Someone You Love by Kristen Granata

Charly

“Oh, God. What if this is where he kills you? What if he takes you out in the middle of a lake and dumps your body?”

I roll my eyes. “You’ve gotta take a break from watching those murder documentaries, Jenny. It’s messing with your brain.”

“It’s my job to look out for you. If he kills you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“If he kills me, I won’t be able to say anything.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“I’m more worried about snakes on the campground than Bryce murdering me.” I smile. “I’ve gotta run. Just wanted to check in.”

“Share your location with me so I know where to send the search team when you turn up missing.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. How does someone turn up missing?”

“Just do it!” she screeches.

I throw my head back and laugh as I end the call. But I accept her location invite just in case. One can never be too careful.

“Jenny thinks you’re going to murder me,” I say as I breeze into the kitchen at the inn.

Bryce’s chin jerks back. “Who’s Jenny, and why does she think I’m a murderer?”

“She’s my best friend, and she doesn’t like that I’m going camping with a six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound linebacker.”

He smirks as he plates two Belgium waffles. “Sounds like a good friend.”

“The best. She’s fiercely loyal, and she’d do anything for me. So if you do plan on murdering me, you’ll have her to answer to.”

He rests his knuckles on the island, and the muscles in his arms dance under his skin. “If I wanted to murder you, why would I go through the trouble in taking you on a trip when I could just kill you in your sleep?”

“Because you could dispose of my body in a lake. Plus, you wouldn’t want to implicate Nana by killing someone on her property.”

He nods in agreement. “True. Nana would never last a day in jail.”

“Not without her heels.” I grin. “Hey, does Nana ever get out? I mean, besides shopping in town. I kind of feel guilty that she’s stuck here while we go off galivanting for the weekend.”

The door swings open, and Nana walks in. “I’ve done plenty of galivanting in my day. You two enjoy yourselves.”

Bryce exits the kitchen holding a tray to serve the hungry guests in the dining room.

Nana waits until the door closes before turning to me. “Promise me you’ll be careful out there. Keep an eye on him for me.”

My head tilts to the side. “What do you mean?”

She lowers her voice, coming around the corner of the island. “Sometimes he pushes himself too hard. I know he’s strong and capable, but I worry about him.”

“Because of his injury.”

She nods. “He’s come a long way, but he still has his limitations. He can forget that at times.”

Unease twists my gut hearing Beatrice talk about Bryce like this. She’s the only family he has left, and I know she feels like it’s her duty to look after him. But she should trust that he’s able to make decisions for himself when it comes to his physical capabilities.

“Bryce wouldn’t do something if he didn’t think he could do it.” I squeeze her hand. “You have nothing to worry about. We’ll be safe, I promise.”

Bryce walks back through the door, and Nana clears her throat. “You kids get out of here. I’ll handle the dishes today.”

We protest, but she shoos us out of the kitchen.

I kiss Edward on the head, and give him a long hug. “You be a good boy for Beatrice, you hear me?”

Bryce is quiet until we get out to the porch. “What did Nana say to you?”

I feign ignorance. “What? When?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “She was whispering, and that woman never whispers. What did she say, Charly?”

“She’s worried about you.”

“Because of our trip?”

I nod.

He blows out a frustrated breath through his nose. “Unbelievable.”

I stay silent, unsure of what to say. I can’t pretend to know what he’s feeling, but I can appreciate that it must be frustrating to be handled with kid gloves when you’re a grown adult.

He paces while he talks. “It’s like I’m still stuck in that wheelchair, no matter how much progress I make. No matter how much I’ve accomplished, I’ll always be looked at as a pitiful person who can’t do anything on his own.”

“I don’t think she—”

“Let’s just forget this, okay? Go hang out by the pool, and we’ll forget the whole trip.”

“No.” I tug his wrist until he’s standing in front of me, looking into my eyes. “I know Nana is worried, but that thought didn’t even cross my mind. Don’t let this ruin the fun you planned for us. I’ve been so excited to go camping with you.”

The muscles in his jaw pop, and his feet remain planted on the porch.

Stubborn. I trot down the stairs, and start making my way into the gravel parking lot. I won’t let him give up on himself because someone else thinks he should. I stop beside his truck, and cross my arms over my chest, tapping my foot as I wait.

Bryce gives in, and meets me at the passenger side. Without a word he swings open the door for me, and I hop inside.

We ride for a few minutes in silence before I break it with a question. “Have you ever told Nana how she makes you feel?”

His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “She just says it’s her job to look out for me.”

“But she wouldn’t be as worried if you didn’t have a spinal injury.”

“Exactly. She doesn’t mean to hurt me. Most people think they’re helping, but they don’t realize that they treat me like I’m half of a person. Less than them. They project their preconceived notions onto me, and try to make decisions for me without really talking to me. Even the doctors told me it was unlikely that I’d walk again.” He glances at me before returning his gaze to the road. “Why would they say that to someone unless they were sure? Why put that idea in someone’s head?”

I stick my hand out the window, and let the warm breeze slip through my fingers. “There are many things that doctors aren’t sure of. They aren’t the end-all-be-all. I used to read a lot about the power of positive thinking, and you’d be surprised how much our bodies rely on our thought process. There’s a documentary on Netflix called—”

“Heal.” Bryce nods. “I’ve seen it.”

“I tried to keep Mom’s spirits up, but it wasn’t easy. Cancer treatment took so much out of her, especially toward the end.”

“Do you think she’s excited, looking down on you as we drive to our destination right now?”

“She totally is.” I pause. “I just have one question: Will there be snakes?”

“Do you mean palm trees, or actual snakes?”

I nudge his arm. “Actual snakes, smart ass.”

He chuckles, low and raspy. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

The way he says it with such conviction makes me feel warm and fuzzy. Still, “Have you seen how fast a snake can move? They don’t have any bones. They just slither,” I move my hand in a zigzag, “and bam! They bite you and stick you with venom. They’re evil, scaly little creatures. And don’t get me started on their shedding skin.” I shiver. “What are you afraid of?”

He puffs up his chest. “I’m not scared of anything.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, macho man. Everyone’s scared of something.”

“Not me.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“I mean, would I shit my pants if a shark was in front of me? Sure. Would I try to pet a grizzly bear? Not a chance. But I have respect for animals, and I’m fascinated by them. Even the scary ones. They all serve their purpose in life.”

“Well, snakes can serve their purpose far away from me.”

I cast my gaze out the windshield at the blur of trees and cars we pass. Several miles later, Bryce turns into a parking lot past a sign that reads Acadia National Park.

Excitement bubbles in my stomach. I lean forward as my eyes dart around the heavily wooded area. Tour busses wait along the side of the lot, loading long lines of tourists. Other groups go off into the forest on their own, wearing large backpacks and carrying camping equipment.

Bryce shifts his truck into park, and I fling open my door, hopping out and inhaling a lungful of fresh air.

Bryce rounds the back end of his truck, and lowers the tailgate. “There’s a lot to do here, but I could only pack so much into two days. If you like it, we can come back.”

“I love it. I want to come back.”

He smirks, sliding a Patriots hat over his head. “You don’t know what we’re doing yet. What if I’m taking you to snake mountain?”

My hands freeze at my sides. “Please tell me that’s not a real thing.”

He shakes his head, and hands me a baseball cap with the New York Yankees logo on it. “Put this on, and don’t tell anyone that I spent my money on a New York team. Let’s get sunscreened up before we go. Don’t want that pretty skin of yours to burn.”

I lift my eyebrows. “You think I’m pretty?”

He coughs. “I mean ... uh ... your skin is fair.”

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?”

“That’s not what I said. Of course, you’re pretty. I just meant ... you know ... the sun ... ah, shit.”

I tip my head back and cackle. “You’re too easy.” I squirt a generous amount of sunscreen into my palm, and nudge him with my elbow. “I think you’re pretty too.”

He rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

Oh, yeah. This trip is going to be fun.

Bryce

“Snake!”

Charly shrieks, and scrambles behind me. “Where is it?”

I clutch my stomach as my laughter bellows into the wilderness, scattering a few nearby birds.

She smacks my arm. “Would you stop doing that? You’re like the boy who cried snake. You’re going to see one for real, and I won’t believe you, and then I’ll end up dead from a venomous bite.”

“Guess you’ll have to believe me every time.”

She growls, which has the effect of angry Tinkerbell. “You’re lucky this place is too beautiful for me to stay mad at you.”

I watch her face as she turns it up toward the sun, her eager green eyes taking in the beauty all around us—the birds in the trees, the bees buzzing around the vibrant roses along the trail, the jagged rocks overlooking the blue Atlantic—and all the while, she’s oblivious to the fact that she’s the most beautiful thing in this entire park.

Instead of questioning my ability to take her on an adventure, she put her faith in me, and trusted that I’d be able to handle whatever I planned for her. That was a pleasant surprise. She didn’t bat an eye when I took out my arm crutches instead of my cane. What’s more, I didn’t hesitate to use them in front of her. I’m not ashamed of using a mobility aid to help me. Does a person hesitate to use a ladder when he needs to climb higher? No. So I shouldn’t feel embarrassed to use something that helps me walk. But I’ve learned over the years that the visual representation of my injury makes other people uncomfortable. It makes them treat me differently than they would’ve if they saw me walking without it.

I used to hate the term disabled. I was in a place of anger and denial after my accident. But I spent time in rehab, and I learned the importance of that term from people within the disabled community. We need the word to become destigmatized in order for able-bodied people to understand what it means for us. It’s more than a label, or a box to put us in. It’s who we are, and that is nothing to be ashamed about.

After Nana warned Charly this morning, I was sure I should call the whole thing off. Now, I’m grateful that I didn’t let my ego get the better of me, because I’d be missing out on seeing Charly’s face light up. Her emotion is pure, and she wears it on her sleeve like a badge of honesty. She makes me want to be more like her. Carefree, spontaneous, curious, open to the wonder around her. I’ve been closed off for a long time. This is the first time in years that I’ve felt a spark of hope.

Charly is the light to my shadow, and I want to bask in her warmth wherever she goes.

Anticipation coils around my gut as we reach the first destination on the trail. Charly gasps as the trees give way to an open sunlit cliff. Water crashes against the rocks below while seagulls circle above, calling to one another as they swoop down for fish.

“Look at this view.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket, and snaps pictures from every angle.

“Give me your phone.” I hold out my palm. “I’ll take a picture of you.”

Instead, she slips her hand into mine, and pulls me to where she’s standing. “Take one with me.” She wraps her arm around my waist, snuggling her cheek against my chest. She fits like that’s where she belongs.

She lifts her phone for a selfie, and pauses. “Half your head is cut off. You’re too damn tall.”

I take the phone from her, and hold it up. “Or maybe you’re just too shrimpy.”

She glares up at me, and I grin as I take the first photo.

We take a couple more, from smiling to sticking out our tongues. On the last take, she swipes her tongue across my cheek.

I wipe off her spit, and arch a brow. “Be careful where you stick that thing.”

She plants her hands on her hips, giving me a playful smirk. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“You bring it near me again, and you’re not getting it back.”

I surprise myself letting those words out, but she surprises me even more with her comeback.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She winks, and continues taking pictures, as if our flirty banter has no effect on her whatsoever.

My dick, on the other hand, is so affected.

I don’t recommend hiking with a boner. Not fun.

We continue along the trail, and head down the other side of the cliff. As each group of hikers pass us, their eyes flick to my crutches, to my legs, and back again. By now, I’m used to the stares. Used to people searching for a visible sign of my injury. But Charly isn’t.

Her nose scrunches. “They act like they’ve never seen crutches before.”

“It’s a little unusual, seeing a disabled person on a hiking trail.”

“I don’t know if I’d be as nonchalant as you about it.”

I stop and rest against a tree, setting my backpack on the ground by my feet. “I’m in a place where I’m able to shrug it off, but I wasn’t at first. I used to get angry, or forgo going out because I wasn’t in the mood for questions like, What happened to you? and How long will you be like this?”

She takes a sip from her canteen. “Do you still go to therapy?”

I shake my head. “I stopped going a couple years ago. I also went to group counseling sessions for disabled people. Some were veterans, some were born with their disabilities, and others were like me. It really helped me during a dark time in my life. I learned that having a disability doesn’t mean I have to stop doing everything. It just means most things are more challenging.”

She squeezes my forearm. “I’m proud of you for going to therapy. It takes courage to talk about what you’re going through, and ask for help, regardless of what it is.”

“Ah.” I rub the back of my neck. “It wasn’t a big deal. Lots of people go to therapy.”

Her lips part. “You really don’t see what an amazing man you are, do you?”

My pulse quickens. “I’m nothing special. Maybe I was once, on the field.”

She coughs an incredulous laugh. “Your athletic talent doesn’t mean shit if you aren’t a good person.” She pokes my chest with her index finger. “Who you are in here is what sets you apart from everyone else.”

I wrap my fingers around her wrist, and press her palm over my heart, letting her feel the way it beats when she’s near, unable to form the words.

“You’re special, Bryce.” She takes my hand, and presses it to her chest too. “And you’re special to me.”

Her heart hammers the same cadence as mine, like they’re in sync now that they’ve found one another.

I want to close the gap between us, want to kiss her lips and show her how she makes me feel. But I hesitate, and the moment passes.

Charly steps back, her hand dropping to her side. “Where’s our next stop, Mr. Tour Guide?”

I kick off my shoes. “We need to change into our boots before we go any further.”

She squints into the distance. “What is that? There are so many people by the railing.”

“You’ll see.”

I let her walk ahead of me, making sure she goes slow so she doesn’t slip along the wet rocks. The sound of the crashing waves gets louder the closer we get. She keeps turning around to look at me, and I poke her with my crutch to keep going.

“This is so cool how they built a path through the rock for tourists.”

“Come here.” I push through the crowd, and find her a small space to squeeze into against the railing. I stand behind her, bracketing her with my arms while she peers over the railing to look down into the chasm. I try to keep an inch of space between us, but the crowd forces us closer. Her sweet peachy scent mixes with the salty smell of the ocean, and I close my eyes as I breathe deep.

“It looks like a little cave,” she says.

A small child sitting on his father’s shoulders points to the incoming wave. “Here it comes.”

Charly’s eyes dart up to mine. “Here what comes?”

I grin, and whisper in her ear, “Wait for it.”

She shivers, and I love the way her body reacts to my nearness.

As one wave rolls in, it crashes with the air left behind from the previous wave. Water sprays up, shooting over our heads like an erupting volcano, and a loud boom of thunder echoes from the cave.

Everyone cheers, and Charly squeals in delight as we get soaked by the water falling around us. “Oh, my God. What was that?”

“That was Thunder Hole.”

“The waves did that?” She stretches over the railing. “That sound was epic.”

“You don’t always hear it, but we came at the right time, just after high tide started.”

She spins around, and throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

We listen to the sound several more times as the waves roll in and out. Charly snaps more pictures. Then she asks someone to take one of the two of us at the far edge of the cliff. With her palm pressed against my back, her thumb gently brushes over the scar in the middle of my spine, and I wonder if she even knows she’s doing it.

I hug her against me, gripping her waist as tightly as I can.

As if holding onto her can make her stay.

By the evening, we’ve successfully set up one of the two tents I brought, blown up the air mattress, and started a campfire.

“Are you sure you don’t want your own tent?”

Charly shakes her head, eyes wide. “You promised to keep me safe from snakes, and you can’t do that if you’re all the way in another tent.”

“Fair enough.” I take another bite of the fluke I cooked over the fire. “How’s the fish?”

“So good. You were listening when I told Jared what my favorite fish was, weren’t you?”

I smirk. “Maybe.”

“He texted me, you know.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“He asked when I was available to go canoeing. I had to tell him that you already took me.”

“And what did he say to that?”

“He asked me to dinner instead.”

My nostrils flare. “Persistent guy.”

“I told him I wasn’t interested.”

“Hmm.” I take another bite of fish, pretending like that wasn’t the best news I’ve heard all day.

“Yeah, hmm.” She watches me, the open flame dancing in the reflection of her emerald eyes. Then she sets her empty plate on the ground, and squares her shoulders. “Okay, Bryce Holden. Truth or dare?”

I bark out a laugh. “Are you seriously asking me to play Truth or Dare?”

One mischievous eyebrow jumps. “Unless you’re too chicken.”

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to peer pressure me.” I dust off my hands on my shorts, and place my dish on top of hers. “I’ll start with truth.”

She taps her finger on her chin. “What are you really afraid of?”

“I told you on the ride here: I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You picked truth. Let’s hear it.”

I release a reluctant breath, and gaze out at the horizon as the sun sinks further down. “I suppose becoming paralyzed again is a pretty big fear of mine. And it’s not because I wouldn’t be able to walk again. I mean, that sucks, sure. But it’s more because of the way society makes it difficult for people in wheelchairs. Some places aren’t accessible at all, while others claim to be, yet they fall short. It became the topic of every conversation with anyone I met. People don’t realize how rude and ignorant their questions are, or they think they’re being helpful when they’re just perpetuating harmful stereotypes. There isn’t enough positivity surrounding disabled people’s lives, so no one thinks it’s possible to be happy while being in a wheelchair.”

Charly rests her head on my shoulder, listening like she always does, soaking in my words instead of trying to speak about something she doesn’t fully understand.

“You know, there’s something I’ve been thinking about since my friends came to visit. There’s a charity event one of the football wives is throwing in September. I get invited every year, but I never go. It’s to raise money for children with disabilities.”

Charly’s head perks up, and she shifts to face me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking maybe it’s time I go.”

A wide smile breaks across her face like I knew it would. “That’s amazing, Bryce. I think it’d be great, for you and the kids to see you there.”

“I don’t know if I’m the role model-type, but maybe I could help them by sharing my story.”

“You absolutely can.”

“It’s in New York City.”

Charly’s lips part in surprise. “Really?”

I nod. “I was thinking, I don’t know ... maybe I could visit you while I’m there.”

Her hand squeezes mine. “I’d love that. I was just saying to Jenny the other day how weird it’s going to be seeing you and your grandmother every day, and then never seeing you again.”

Every muscle in my body tenses, physically opposed to the notion of Charly walking out of my life for good. “I’d like to think we’ll keep in touch.”

Sadness swims in her eyes, and I wish I knew what she’s thinking. Her life is seven hours away. She has friends and a job to return to. Maine is just a vacation—a break from reality for her—and maybe that’s all I am too.

But I shake it off, and keep the game going. “My turn. Truth or dare?”

“I dare you to walk all the way to the edge of that cliff, and back. By yourself. Without running.”

“But there might be a snake waiting to strike.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. That’s the whole point of a dare.”

She scowls at me.

“You’re cute when you’re angry, Tinkerbell.”

She stands up in a huff, and balls her hands into fists. “You’ll get yours. Wait until it’s my turn again.”

I lean back on my elbows, and cross my ankle over the other. “You’re stalling.”

Charly hops from one foot to the other, psyching herself up for her dare. “Okay, here I go. I’m going. I’m ready. This is happening. I can do this.”

I swipe open my phone, and press record. “Three, two, one, go!”

Charly speed-walks past the first tree, and shrieks when she hears something rustling in the leaves above her. She continues, talking to herself the entire way to the cliff, muttering things like, “It’s fine. Everything’s fine,” and, “Giant pain in my ass.” The walk back to our campfire is even better because she flinches at every sound, and she looks like she’s being zapped with electricity.

I’m doubled over with laughter when she lowers herself beside me.

She smacks me in the arm and calls me a jerk. “I hope you enjoyed that.”

I can barely get the words out. “You have to save ... this video ... because it’s the funniest thing ... I’ve ever seen.”

The corner of her mouth wobbles, and soon she’s laughing with me. “I haven’t seen you laugh this hard since I arrived at the inn.”

I dab the corner of my eye. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed this hard.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m so glad I was able to do that for you. Okay, it’s my turn. Truth or dare, and you have to pick dare.”

“You can’t force me to pick dare. That’s not how the game goes, Tink. I pick truth.”

Her bottom lip juts out. “Fine. Tell me a secret you’re keeping.”

“How do you know I’m keeping a secret?”

She shrugs. “Everyone has secrets. Tell me one of yours, and make it juicy. You owe me after sending me out into the wilderness.”

“All right, let’s see.” I blink up at the sky, and rack my brain for a secret. I’ve told her everything about my accident, the fight at the bar, and my road to recovery. I don’t really have anything I’m keeping from anyone, let alone her.

Then it hits me.

There is one thing I’m keeping from her.

“Shit.” I scrape my fingertips along the back of my neck. “Okay, I have a secret for you. But you have to promise me you won’t get mad.”

Her back goes ramrod straight. “The secret involves me?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes.”

“How can I promise I won’t be mad when I don’t know what it entails?”

“I don’t know, but I really don’t want you to be mad for the remainder of this trip.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Just tell me, Bryce.”

I run my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots. “I read your journal a couple of weeks ago.”

Her mouth falls open. “You what?”

“It was the day we went canoeing, and you left it on the counter while you were showering.” I heave a sigh. “It was wrong. It was a total invasion of your privacy, and I know that. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

She stares at me, and the seconds tick by as she blinks.

“Charly, I—”

“Why did you do it?”

“I don’t know.”

Her lips press into a firm line. “Tell me the truth.”

I look up at the sky for answers. “Because I had told you about the fight I got into at the bar, how I ended up with my spinal injury, and I wanted to know what you thought of me—what you really thought of me after I told you.”

“What I really thought of you? As if I was lying, or faking my reaction?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

She’s quiet again, and her gaze drops to her lap.

“I’m sorry, Charly. I did it just that once, and I won’t do it again. I promise.”

She lifts her eyes to mine, and I can’t read the expression on her face. “Well, since we’re telling secrets, then I guess I should be honest with you as well.”

Unease seeps into my gut. “About what?”

“I invaded your privacy too.” She grimaces. “Far worse than you did mine.”

My mind races with possibilities. “What are you talking about?”

She pushes to her feet and paces around the fire. I follow, waiting in suspense for what feels like ten minutes.

“The other night, you were in the shower. I was walking to my bedroom, and then I heard something. I called your name through the door, but you couldn’t hear me over the fan.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt. I thought maybe you’d slipped and fell.”

“Okay ...”

“When I got inside the bathroom, you ... you were ... I saw you ...”

“It’s no big deal. We’re both grown adults.” I let out a relieved breath. “I’m sure you didn’t see anything you haven’t seen before.”

“There’s more.” Her chest rises with her inhale. “You were touching yourself.”

Oh.

I’m turned on by the thought of her watching me jerk off in the shower, but I push it aside because she looks so upset by this. “You didn’t know. It’s okay.”

She covers her face with her hands. “But I didn’t leave, Bryce. After I knew what you were doing, I didn’t leave.”

Oh.

I peel her hands away, needing to see her eyes. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“I guess ... because maybe ... I was turned on by it.”

Heat rushes down my spine.

She lifts her arm, and lets it fall, her hand smacking against her thigh. “So, I can’t be mad at you for reading my journal—which I really want to be mad at you for, by the way—because I watched you masturbate like some creepy peeping Tom, and it was wrong, and I told myself to leave, but I just couldn’t. I mean, I know I could’ve, but I didn’t want to, and I don’t know what came over me because—”

“Charly?”

She stops rambling. “Yeah?”

I step closer to her. “Truth or dare?”

Her nose wrinkles. “What?”

“Pick one.”

She swallows. “Truth.”

“What were you thinking when you saw me in the shower that night?”

“I ... I was thinking about how sexy you looked.” Her chest rises and falls with her rapid breaths. “The sounds you were making.”

I inch closer until her body is flush against mine. “Now ask me.”

“Truth or dare, Bryce?”

“Truth.” I tip her chin. “Ask me what I was thinking in the shower that night.”

Her hands slide up my arms, and grip onto my shoulders like she’s bracing herself for the answer. “What were you thinking about?”

My thumb skims over her bottom lip. “I was thinking about you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re just as beautiful inside as you are on the outside. Because I can’t get you out of my head. Because you’re so incredibly sexy. Because you make me feel alive again.”

She shivers, and brings her mouth closer to mine. “Will you kiss me now?”

“I’ve thought about nothing else since the moment I met you.” I dip my head, and press my lips against hers. My skin crackles like a live wire, every nerve ending in my body lighting up at once. I snake my hand around her waist, keeping her close to me, while the other cradles the back of her head. I kiss her slow and gentle as I tremble with trepidation, unsure of what we’re getting ourselves into by giving in to our desires, the lines we’re crossing that can’t be uncrossed.

Should we be doing this?

This summer will end in the blink of an eye.

And then what?

She leaves, and I go back to a life without sunshine.

But her silky lips on mine feel too good to stop, and I lose all semblance of logic and reality. I let go of the what-ifs and the questions, and I grip her harder, sliding my tongue over her mouth, longing to taste her. She lets out a soft moan as she opens for me and deepens our kiss. That sound spurs me on. Sparks fly around us as we rocket into space, letting our lips and hands guide the way, taking what we want and reveling in it. The earth around us fades away, until nothing is left but the two of us.

My tongue delves inside her mouth, again and again, and Charly matches my urgency, fisting her hands in my hair, holding me where she wants me. I walk her backward until her shoulders hit the tree, pressing myself against her. She gasps for air as I kiss down her neck, inhaling her sweet peachy scent that’s been killing me since the day she walked into my house.

Charly rolls her hips. “Bryce.”

My dick hardens even more at the sound of my breathy name whispered in my ear. I pull back to look into her eyes, into the raw hunger reflecting in them. Her lips are swollen, her neck red from my beard scraping against her delicate skin.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She grasps my face between both of her hands, her eyes bouncing between mine. “You’re beautiful too, Bryce. Your caring heart, your thoughtful mind.” She lets her hands slide down and roam over the contours of my arms holding her in place. “Your incredible body.”

I claim her mouth again, and our tongues tangle in sensual, languid strokes. As much passion as I’m pouring into her, she’s giving it right back, letting me feel the truth in her words.

If it weren’t for the twinges in my back sending a tingling sensation down my legs, I’d pick her up and hold her in my arms as we kiss under this tree all night. But I have to listen to my body.

I break the kiss once more. “Will you lie under the stars with me?”

Without questioning it, she takes my hand and leads me to the tent. I drag out the air mattress and set it by the fire. We crawl inside, facing one another, entwining our legs.

And we lose ourselves in a kiss for hours under the moonlit sky.