Suddenly, I’m feeling hot. Furious. I’m wearing too many clothes, and I’m sweating, and I need air. I knew I resented him, but now, this emotion inside me feels bigger.
“Come here.” Sol tosses his shoes aside, reaches for my arm, and pulls me to his side. He wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. “God, Gracie. I’m so sorry. I had no idea,” he murmurs into my hair.
“Same here,” I mutter into his chest. “I mean, all that stuff just poured out of my mouth . . . I had no idea I’d bottled up so much inside me.”
“How do you feel?”
I pull back and meet his gaze. “Slightly better. It’s just—you see now where my mom is coming from. She sacrificed everything for me, her dream to attend college. Her parents wanted her to take care of the problem so she could move forward with the plans they had for her, and when she refused, she was completely on her own after that. Without a second thought, she withdrew whatever little savings she had and moved to Portland.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and open my heart, letting the words bleed out of it. “Bev and her mom, Regina, helped my mom a lot when she moved to Portland. We moved out when I was about three years old, despite Regina insisting we should stay until my mom got back on her feet. I guess she didn’t want to overstay our welcome.
“From what she told me later, she’d underestimated how challenging it would be being a single mom with no college education and an extra mouth to feed. Some of my earliest memories growing up were of various men, different ones every night, coming and going from our house. I must have been around four or five years old. She tried to shield me from her . . . activities, but it wasn’t easy. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment. I slept in the bedroom, and she slept on the couch in the living room. Then she got the job as a maid, and it kept her busy. I knew it wasn’t normal for men to walk in and out of our house, mostly during the night. Bev’s mom would pick me up from daycare when my mom couldn’t, and we’d spend the afternoon baking at her house.
“Regina passed away a couple of years ago after contracting pneumonia. According to the doctors, her body became resistant to antibiotics and it finally gave out. She was like a grandmother to me.”
I inhale quick breaths and squeeze my eyes shut to ease the ache in my chest. When I open them again, I find Sol taking in my features, and whatever he sees there has him cursing under his breath. His fingers cup my nape.
“What happened to your grandparents?” He practically spits the words, his nostrils flaring.
“I’ve only met them once. They visited us the summer I turned thirteen.”
“And . . .?”
I finally smile. “They’re a little snobby.”
He chuckles.
“They opened a college fund in my name after the visit.” I sigh, pressing my forehead to his chest. “Maybe they did it out of guilt for throwing out their daughter. I don’t know. My grandmother calls me every once in a while. I have a feeling they miss their only child, but they are too proud to admit it.”
He clears his throat. “You know dads are supposed to be there for their kids and take care of them, right?”
“I do.”
“Yours doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
I bump the side of his arm with mine and murmur, “That’s really sweet. Thank you.”
The image of my mom, looking tired and worried, flashes inside my head, and suddenly, I want to go home and check on her. I lift my head to look up at Sol. “Please take me home? I need to talk to my mom before she goes to bed. She and I have this thing we do whenever one of us is pissed off with the other. We promised to never go to bed angry.”
He kisses my forehead. After brushing the sand off our feet as best as we can, we slip on our shoes, and then he takes my hand in his. We start walking back toward the car. I didn’t realize we’d wandered so far from the parking lot, so it takes us longer than I’d imagined to get to his truck. Sol keeps throwing cautious glances in my direction as if he’s afraid I might disappear.
“What do you want?” I ask, attempting to break this weird vibe around us.
He stares at me, eyebrows creased. “Right now? Well, I want to take you home so you can talk to your mom.”
I shake my head. “Earlier, you said you want things you have no business wanting.” My voice shakes on the last word, but I forge ahead, feeling brave all of a sudden. “What do you want? You never said.”
The frown deepens. “It’s not important.”
We stop in front of his truck.
“I don’t agree with that. You are important. So whatever it is, is important, too. What do you want, Solomon Callan?”
He rolls his eyes and ducks his head down, but I see his shy smile as he shoves his hands inside the pockets of his shorts. He stares down at his feet still covered in sand. For just a few seconds, I wonder if he’s going to answer my question.
Then he takes a step forward, pulling his hands from his pockets, and rests them on my hips. He lifts his head just a little and stares at me through his lashes, smiling softly. We just stare at each other, hearts wide open.
And for just an infinite second, I pretend we’re two people standing on the edge of forever.
“I want—I want you. I want to kiss you just like that night at the diner.” He inhales sharply. “I see you everywhere. Even when I’m on my knees praying to God, I see you. It’s as if you’re that missing beat in my heart. I don’t know. It sounds stupid. I can’t really explain it. All I know is that it’s you. It’s always been you.”
I blink up at him, my mind processing those words, but I think my brain cells are either fried or swooning because I’m still stuck on ‘It’s always been you.’
And then, the impact of his words hits me. His feelings echo mine, but I’m not about to admit that to him. Instead, I hike on my tiptoes and press a kiss on the side of his mouth. He inhales sharply, and his hands tighten around my hips as he murmurs, “Gracie.”
And that voice, the way my name sounds on his lips, half groan, half whisper, seals the deal for me.
Holy crap. I’m so screwed.
“Kiss me, Sol,” I whisper, cupping his jaw in my hands. “Forget for just one second you are you and I’m me. Let’s pretend we are two people standing under the stars reveling in this magical moment. This is our safe space. No one is watching us. Kiss me.”
His forehead is bunched in a frown as indecision dances in his eyes as he stares at my mouth. Then it’s like a switch has been flipped inside him. He makes this sexy sound similar to a growl and mumbles, “Maybe Ivan was right. I need to get you out of my system. Maybe I’ll be able to move on after this.”
And with that, he grips my hips tighter and walks me back until my backside hits the front of his truck. My back arches as I lean onto the hood, his body following mine as though we’re caught up in a dance only our bodies know.
My dress bunches around my hips when I swing my legs up and wrap them around his waist. His narrow hips fit perfectly between my thighs, and the bulge in his shorts presses down on me. He shifts and oh my God. Oh, my freaking God! He hasn’t done anything yet, but I want everything. I don’t know what it entails, but I want it so badly.