Page 78 of Heart of the Sun

He blinked as if suddenly taken off guard, and then tipped his head back to look up at the moon. I did too, only able to see half of it from where we lay. “It seems like it’s peeking in at us,” I whispered.

He let out a soft chuckle and I smiled sleepily, my eyes already half-closed. The bed was so warm and comfortable and there was a roof and walls protecting us from harm. Tuck and I were so close, and I could smell the scent of his skin, making me feel equally comforted and excited. Candlelight flickered, and oh, how I wished I could stay in the moment for longer than a single night. Clouds floated past the moon, dimming its light, and I stared up at it again feeling a moment of uncertainty as if the laws of nature had changed and the moonlight might blink out like the rest of the world.

“The whole world feels different,” I whispered, my words slurring. “Not just the power, but everything seems so uncertain.” I lifted my arm and waved it toward the window. “I mean the planet itself. It’s like whatever catastrophe shut everything down also made the earth unstable. You know like it might just start crumbling all around us.” And it made me want to reach for him, to grab on and hold tight. Because I had this feeling that even if the world crumbled, somehow Tuck would figure out a way to survive. The comfort I’d just felt took on a shade of fear, and I scooted closer to him.

He turned toward me, so our faces were only inches apart. “No, Em. Whatever’s going on, the earth will be okay. This planet has survived shifting plates and ice ages, volcanoes, tsunamis. The earth will be fine and so will we.”

“Will we, Tuck?”

“I promised you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”

I felt the ghost of a smile hover over my mouth. “Yeah, but even you can’t protect me from everything.”

My words blended together. I couldn’t feel my lips anymore. And the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep was, “Watch me.”

Day Nine

I’d woken tangled with Tuck, his breath soft against my temple, and something decidedly hard against my belly. My body had come instantly awake even if my mind was still half-asleep.I’d felt Tuck stir, and I’d known the moment he realized the situation, scooting out of bed so quickly he’d practically fallen off the side. I’d felt momentarily offended, and definitely frustrated, and pretended to keep sleeping until he’d shaken me “awake,” saying we needed to get on the road.

We left the Pritchards before the sun had fully risen, our breath pluming in the chilly morning air. I looked back only once, trying to memorize the place where, for a moment in time, I’d felt safe and welcomed. And I said a silent prayer that their family would be okay.

Around midday, Tuck scored us a bag of almonds from an abandoned car, and we counted them out by the side of the road, Tuck pouring my half into my open palm. I popped one in my mouth, moaning as I chewed. Tuck’s eyes lowered slightly and then he looked away. He’d been quiet for much of the day so far, and perhaps a little tense. It was fine. I had a lot on my mind too, and I lost myself in the music in my head, melodies and lyrics flowing through me like a waterfall. Part of me wished I had something—anything—to write them down on, but another part knew that I wouldn’t forget. These weren’t fleeting notes that I was trying desperately to catch. These songs were already deeply ingrained as if they’d existed inside me all along, and it’d only taken a worldwide catastrophe and a multistate walk to jar them loose.

Plus, the slight hangover I had didn’t exactly make me feel chatty. As much as taking the edge off my current circumstances had felt good in the moment, I decided I wasn’t going to drink my way through this.

We finished the almonds and drank some water and started walking again. Hours later, the sun drifting low, Tuck stopped and held the map up, swearing softly.

“Please don’t tell me we’re lost,” I said, looking around. We’d walked through a small town earlier and then into a park that had dog-walking paths and bike trails.But it seemed that we’d suddenly found ourselves in a stretch of woods that I’d hoped would let out onto a main road, but as of yet, had not. I put my hand on my forehead. “Oh my God, you got us lost.”

Tuck turned toward me, jaw tight. “Emily, do you want to lead the way? Maybe you could do a better job.”

“Maybe I could,” I bit back. I was hungry and thirsty, and I just wanted to lie down in a cozy bed again and instead I was tromping through some muddy woods. And I’d woken up pressed against Tuck and wanting him to kiss me so badly I still ached with it. And he hadn’t spared me more than a few words over the course of an entire day. And to add insult to injury, now he’d gotten us lost. Wonderful.

He turned, focusing his full attention on me. “Yes, you probably could,” he said. “Hell, if you don’t need me anymore, then maybe we should part ways.”

“It’s probably for the best,” I shot back, even if the very idea of parting from Tuck practically turned my insides to water. We came together, the heat of our sudden fight drawing me, and seeming to do the same to him.

He turned his head slightly, shutting one eye as though in consideration. “Then again, you have something I want and so I’m not going to let you go quite yet.”

Our breath mingled, bodies so close I could feel his heat. I wanted to be tangled with him again. I wanted to feel his hardness pressed against my stomach. And I wanted him to want me with the same white-hot intensity.

“I do?” I asked breathily.

He brought his face close to mine and then leaned toward my ear. “I want that almond you saved in your pocket.” He drew back and then his face blossomed in a grin, and though I was hyped up on anger and sexual frustration, I couldn’t help bursting out in laughter.

I pushed him away and dug the almond from my pocket.“Never,” I said, beginning to bring it to my mouth, my tongue extended. But he caught my wrist, and I let out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a scream as he spun me around, fake fighting for the singular almond.

“Give it here,” he said, and I laughed again, tripping over something on the forest floor and flailing backward, landing on the soft backpack I was wearing and wheezing out another laugh.

“Never!” I repeated, attempting to bring the almond to my mouth again. Tuck lowered himself on top of me and grabbed my wrist, halting the almond near my mouth. We wrestled, fighting for the almond as I laughed and squirmed, the grin on Tuck’s face wolfish with excitement.

He pinned my arm and went toward the almond with his mouth as I laughed and struggled, both of us panting and writhing in ways that were dialing my sexual frustration up to a hundred. But I couldn’t deny that I loved it. Fighting with Tuck had always been thrilling, and apparently, I’d never grown out of it. And, if his flushed face and rapid breathing were any indication, he felt the same way. He bit off the almond and I let out a gasp of outrage before he brought his face up, the piece of almond between his straight white teeth. I lifted my hand, realizing he’d split it in half.

“Humph,” I said, and popped the other half in my mouth, both of us chewing and smiling stupidly at each other. “Consider that your payment for helping me get home,” I muttered.

“Paid in full,” he said. Then he chuckled and got off me and held out his hand to help me up.

“Good, now get us out of—” I spotted something over his shoulder. “Oh my gosh, Tuck, look.”

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