Faster.
Hard enough to pin her to the counter.
She sucks on my finger.
Groans against the digit.
Fuck, the feel of her soft body against mine.
Of her groans against my flesh.
It's fucking heaven.
I fill her with steady thrusts. Again and again.
She pulls back to gasp.
I claw at her back.
She rocks her hips. Groans my name.
It's a whisper. But it's enough to send me over the edge.
I bring my lips to her neck to suck on her skin.
Thrusting into her as I come.
I spill every drop.
Fuck.
It's like I haven't come in months.
Every part of me feels good. Relaxed. Spent.
But I need her coming too.
I muffle her with one hand. Slide the other down her torso.
And I stroke her. Harder and harder. Until she's groaning against my palm.
There. I keep that same pressure. That same pace.
I stroke her until she's coming on my hand, groaning against my palm, clutching at the tile.
I keep her pressed against the counter.
And I tilt her head and bring my lips to hers.
And I kiss her like I'll never get enough of her.
Because I won't.
Not ever.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kaylee
"You sound happy," Grandma says. "Boy problems must be over."
I am happy. At least about the boy problems. The continuing vagueness about her condition—not so much. "It's good. He's... we're good."
"Good how?"
I fall onto my bed on my back. Press my cell to my ear. It's just good. What else is there to explain? "He forgave me and we—"
"Had makeup sex?"
"Grandma! I swear. You're a pervert."
"Everyone's a pervert, Kay-bear. It's just I don't give a fuck about hiding it. You won't either when you're my age."
"Maybe." A lot of my thoughts are about sex. Dirty sex. And so are Brendon's. And Em is always talking about it. And Dean is obviously dirty as hell. "There's merit to that argument."
"I hate to be a parent—"
"Then don't."
"But if your mother finds out about this—"
"I know. But she can't. I can't afford to rent my own place. And she and Dad can't afford to cover my expenses. This is the only way."
"What if it doesn't work out?"
That's a strong possibility. Brendon doesn't want complicated. And I'm complicated. This whole situation is hopelessly complicated. "I'll figure it out."
"You have somewhere to stay if you need to?"
"Why would I?"
"You never know with men."
"I know."
"You have a place or not?"
"Yeah." Ryan, Dean, and Walker have all made blanket you can crash at my place anytime offers. And plenty of my coworkers like me enough to offer their couch. "I have places."
"Good. Then tell me more about the boy."
"After you help me pick a weekend to visit. The prices are crazy for the next two weeks. But all the weekends after are good. All the way until Thanksgiving. And after. But you won't talk me out of coming before Thanksgiving."
"You should be focusing on school."
"It's a weekend."
She lets out a soft sigh. "It's too expensive."
"It's only a few hundred dollars. I have money saved."
She's quiet for a minute. "Anytime is fine."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
I look to my computer screen. There are a million options. I find the soonest one that doesn't cost a fortune. It leaves on a Friday morning. The Friday morning after that concert.
I'll be tired at the airport, but that's all the better for sleeping on the plane.
"You think Mom can pick me up from Newark?" I fill in the form. Name. Address. Credit card.
"You're telling her about this?"
"I guess so." Mom has been arguing I shouldn't come. Grandma too. It doesn't make sense. At all. But I can't piece things together from voice alone. I need to look them in the eyes. I need to see for myself. And I will. I'll know in two and a half weeks. "There. I did it. I'll forward you the itinerary."
"Sure. Now tell me more about the guy."
"You know everything about him."
"I know he's tall and hot. That's it."
"He's quiet. Usually, with other people, he's more to himself. But when he's with me, he laughs. And when he smiles... it's like the clouds part and the birds sing. He has the most beautiful smile."
"You're smitten."
"I know. He... he's everything." I get caught up in my gushing. And, for a while, I forget why I'm flying back to Jersey.
I forget that Grandma is sick.
That she won't tell me how sick.
I forget that everything isn't going to be okay.
After I hang up with Grandma, and finish most of my homework, I boot up a project that's been kicking around my head forever.
My first real piece of original fiction.
Only it's currently three sentences.
He has beautiful lips. They're soft, plush, the perfect shade of rose-pink. I want to dive into those lips and swim forever.
It's supposed to be a coming of age story. About a girl who wants a boy she shouldn't have.
I know, I know, it sounds autobiographical. But it's not. That's the problem. Everyone who reads this will think it's about me.
Or worse, that it's about me and Brendon.
This is the scene where they meet. I have it all in my head. He's across the room at a coffee shop. Sitting there. Reading. Some stranger she never expects to see again.
Until her best friends comes in. Kisses him. Introduces him as her boyfriend, the one who just moved to town.
I have plenty to say about his eyes. His concentration. His hands.
But after that...
It's scary, jumping into a project that will be all mine.
What if I can't do it?
I want to. I want to prove I can. To myself and to Grandma. If she's sicker than she's letting on, if there really isn't much time, then I want her to know I'll be okay.
That I'll keep doing the thing I love, the thing that brings us together.
It's an ugly thought.
If Grandma's dying.
But I let it flow through me. I let it tighten my throat. I let it sit on my chest. I let it make the warm room cold.
I let it make the—
Oh.
There's a knock on my door. Then Brendon's voice. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." My voice is soft. It's hitting me there. "Come in."
He steps inside. Presses the door closed with his back. He looks the same as always—jeans, t-shirt, bare feet—but there's something different about him today. An expression. I don't know how else to explain it.
"Kay." He moves to me. Drops to his knees in front of me. His palm presses against my cheek. A tear catches on his thumb. "What's wrong, angel?"