We slowly kissed each other, letting our hands do the talking.
And when I sank into him more, needing more, he slowly stripped me out of my clothes, and I did the same to him.
He licked my breasts, paying particular attention to the nipples, and when he knelt between my thighs, lapping at my clit and spreading me for his gaze, I blushed but pressed myself against him, needing more. He sucked and he blew cool air on me, and when he latched on, eating me out until I nearly bucked off the bed, I came, clenching my thighs around his face. Blushing, I let my knees fall to the sides, and then he was over me, sliding a condom over his rigid length before moving between my legs again. I brought my legs around his waist, tugging him closer. When he slid into me, I groaned, stretching. This felt like something we had been doing for eons. It felt like peace, perfection. But I pushed those thoughts from my mind once again and just lived in the moment. He kissed me, paid special attention to my neck, my breasts, and then he began to move. We met thrust for thrust, both of us arching. And when he rolled onto his back, and I lifted my hips to ride him, he played with my breasts, and I slid my hands over his, tangling my fingers with his as he cupped me. I met his gaze, his eyes dark. The look I saw there—one of so much emotion, the kind that neither of us would dare speak of—was too much. I came, my body shaking with the orgasm as I fell into the abyss.
It was perfection. It was everything.
And it was utterly overwhelming.
He came with me, shouting my name as I screamed again, slamming into me one last time. I fell onto him, and he collapsed, both of us sweat-slick and holding each other. I could barely breathe, could hardly keep up, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was Dillon and me. And this, just for the night.
He kissed me, and we cleaned ourselves up before we crawled back into bed, both of us still naked and pressed against one another. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder and his body wrapped around mine. And I felt like I was home.
The next morning came far too quickly, but I still had an afternoon class, and Dillon had a mid-morning one. We showered together, and I got my morning shower orgasm. Laughing, we got ready for the day. Once we were decent, we stumbled downstairs, him carrying my bag, and me wishing I had coffee in my veins.
Everybody in the house was already up, and they looked at us as we came into the kitchen. I knew I was blushing from head to toe. From the looks on their faces, they were well aware of what we had done.
Miles cleared his throat. “Hey, guys,” he said.
I looked between all of them and ducked my head. “Hi,” I said.
I could feel Dillon scowling. “What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. We just...” Mackenzie began and then blushed, hiding behind Sanders.
Sanders rolled his eyes. “We just realized how thin our walls actually are when we’re not playing music.”
He said it quickly, and everyone scowled at him.
In sheer mortification, I swallowed hard, blinking.
“Oh my God.”
“Sanders,” Dillon growled.
“What?”
“We don’t talk about it,” Mackenzie snapped, standing up for us. “I’m sure they can hear us, too.”
“Oh, we can,” Tanner mumbled.
This time, Mackenzie blushed. “See? We just pretend it isn’t happening because all of us will have to deal with it at one point. Sorry.”
I shook my head, knowing that I shouldn’t be embarrassed. I might be bright red at the moment, but I still raised my chin.
“You know what, if I’m old enough to have sex, I’m old enough to deal with the fact that others might be able to hear me enjoying it. Sorry.”
“No worries, sounded like you had fun,” Sanders said and ducked Tanner’s fist though he wasn’t fast enough to avoid Mackenzie’s elbow.
I cringed but mumbled my thanks as Pacey handed Dillon and me two travel mugs.
“Here’s your coffee. We’ve got you. And we won’t discuss this again,” Pacey said softly.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“We might be discussing this again,” Dillon grumbled to Sanders but led me out the back door anyway.
“Sorry about that,” Dillon said.
I shook my head and got into the truck with him. “I should have realized, but I didn’t factor in how loud I would be. Louder than usual.”
This time, Dillon’s smug look made me roll my eyes. “Glad I could make you forget.”
“Jerk,” I mumbled.
“You’re a jerk,” he said, and I leaned back into the seat and smiled.
“Yes, my jerk.”
I was happy. I was trying to find my balance. Maybe I was floundering in some ways, but I was making it work.
I had my friends, I had Dillon, his friends, and maybe I’d be able to work things out with my family. I had to hope so. We just needed some time to breathe, and we’d make it work.
Things were finally starting to work for me, and I would let them.
“Let me walk you in,” Dillon said.
“Dillon, I’m fine.”
“But I want to kiss you on your doorstep. Let me.”
I blushed. “Okay, I’ll let you.”
I smiled again and then opened the front door, only to have the world shatter around me.
“Corinne?” I asked. There was no response.
My best friend lay on the floor, her white pajama top strewn about her as the cup next to her lay shattered, coffee spilled around her.
Her eyes were open, vacant, and I screamed.
Chapter 17
Dillon
I usually had words for any occasion. I was the guy others could lean on if things were heavy or too much. I’d learned to be that way when I moved to Denver and my family had gone through hell. I’d thought I could handle anything. Watching Elise break down, albeit silently, told me I’d been wrong.
So wrong.
I barely remembered my mother’s funeral—not that we’d had one for her. It had only been Cameron and me, as none of her so-called friends had shown. We hadn’t had a graveside service, just a small moment in time when we gathered around the coroner and identified the body. I wasn’t sure if that counted as a funeral or just a goodbye that never made sense. But it was what we had done.
And now I was here at a time of true mourning, a funeral with shattered hopes and dreams and one that was breaking my family and friends.
When we had walked into the girls’ house, everything had changed. Elise had started screaming, and then it finally hit me what we were seeing.
Corinne had only been twenty years old. Healthy, vivacious, and full of life.
And a brain aneurysm that nobody had noticed had taken her life. A brain aneurysm that doctors might not have even been able to see even if they had run scans out of the blue for no reason whatsoever.
Corinne Prince was dead. At twenty years old. And I still couldn’t quite believe it.
I knew Elise didn’t believe it at all. She wasn’t allowing herself to grieve or even think about what had happened.
I wasn’t sure if she could.
As soon as we had seen Corinne, I had tossed my phone to Elise and told her to call 911. Corinne had been home alone, as the rest of the girls had already been out at their classes. No one had been there with her when she died.