Page 56 of The Way We Fell

Jay

Just curious.

Cam

Yeah. Okay. Whatever.

Wanna show me the car soon? I’ll text u my schedule

Jay

Sure.

Cam managed to work things out with Amie, despite everything stacked against them. Some of the same things that are stacked against me and Katy.

It’s only been a couple of months since we met. It’s hard to believe we haven’t been in each other’s orbit forever—the way she’s worked herself through my heart and into the marrow of my bones. The way she’s opened my eyes to so much—so much about the world around me, but about myself, too. The way she never judges, just listens with a patient ear and a serene smile. The way she’s become my safety, my anchor. The way she never lets me fall or drift away.

I return my phone to its docking station beside my pillow and shift onto my back. Almost immediately, Katy rolls towards me, nuzzling into my bare chest. I open my arms to her, tucking her into my side, and a small hand comes to rest on my sternum. Her fingers curl slightly, like she’s holding on to me, even in slumber. It doesn’t take long before that hand drags me down into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter twenty-seven

Katy

IsitpossiblethatI’ve died and gone to heaven? Because I’m pretty sure I have. I’m pretty sure I just hallucinated that Jay Bevan stuck his dick in me, and now I’m all the way gone. Call 911, see ya later, bon voyage homies.

Chapter twenty-eight

Katy

Giddy,Itouchmyfingertips to my lips. If I try hard enough, I can still feel Jay’s lips pressed against them. His lips are softer than I imagined, his tongue warmer and sweeter, his kiss firmer, more insistent. Possessive. Punishing, even. The most powerful kiss I’ve ever experienced.

And all before any clothes came off.

Once they did come off?Game over. Until then, I would’ve described Jay Bevan as tall, dark, and handsome, but without clothes, the truth was revealed. The man isripped, years of working out and working hard leaving their glorious mark on his body. His gorgeous, strong, insanely talented body. Not just a skillful mouth, but hands to match—and don’t even get me started on what he’s packing below the belt.

I should be studying right now, but my body is betraying me, reminding me of all the times I came at Jay’s mercy, and all the ways he played my body like an entire orchestra. The way he lifted me effortlessly, the way I felt more with one single stroke of his tongue against mine than in any sexual encounter I’ve ever had before. The way he said the filthiest things, but held me so tenderly. The way he looked at me with such reverence, I thought my heart might explode.

And the way he did it all over again in the morning before he drove me home.

With a sigh, I flip my textbook back to the previous page—the page I scanned without taking anything in. I tap my pen against my lower lip as I force myself to read the words on the page. The ethics of counselling is just about as dry as it sounds, but I’m forcing myself through it regardless. The classes are already getting intense and in-depth, only a week into the course, with the promise of some hands-on shadowing experience in a clinical setting over the coming weeks. It’s simultaneously the hardest and most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.

It’s been a challenge to return to a classroom, and to train myself back into an academic mindset. But it’s been fun, too. I’ve already learned so much, and so much more of Jay’s words and behaviour makes sense to me now. I feel closer to him. Not just physically, after Saturday night, but emotionally, too. I feel like I understand him better now.

I spend another two hours in the library preparing for a quiz and taking notes for an essay, before walking home. A familiar red Astra is parked on the road outside my house, and when I pass the large hedge on the boundary between my front path and the pavement, I see Jay sitting on my doorstep, skin glowing orange in the sunset light. His face breaks into a wide grin when he sees me.

“Hi, Princess.” He sweeps me into his arms, hesitantly holding me at a distance for just a second, silently asking for permission before dropping his head and pressing his lips to mine. A quiet whimper bubbles up from my throat as his tongue licks at the seam of my lips.

“Hi,” I say breathlessly, breaking the kiss. I fumble for my keys, almost dropping them as my hands shake. The effect this man has on me is unreal. He catches them and my hand, guiding it to the keyhole and steadying me as I open the door and lead him inside.

“I missed you yesterday,” he says nervously. “I-I hope that’s okay. I mean, I—we—”

He’s jittery, bouncing on his heels, eyes flitting from my face to the wall to his hands and back again. It’s adorable. We haven’t talked about Saturday night, or about Sunday morning, but his kiss on my doorstep says he doesn’t regret a thing. I put him out of his misery and push up onto my tiptoes, grabbing the back of his head and crashing my lips to his. He sighs a quiet moan against my lips and heat coils in my belly. I kick off my shoes, never breaking our connection.

“God, I’ve wanted to kiss you for so fucking long, Princess,” he says, finally breaking the kiss and gasping for air.

“Why didn’t you?”

“You know why.” His eyes darken, before he tilts his head and seals his lips to mine again. We’re still in my narrow hallway. I’m caged between Jay and the wall; he has one palm pressed against the plaster above my head and the other hand on my neck, his thumb tilting my chin up to meet his lips. When he squeezes lightly, I explode out of my skin. I’m everywhere at once: both in my body and outside of it, experiencing the kiss and simultaneously watching it from above. I’ve never known a kiss quite like it.

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