Page 31 of Sorry, We're Closed

That perfect feeling of his lips on mine comes rushing back but so much more intense, and I completely sink into it. Avory's hand cups my cheek as his fingers rest against the side of my neck, his thumb running over my cheek bone, and it feels beyond incredible just to be touched by him.

I'm sure he’s aware that I’m practically melting because of him, a low hum coming from his throat and resonating through his lips and onto mine.God, that noise alone is causing a tight situation to build elsewhere.I could get used to hearing that.

Avory's lips pull away from mine, but his hand never leaves my face.

“Avory, I like you. I said it, and that's a massive thing for me. It's just, my life is difficult, complicated, and very hard right now.”

His hand falls from my cheek and trails down the side of my neck, my shoulder and down my arm until his hand is in mine. Our fingers intertwine and of course, they fit perfectly. His painted nails sit nicely between my knuckles.

“Sawyer, you don't need to explain anything to me that you don't want to, but I would like to see you again, and not just across the counter. Could we work through it?”

“I'm not sure, Avory.”

“That wasn't a no.”

Avory winks at me and I feel the crimson heat in my cheeks spread across my body, fuelling the already tight sensation which is just starting to calm down. I don't think he understands what he's getting himself into.

“Avory, I want to tell you everything and—”

I want to, I want him to know every single thing about me and I want to learn everything about him, every single detail and create the book of Avory Bright, yet something always has to interrupt.

Something arrives here to tell me that everything about this is a bad idea – another car. It races around the corner, and with no umbrella to protect us, we are drenched by a murky wave.

Avory wraps his arms around me, my head landing on his shoulder and my lips barely an inch away from his neck. I could happily stay in the pouring rain with him if it means I stay where I am, with his gingerbread scent swimming in my nose.

That same chesty chuckle erupts from Avory as his hair forms inky spikes, soaked in rainwater. His eyeliner is exactly like Gwen's though, it hasn't moved despite the downpour.

“I want you to get home, I don't want you to get ill.”

Avory's arms are still wrapped around me as we speak, my head resting in the nook between his shoulder and neck. My eyes lock onto his neck twitching as he talks.

“Oh, what a shame if I were to get ill. Who on earth would make your coffee each day?”

The laughter continues between us.

“But you aren't getting away from me that easy Sawyer, we are having this conversation next time I see you.”

I roll my eyes and nod; it seems laughter is going to become the most common sound between us. He places his lips on my forehead as his arms slink back to his sides. The only remaining connection is our hands, but we reluctantly pull our fingers apart.

“Until I can tell you everything, nothing more than this? Please, promise me?”

The words roll out of my mouth, and I don't fully understand why I ask this because I want so much more with Avory. I've had the slightest hit and now I'm hooked. It’s needed. He deserves to know what he could be signing up for, if anything else happens.

Avory smiles and nods as we exchange our goodbyes. I watch as he turns and leaves, a slight jog to his step as he throws his hood up. My eyes take in as much of him as they possibly can until he disappears around the corner.

I practically throw myself into the house, the front door reverberating throughout the house and practically shaking the walls.

I glance at the clock on the wall, I’m fully aware that I have been coming home later than usual recently, and I always fret over how long it will take for her to notice since she knows about the only two people in my life.

She doesn't know that it's possibly three people now, and she doesn't know that the third person is an extremely attractive guitarist who I have just kissed in the cascading rain. I would give anything to have his soft, warm lips on mine again.

“Sawyer?” Her voice erupts from the living room before she appears in the doorway.

Her hair is matted into a bun and a stained football shirt that definitely isn't hers hangs off her body. I peer past her tiny frame and into the living room to see a burly man who sits shirtless, balancing a beer bottle on his stomach as the many others roll around by his feet. I have never seen this man before.

Her eyes examine my entire being, taking in her son who is soaked from head to toe.

“Yeah, you can just head upstairs for the night,” she whispers as she slams the living room door in my face, the smack of air that follows sending a freezing shock over my wet body.

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