our own thoughts for hours. Several times I feel a small yawn against my side. Sometimes she smiles, but stays silent, her own thoughts making her react.
But the silence starts messing with my head. I don’t want silence. I want Mallory’s laughter, her words, her voice, and her breath to swallow me whole, to take me under, and fill my soul as she’s done for the last two months.
I roll over, needing the change in scenery, but seeing her face, eyes, lips… I have to kiss her. My more selfish side takes over and I lean forward. I run my thumb across her bottom lip before clearing the way for my own lips.
We’ve spent the entire day in one long session of foreplay building up to this moment. I push my hips, rolling her onto her back as I position myself between her legs. The look in her eyes is strong, willing, vulnerable, and sincere. I enter her. She’s soft and overwhelming, grounding me to her with every breath that she takes.
I struggle for control—one side needing to take her and to own her completely. The other side, never wanting this to end—giving into her, total surrender of heart, mind, and soul.
My mind is in overdrive as I make love to her knowing this will be the last time for a while, maybe forever. It’s hard to digest this concept that is starting to override my pleasure. I want to lose myself in her as I’ve done all summer, but I can’t. So I watch her intently as she seems t
o have the same struggles. For some reason, it’s a relief to see her waging her own internal battle.
Even with the warring, that familiar feeling starts spreading from my groin to my stomach and outward to all of my limbs. With barely enough sense remaining in my brain, I move to stroke her. Her battle dissolves before my eyes and under my hand.
Falling as she does, I push her hands tightly against the mattress and both of us vocalizing our release and submission to each other.
* * *
“Goodbye’s are bullshit,” I mumble, walking out the door and up the path. I throw her suitcase into the trunk and load her carry-on into the backseat. Only ten minutes left until we have to leave.
Ten minutes until she leaves.
Ten minutes.
I walk back into the house and see her anxiously shutting the top drawer of my dresser.
“Hey,” I announce, not wanting her to think I was sneaking up on her.
She turns abruptly, pressing her back against the dresser, clearly guilty of something. “Hey.” She walks over to the bed and flops down on it. “I guess that’s everything.”
Sitting down on the mattress next to her, she pulls me by the elbow and we fall backward. We take a minute to look at each other, really look, deep into each other’s eyes. The brilliant emerald flecks in her eyes shine through the worry lines creasing her forehead. Tears fill her eyes as she holds my gaze.
She nods, the words she wants to say so obviously stuck in her throat. Clearing her throat as I catch her tear and gently wipe away its tracks, she says, “We should go or I’m gonna be late.”
Like our morning, we don’t talk much on the drive to the airport. The reality and accompanying sinking feeling of her departure is all too real to me now. My hand never leaves her leg until I pull into the airport parking area. We get out, slow and unsure of ourselves, awkward even in these final moments.
