Page 108 of High Hopes

He pushes my shirt up, baring my stomach, and leans in, his breath hot against my skin. I shiver as he blows a puff of warm air just above my navel, his lips brushing over the spot. Then he works his way lower, kisses trailing a path down my stomach and along the inside of my thighs, where his teeth nip gently at the sensitive skin.

When his lips finally press against me, I gasp. It’s like everything sharpens at once—every nerve alive and begging for more. He licks, lavishes, kisses, and sucks with a focus that makes my head spin.

It’s not just good—it’s overwhelming. He’s quite literally making out with my pussy, and it feels like ... magic. Like fireworks detonating behind my eyelids, like I’m floating and sinking at the same time, like nothing else in the world exists except the way he’s making me feel.

I grab at the sheets, my knuckles white as my head falls back against the pillow. My hips buck against him, completely out of my control, chasing every press of his tongue. His mouth moves to my clit, and I cry out.

Then his fingers join in—two of them, sliding inside me with the same ease as his tongue, pushing and pulsing in rhythm with the swirling heat building low in my belly. One flat hand presses firmly against my lower abdomen, anchoring me as his fingers curl just right, hitting that spot that makes me see stars.

The combined pressure—the way he’s everywhere at once—is too much, too good, and I instantly shatter. My whole body tightens, every muscle locking up before releasing in a powerful wave as I come. I’m exploding into his mouth, my body trembling with the force of it as he keeps going, coaxing every last aftershock from me.

And then he’s licking me clean, gentle now, his tongue soft and soothing against oversensitive skin. I think I’ve just died. Truly, honestly. There’s no way I’m still alive, not after that.

My chest heaves as I try to remember how to breathe, how to think, how to exist. Liam looks up at me, his mouth curling into that smug, lopsided grin. His lips are shiny, and I should probably feel embarrassed, but I’m still too blissed-out to care.

“So,” he says, his voice low and gravelly as he rests his chin on my thigh, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Still not sure if you like it?”

I manage a shaky laugh. “Oh, I like it. I definitely like it.”

“Good,” he says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to my hip. “Told you I wasn’t bad at this.”

And for once, I can’t argue.

37

LIAM

It’sthe first week of May, and school’s finally out.

It’s warm enough to ditch a hoodie but not so hot that I’m melting under the sun. The park is quiet today. Quiet but alive, like everything’s waking up at once. Kids are laughing in the distance, birds are chirping in the trees. Birdie’s curled up next to me on the blanket, her head on my shoulder, and the smell of spring—fresh-cut grass, faintly sweet flowers—wraps around us.

I close my eyes for a second, letting the moment settle. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. So content, so steady, like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

“Do you think Warren ever takes a break from scowling?” I ask, cracking one eye open to glance at her. “Because I swear he’s been practicing it like it’s a sport lately.”

Birdie hums, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on my knee. “He might. But only when no one’s watching.”

I laugh because she’s not wrong. “I wonder if he’ll finally loosen up next year.”

We’d talked about it briefly—a quick exchange in the middle of unpacking finals stress—and decided to keep the same living arrangements for senior year. It wasn’t some huge, dramaticdecision. It just made sense. Warren’s quirks are more than manageable, and I think I’ve started to grow on him, too. Slowly.

“You two are like an old married couple already.” She smiles up at me, and it does something to my chest, the way her face softens in the sunlight, her hair a little messy from the breeze. “Sena’s gonna drive me up the wall, too. Ever since I started inviting her to more things, she’s been talking about themed wine nights and a murder mystery dinner party.”

“You’ll survive the company.” I press a kiss to her temple. “And I’ll be close by to rescue you if she starts singing show tunes at two in the morning again.”

“Deal.” She cups my jaw, her thumb brushing lightly over the stubble I forgot to shave this morning. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing what’s next.”

“It does. Because this time, I’ve got an unfair advantage.”

I’ve got a clear sense of direction now. Soccer preseason kicks off in a few weeks, and I’m more than ready—ready to push my limits and see how far this journey can go. The draft is looming in the back of my mind, but it doesn’t feel like an insurmountable obstacle anymore. It’s just the next step forward.

And Birdie’s a big part of why it feels manageable.

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You.”

Her cheeks flush, and she ducks her head, pretending to fix the edge of the blanket like I didn’t just make her all soft and flustered. I let her have a moment before I reach for her hand again, lacing our fingers together.

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