Page 23 of Waiting For Ever
“Yeah,” she answers, not looking up.
I reach out to tilt her chin to look at me. “What’d I say?”
“You mostly said ‘no.’”
“I...I don’t remember.” I rub the scruff on my jaw. “Thank you for ... Thank you.”
She nods slowly, her eyes tracking mine.
I comb my fingers through the hair on my forehead, pushing it back off my face. “I haven’t had a bad dream in a long time. Thought maybe I was cured,” I say with a grim smile.
She attempts a smile back but pinches her lips together instead.
“Hey. What’s up? What’d I say?”
She looks up at me, eyes round and the lightest shade of gray I’ve ever seen, and answers. “You were asking Taya not to leave. Then you sort of woke up and pulled me down next to you and fell back to sleep. I mean, you called me by my name before you did though. I didn’t want to wake you, so I stayed. I hope that’s okay.”
She sounds dejected, and I hate myself right now.
“Of course it’s okay. More than okay. Listen, Ever, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you. I should leave you alone. You’re too good for me.”
“Not according to everyone in Oak Valley.” Her face falls with that revelation.
“Well, they’re all idiots.” I reach out and stroke her face, and my touch causes her cheeks to flush. I prefer the flush to the sadness and place a soft kiss on her cheek.
Shyly, she looks up through her lashes and asks, “What if I don’t want you to?”
“To what?”
“Leave me alone?”
With a groan, I roll onto my back and exhale at the ceiling. “Ever, what are you doing to me?”
Without missing a beat, she responds, “Nothing . . . apparently.”
“How are there not a hundred guys begging you to fall in love with them?”
Playing coy, she says, “Well, I don’t get out much.”
Groaning, I resume my spot, rolling over and planking my arms on either side of her head, hovering my torso above hers so I don’t crush her and straddle her with my legs. I press my forehead to hers and watch her wet her lips with her tongue.God, I want this girl so much.My groin aches with the need to sink into her. But now that I know she’s a virgin, I also know I’ve got no business going there—yet. Or possibly ever. There would be a special place in hell for me for thinking I even deserve her. I must’ve done something to make the gods believe I deserve another chance at something, someone so breathtaking.
Her fingernail is tracing the heart outline on my chest, and her touch alone is striking a match. Her words douse the flames. “Do you miss her? Taya? That’s her name, right? Your girlfriend who died?”
I resume my earlier spot, rolling onto my side, her finger sliding down my torso and landing softly on the bed between us as I shift. “I don’t let myself.” She nods her head slightly, absorbing my answer. “We were young,” I add. “And...I don’t know...clumsy. Kids. I think it’s easy to idealize and romanticize something like that once it’s gone. It’s hard to even remember what it was really like. It’s all wrapped up in this unjust pain of a life gone too soon. All the what-ifs and the should’ve-could’ve-would’ve thoughts. I don’t know if I miss her or miss not feeling this hollowness in my chest.”
She nods again like she knows what I mean, and I’m reminded of Allie telling me Everly lost her dad.
I want to take that faraway look off her face. I want to not think about the past. I try to shift the conversation to something safer. “When I’m with you, it’s easy to forget. When I’m with you, it’s like nothing existed before you.” I don’t choose my response. The words just spill out, shocking me because every one of them is true.
This enigma in my arms impresses me yet again by accepting my answer and shifting gears. “So, you think you might kiss me again?” She’s tracing my tattoo again.
Chuckling, I nuzzle her neck and breathe in her intoxicating scent. “Yeah,” I whisper into her ear, “I think I might.”
I trail light kisses along her cheek until I reach her lips, which are slightly parted. She tilts her head toward me for better access. I feel her breath on my lips, and I can’t not kiss her, even if I tried. I plunge my tongue into her mouth. Hers is there to meet mine, stroke forstroke. Like she’s kissed a dozen boys a hundred times, likes he knows exactly what she’s doing. And it drives me mad. I’m rolling onto her in seconds. Fitting perfectly between her legs, I grind into her. She raises her hips to meet every thrust. Her hands are gripping the sides of my face. Her nails scrape my neck as she pulls me down harder on her lips.
I’m going to have this girl. I decide right then that hell will be a worthy trade-off. I glide my hand over her ribs to the hem of her top and under it. Her skin is silk. Her stomach flat. As my fingers graze the underside of her breast, goose bumps raise on her skin. Her breast fills my hand fully and I squeeze, gently at first, then harder.
Her gasp fills my mouth in a sweet moan. She releases my neck and grips my bicep, nails digging in and pulling me to her. “Mmm.”
