Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Summer traces circles on the back of my hand as we pull into the driveway.
I kill the engine, but neither of us moves.
I don’t know what comes next. I only know I can’t let go of her.
The two hours on the side of the highway—police lights flashing, tow truck hauling her Bronco away—all of it disappears. All that matters is her hand in mine and the fact that she’s here. That she’s safe.
“C’mon.” She opens her door, and I follow.
My heart hammers the entire way to the front door.
As soon as the door closes behind us, Summer drops her purse and turns to me. For a beat, we just stare at each other. Then, she’s moving.
I manage to set her guitar case down before her lips are on mine, her leg hooking around my hip. One of my hands fists in her hair, the other grips under her thigh, pulling her against me. She makes a small sound in the back of her throat that makes my dick pulse.
She rocks against me, and my head falls back. “Should we… Do you want to talk more? Figure out—”
“Later,” she breathes, urging me back down.
Her teeth graze my bottom lip, and I forget what we’re supposed to talk about.
“Are we actually doing this?” I manage between kisses.
“Yes.” Summer nips at my ear.
I tighten my hold, carrying her up the stairs. Her legs lock around my waist, and every kiss she presses to my neck, every scrape of teeth, drives me closer to insanity.
When I reach the top landing, she squirms, and I pin her against the hallway wall. I grip her jaw and bring her lips to mine, needing to taste her.
She grinds against me harder. “Miles,” she gasps.
“I know, honey.”
“Need you,” she mumbles; it comes out more moan than plea.
I head straight for my bed, laying her down in the center. She sinks into the white comforter, hair fanned out around her, lips swollen.
I’ve imagined this more times than I can count, but nothing compares to the real thing.
I drag a finger across the exposed skin at her waist where her shirt rode up. Her stomach muscles tense under my touch, and her hips move. I want to taste every inch of her.
“C’mere.” She reaches for me.
I shake my head and straighten, pulling off my quarter-zip, then my T-shirt.
“Take it all off,” I tell her.
Her lips part, and her gaze moves over my chest, arms, and finally to where my dick is tenting my pants. Then she’s following my command, slowly, like she’s putting on a show.
And what a fucking show.
Her shirt goes first, revealing a baby-blue lace bra I like just as much as the tangerine one.
My throat works around a swallow when she palms her breasts, squeezing, then slides her hands down until they reach her jeans. I track every movement. She pops the button but pauses there, watching me, waiting.
My eyes flick back to hers.
“You stopped,” she rasps. “Don’t stop.”
With fumbling fingers, I open my belt, then the button of my pants. I kick them off. When Summer wriggles out of her jeans and tosses them, my mouth goes dry.
I drink in the sight of her greedily. She’s left in only a sky-blue lace bra and a matching thong.
She hooks her thumbs under the string at her hips. “Should I take them off?”
I can’t speak, so I nod.
Her lips curve. Torturously slow, she slides the thong down her legs and kicks it aside.
Fuck. She’s perfect. To think I could live without ever seeing this sight again… insane.
I set my glasses on the nightstand, and the world blurs slightly at the edges. But Summer stays in focus. She’s the only thing I need to see clearly.
I crawl onto the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight.
She spreads her legs, and I slot between them. Her breath hitches before she chases my lips, making small, needy sounds in her throat.
When I pull back, her pupils are blown wide, and I’m certain mine match. I kiss the corner of her mouth, her jaw, the spot right below her ear that I know makes her crazy. She grinds against me, proving me right.
“I missed this.” I nip at the spot, hard enough to leave a mark.
I reach behind her back and pop the clasp of her bra. Her breasts spill free, and I toss the fabric toward the pile.
I kiss down her neck, across her collarbones, over the swell of her breasts. She whimpers, “Please.”
With her peaked nipple in my mouth, I suck hard. I’m rewarded with a moan, her body arching into me.
I could spend hours here. Mapping every curve. Learning what makes her gasp.
I lap and kiss and suck, switching between both breasts until her hips move restlessly and her fingers tangle in my hair.
“C’mere.” She’s already looking at me when I peer up, her nails teasing my scalp. “Please. C’mere.”
I make my way up to her lips. “What is it, honey?”
“I need you.” Her eyes are dark. “Need you to make me come.”
“Three times?” I tease.
She shakes her head. “Whatever you’ll give me.” The words come out so softly, I barely hear them over my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
They hang between us.
It sounds like she’s talking about more than an orgasm. And, fuck, if that doesn’t make my chest go tight. I kiss her again, meaning it to be filthy and hot. But it feels more like I’m telling her everything I can’t say out loud.
You can have it all.
I’m yours.
Don’t go.
All thought leaves me when her hand slides between us, gripping me over my boxer-briefs. I groan as she slips beneath the fabric and strokes me.
My hips jerk forward.
“That feels—” I start, but her fist twists over the head, and I lose my words. “Fuck, honey. So good.”
She releases me to push the fabric down. I help, kicking them off completely. Her hand is back on me immediately, stroking before she grips me and runs the head of my cock through her wetness.
Every muscle in my body tenses with the effort not to push into her. Not to connect us so deeply that we can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
I shake off the thought when she says my name, breathy and wanton.
“I need you,” she whines.
“I’ve got you.”
It’s the truth. Not just in this moment, in this bed—but in all things, for all time. Even when our time runs out, and this becomes nothing but a memory. Or maybe, impossibly, if we…
I can’t finish the thought.
So I don’t. I kiss her instead, hoping her sweet mouth will chase away everything else. When I ease back, it’s only far enough to speak against her lips, “Let me taste you.”
“Not now.” She’s breathless. “Make—fuck me, baby.”
The endearment slips off her tongue and weaves into me in a way I know I’ll never dig out.
“Okay.” I grab a condom from my nightstand. My hands shake as I tear it open.
For once, I’m glad I keep them there, despite never having a woman in my bed. Like some part of me knew she was coming.
Summer watches, eyes glazed with lust, as I roll it on. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and the thought of how it feels on me has me nearly losing all control.
I settle between her thighs, and her legs hook behind my back, pulling me closer. I cover her body with mine, bracing on my elbows but keeping her close. Arms hooked under her shoulders, anchoring her to me.
She traces the seam of my mouth, and when our tongues connect, it’s all heat and need and something more I can’t name. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of this. Of her.
I push into her slowly. Inch by inch. She’s so tight, so warm, so perfect that everything gets swallowed whole—my breath, my thoughts, the hollow ache that’s lived in my chest for years.
Then it’s all filled with her.
I thrust into her, working my hips in a slow rhythm.
“Miles.” My name sounds like a plea and a warning.
Then her mouth falls open on a silent cry. She clenches around me so tight, I have to grit my teeth, fighting not to follow her.
“You’re good for my ego, Starling.” I kiss her pouty lips.
“That’s never happened before,” she defends.
Jealousy twists in my gut at the thought of her with someone else. I shove it down. “Mm-hmm. You got another one for me?”
She explores my chest, hands running up my sides and over my pecs. When her thumbs ghost over my nipples, I thrust deeper.
“Just for you.” She smiles, and I bury myself in her. Her breath leaves her when I drive harder, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I may have teased her, but it’s taking everything in me not to come.
“Are you close?” I shift my weight, reaching between us to circle her clit. Then lower, needing to feel where we’re joined.
For the first time ever, I curse wearing a condom. I don’t want anything between us.
“Yes,” she pants. “Do that again, please.”
“So proper,” I murmur against her mouth and give her what she wants, thrusting into her while I work her clit.
It doesn’t take long. I feel the way she tightens, the way her breathing changes. When she comes again, pulsing around me, it pulls me over the edge with her.
I bury my face in her neck and let go.
We both lie there, spent. “That was…”
“Yeah.”
I ease out of her, carefully, and deal with the condom, tossing it in the trash beside my bed. I’m back next to her before she can even think about moving. She tucks herself against my side, her leg hooking over mine, as if made to fit there.
Maybe she was.
I can’t remember the last time I felt anything close to this.
When I find the answer in my memories, I shake it away.
She’s quiet for a long time. Her fingers trace idle patterns on my chest. Circles, figure eights, maybe a heart?
“What happened?” Her voice is soft. “That night.”
I knew this was coming. Knew we’d have to talk about it eventually.
“It’s… I was scared.”
I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. She doesn’t rush me.
“I was with someone,” I say finally. “Years ago. Before I moved to Chicago.”
I’ve never told anyone about Vanessa. The only people who know about her are the ones who were there then.
Fox and Volk are the only guys still on the team who’d met her.
And, of course, Tara still grumbles about what a “pill” she was.
But that’s what people who love you do—take your side, even when you’re the one in the wrong.
“I asked her to give up a lot. To move here with me.” I pull Summer closer.
“And she wouldn’t?” Her fingers continue the lazy patterns.
“No. She did—” I inhale through my nose. “That was the problem.”
I should’ve never asked her. We could’ve made it work long distance, at least until we figured out a solution that let us both chase our goals.
Summer stills. “I don’t get it… so what happened?”
I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. “She regretted it. Resented me for it.”
There are parts of this I’ve never told anyone. I’m not sure I’m ready to tell her all of it tonight, but she deserves as much as I can give her.
“I didn’t even realize what I was doing at the time. I thought I was being supportive, but I wasn’t,” I add.
I’ll never forget her face, twisted with anger, the night she left to go back to Edmonton.
She looked at me like I was a monster who ruined her life.
It was our worst fight ever… although is it a fight if it’s one-sided?
I was blindsided by everything she told me she was feeling.
But I shouldn’t have been. I should’ve seen the problem before it was smacking me in the face.
“Hey.” Summer pushes onto her elbow to look at me. “It wasn’t all on you.”
She’s wrong. That’s just what people say when they don’t want you to carry the burden of guilt. But I’m used to its weight. I’ve mostly made peace with it, but it doesn’t change what happened.
“It was.” I shake my head, talking before she can break the silence with comfort I don’t deserve.
“That night, seeing you at my game, with my friends… it made me realize just how much I wanted you there. Christ, how much I was starting to need you. I’ve become more and more attached to you, Starling. ”
I stop. Swallow. “All I could think that night was how badly this is going to hurt when you leave. I thought I could stop it, pull back, protect us both.”
I run my fingers through her bed-tangled hair. “But I was wrong. That fucking hurt.”
“It hurt me, too,” she whispers.
“I know.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry. Even when I think I’m doing the right thing, I—”
I take a breath, but it doesn’t settle the rapid drum behind my ribs. The weight of it all crashes down on me—how I messed up with my ex, what I did to Summer, all the ways I could hurt her in the future. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Fuck.”
Summer’s moving, straddling my hips when I open them again. “Stop.” Her hands hold the sides of my face, her grip firm. “Stop beating yourself up.”
I reach up and cup her jaw. “I watched you tonight on stage, and I knew.”
Christ, she was perfect. So in her element. So fucking talented. So everything.
“Knew what?”
That I couldn’t hold you back. Couldn’t keep you. As much as I want to.
“That you are going to be something big. That you’re something special. And the world deserves to have it, to appreciate your talent, your light.”
“Miles—”
“In four months, you’re leaving—”
“We don’t know that. Look at what happened tonight—we can’t even know what’s going to happen five minutes from now.”
“I know it.” I brush my thumbs along her cheeks. “When your music takes off, you’re going to leave.”
My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “You’re going to leave, and I won’t hold you back. I won’t be the reason you make yourself smaller. I won’t ask you to stay.”
I know how it goes if I do. I’ve lived through it.
I barely survived it. When the wanting became a weight, and staying was a sacrifice, and leaving was the only relief.
I’d rather this end cleanly. I’d rather she leave with all of it intact—us, what we had, without ever looking at me the way Vanessa did at the end.
Summer shakes her head. And again. Her eyes shine, filling with tears she doesn’t let fall, but they never leave mine. “I can’t stay,” she whispers.
“I know, baby.” I kiss her palm. “I know.”
“But we don’t have to stamp this with an end date—”
I press my thumb to her lips. “It’s better not to make promises we can’t keep,” I hear myself say, and I hate it.
“Who says we can’t keep them?” Her voice rises. “You don’t know that, Miles.”
But I do. I remember all the broken promises I exchanged with my ex. Every single one of them.
She sits back slightly, still straddling me, but putting space between us.
It’s better to leave things on good terms. I won’t risk the past repeating itself. I couldn’t stand to have Summer look at me with anger and resentment in her eyes.
“Just until you leave,” I murmur with great effort.
The lie tastes like ash.
Because I already know—it won’t be “just until” for me. It’ll be long after. Maybe forever.
But I don’t tell her that. I can’t.
“Say it,” I rasp.
Her hand comes to rest over my heart. I wonder if she can feel how fast it’s racing.
“Just until I leave,” she echoes.
She leans down and kisses me.
And I kiss her back, holding her like I can somehow stop June from coming if I don’t let go of her.