Page 77 of She's the Star

She presses her nose into my neck. “You really don’t care about what they’re saying?”

“I don’t know what they’re saying, and I don’t have the urge to find out. It’ll be better if I don’t know.”

“I appreciate that you aren’t obsessed about it. It makes it easier for me to ignore.”

“I bet I can come up with something else we can do to help distract you.”

It’s a cheesy line, but she laughs softly and lifts her head. I tunnel my hands into her hair and press my lips to hers. She sinks into the kiss, her body melding with mine, and we slowly go from comforting to desperate.

We shed our clothes until we’re skin to skin.

I fumble in my pocket for a condom—I’ve taken to carrying them around with me—and once I’m sheathed, she sinks onto me.

The heat in her eyes transfixes me as she starts to move. Her hips lift and fall in a steady motion. Neither of us blink. Our gazes are connected by an invisible tether—it’s emotional as much as it’s physical. My hands become almost frantic—skimming her breasts, flicking her nipples, gripping her hips. Her skin is silky smooth and I want to touch her everywhere.

Her fingers tighten on my shoulders when I reach between us and her breath hitches when I gently graze the bundle of nerves that concentrates her pleasure. Her head drops back, and her movements still. She stays like that, with me buried deep inside of her. Every time I skim the spot, her body grips me tighter, and she whimpers.

It’s insanely difficult to keep my touch gentle, but I know that’s what she likes, and I want her to unravel. I want to feel her body clench around me, and I want her pleasure to be what spurs mine.

The motion of my fingers is almost a dance—slow and steady with the anticipation building. Her thighs quiver, her back arches, and her body tenses. She comes with a low moan. I grab her hips and rock her against me. Once. Twice. And then, I’m coming, too, filling the condom while I cling to her.

She sinks against my chest, our skin sticking together, as our breathing slows.

It feels like I claimed her.

Or she claimed me.

I can never quite tell, and it doesn’t particularly matter, because we’re together, and all the things that have the potential to affect us are irrelevant when it’s just the two of us.

I feel her smile against my neck. “Want to go to bed?”

I agree, then kiss her softly and pull her to her feet.

TWENTY-EIGHT

AMBER

Nolan’s in the shower, Maddy’s still asleep, and I’m staring at my phone. It’s early enough that it’s still dark. I could’ve rolled over and gone back to sleep when Nolan slipped quietly out of bed, but instead I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and opened my browser.

I know I shouldn’t type my name in the box at the top of the screen. It’s foolish for me to even care what strangers are saying, but that doesn’t stop me. I type it in and then hit the little blue button that says go.

After Russell called, I wanted to read a few headlines, but instead I confessed to Nolan how risky it is for me to idly search for comments about myself. Telling him kept me from succumbing, but now that I’m alone, I can’t resist taking a quick peek.

There are lots of positive headlines. Dozens. I scroll right past them.

Then I stop and click on a photo. I’m smiling widely at a small crowd of people, and over my left shoulder, Nolan is in the process of turning away from me. He has Maddy in his arms and is using his body to shield her from view. His jaw is tight. His lips are pressed together. The headline says, How long until he cheats on her?

I slam my phone down on the bed and squeeze my eyes shut.

The words are burned into my retinas.

Why do I let myself look?

The water shuts off and I scramble to lay back down, rolling onto my side so my back faces the bathroom while I try to breathe steadily. My phone is lost somewhere in the sheets, but I don’t make any effort to find it. The door softly clicks open, and Nolan quietly rummages in his clothes. A minute later, he drops a kiss into my hair and sneaks out of the room.

He always wakes early and tries to be quiet so I can sleep. Too bad I chose not to this morning.

I keep my eyes squeezed shut long after he’s gone. There’s no part of me that believes he will cheat on me, and I hate that someone has suggested that he will.

---