Chapter 17

seventeen

FALLING STARS

“ H ow the hell did this come about?” I ask as soon as everyone is settled, needing an answer to the question.

Of all the people I thought would have the answer, it wasn’t Torryn, but it’s her who answers. “I met Daddy T at the game.”

Okay maybe not.

“That’s not an answer,” Zac points out while Tate rubs his temples and their dad shakes his head.

“I told you not to call me that, Torryn,” he sighs, but I can see Wilder considering it. It won’t be the last time we hear that name.

She shrugs but Isla steps in before she can say anything inappropriate. “We were talking at the game and your dad invited us to surprise you.”

Torryn points to me. “It’s your own fault. You made me sound interesting.”

Emery’s dad nods his agreement and I know that conversation from Thanksgiving prompted this little surprise. “You have been entertaining,” he admits, making Tate cover his face with his hand.

Emery and I exchange looks. “How did I miss this conversation?” Their dad only sat with us for a little bit before people were coming out of the woodworks to get his opinions on all things hockey related.

“You were busy—” Torryn starts but cuts off with a grunt when Isla elbows her in the gut. “In the bathroom,” she finishes, glaring at her best friend and mouthing, “What the fuck?” to her. Isla shrugs and it’s clear she didn’t trust Torryn to not say something she shouldn’t have.

Beau throws his arm around Tate’s shoulders. “The girls told us and how could we say no? We knew how much our captain would be missing us.”

Tate snorts, shoving him away from him. “Don’t you have your own families to bother?”

“We bothered them yesterday,” Baylor answers genuinely, making Tate’s dad cover his face as he laughs.

Winter vacations are never boring, but I have a feeling this one will be even more unforgettable than ever.

“I would have brought your presents if I’d known,” Emery says, and I look at her in shock.

“Did you make one for everyone?” When did she even have the time?

She gets flustered, looking at her feet. “Not everyone individually,” she defends. “But I made one for the house.”

“Oh,” Isla croons, “tell me more.”

Wells tsks at his girlfriend, pulling her into his side. “You have to wait until she gives it to us.”

“Boring,” she whines and I look around the room and how the spacious living room already feels much smaller.

“So where are you guys staying?” Wilder asks, obviously thinking the same thing I am. There’s one extra bedroom in the house but that’s not enough space for five people.

Tate’s dad clears his throat. “I rented out the house next door for them. We got lucky it was available.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” Emery says, hugging him around his waist and going up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

“Aww,” Torryn says, “she calls him Daddy.” At Wells’ and Isla’s matching exasperated looks she continues. “What? It’s cute. I don’t have a daddy, kinda makes me want one. ”

I blink slowly, as if that will somehow make her words make sense. It doesn’t. “I have no words for you,” I finally say, pointing at her and making her smirk. No one else can even say that much.

“Thank god you’re staying in a separate house,” Wilder declares, making Colby smack him.

James claps his hands together. “We’re not exactly crying ourselves to sleep about it,” he retorts and Baylor gives him a fist bump, even though his comment was directed at only Tor. “But what are the plans for today?”

We all look at Mr. Moore simultaneously, but he puts his hands up. “I brought them here. I did my part.”

Emery rolls her eyes. “We can go into town,” she offers. “Or have a beach day.”

“We never made those smores last night.” Tate points out. We ended up having Emery’s cake instead. “Bonfire and smores tonight?”

“Sold,” Beau agrees.

“Most of the stores will be closed today,” Emery notes. I almost forgot it was Christmas. “Maybe a beach day here? Do any of you guys surf? We have a couple extra boards.”

Fire crackles and Tate brings out several blankets and hands them to the girls to wrap around themselves.

“What about me?” Beau whines, and Tate scoffs, ignoring him as he sits next to me.

Point for me.

I haven’t forgotten about Beau trying to poach my best friend from me. “You’re a big boy,” I taunt. “You can figure it out for yourself.”

He stares at me over the bottle of tequila Torryn brought, his eyes narrowed. When he swallows, he points at me with the bottle. “For that, you’re first.”

I look around the fire at everyone else, but no one seems to know what he’s talking about. “First for what?”

He looks way too proud of himself as he sits up straighter. “Truth or dare?”

There’s a cacophony of groans, curses, and scoffs as Tate rubs his temple. “We are not playing truth or dare,” he says definitively.

Beau pouts as Isla takes the bottle from his hand, pouring some into her plastic cup before passing it off to Torryn. “What? Why not?” Beau complains.

Tate gives him a stern look but James laughs in Beau’s face. “Because we aren’t horny middle schoolers looking for an excuse to kiss each other.”

Beau still wants to protest, but he knows if he does everyone will never let go of the comparison. It will be fuel for years of teasing every time one of us can find a way to use it. “Fine. Would you rather skinny dip in the ocean or let me go through your phone?”

The water isn’t freezing, but it sure as hell isn’t a warm bath either. My phone doesn’t hold any embarrassing shit about me. Why he would want to go through it is another question altogether. “Go through my phone, you freak. ”

His responding smirk makes me feel like I’ve made a crucial error, but I can’t figure out why.

“Great, then hand it over.” Torryn and Isla exchange glances and there’s something in that look I know I should be worried about, but I can’t focus on that yet. No one else seems surprised by his demand, but that’s not how the game works.

“What the hell?” I stammer. “Since when do you have to do the option you pick in would you rather?”

Beau reaches his hand out, waiting for me to hand it over. “Since now.”

Torryn meets my eyes and arches a brow, a challenge in that look but I still can’t figure out why. Since no one else is protesting, I cave with a groan, tossing him my phone. “You have sixty seconds.”

“That’s all I need,” he says, catching it and I shake my head. I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to find, but he’s going to be sorely disappointed when he realizes I’ve got nothing interesting on there.

The bottle of tequila makes its way to me, but I hand it off, not taking any. Being sober around Emery is already proving to be challenge enough. The last thing either one of us needs is lowered inhibitions.

Beau chuckles, and it sounds almost sinister. “Let’s see who you’re talking to. Oh ho ho,” he murmurs, sounding like a cartoon villain. “Who is brat?”

A flicker of panic swells in my gut, but I tamp it down when he reads the first text aloud. “Tell Tate to answer his phone.” Confusion fills his face as he gives me a questioning look.

There’s nothing in our recent texts that gives away anything more than what everyone already knows. We’ve been together for most of the last few days.

Emery snorts, “It’s me. ”

“Boring,” Beau complains. “Why do you have her as brat? I thought it was going to be something juicy.”

I shrug. “Because she’s a brat.”

Wilder laughs. “I have her as little demon in my phone.”

Emery sticks her tongue out at both of us. “You both suck.”

Torryn flips us both off. “That’s what she meant, assholes.” Then pats Emery’s knee. “Don’t let them bully you.”

Isla giggles and grabs my phone back out of Beau’s hands, tossing it back to me. “And that was time. Xander, your turn.”

Oh fuck. I always hate coming up with these stupid things.

“Tate,” I start, choosing him because I’ll never miss an opportunity to fuck with my best friend. “Would you rather sleep outside all night or take three shots right now?”

He glares at me and I put my hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “There’s no hockey to worry about.” It’s been awhile since I’ve seen Tate drunk, and I don’t think any of his teammates have ever seen him.

He flips me off before motioning for Wells to pass him the tequila. Emery’s eyes widen and all the guys cheer. Torryn grabs it from Wells and Isla is already handing her a cup. She eyeballs the pour, counting to three aloud and hands it to Tate who takes it with a skeptical look.

“How do you know this is three shots?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a bartender.” As if that’s answer enough. Maybe it is.

Emery scrunches her nose, watching her brother and I bet she’s having some intense flashbacks right now. She reaches in front of me and hands her brother her lemonade and he takes it gratefully. Puss.

He takes it in two swallows and finishes off Emery’s lemonade. “God, you’re such a prick,” he swears, wiping his mouth when he’s done, but everyone else cheers with me. He looks around the circle before landing on Zac. “Zac, would you rather trade tops with Colby or be buried in sand?”

Zac looks carefully at where Colby is sitting, still in her bikini top and a long skirt. He strips off his sweatshirt and tosses it to her before making a give me gesture with his hand. “Come on, Colbs. I know I’m about to look even better than you do in that top.”

She blushes, but pulls on the sweatshirt before reaching under it to untie her top and throws it at where Zac is waiting for it. Emery giggles as she helps Zac tie the bikini top at his back and behind his neck.

Everyone cracks up and Tate smirks but Zac waves us all off, winking at Colby. “I know I’ll be in all your dreams tonight.” He adds a little shimmy to emphasize his point and Emery puts her face in her hands.

Around the circle we go. The dares get more and more outlandish as everyone drinks more. Torryn and Isla end up doing a Tiktok dance I had never seen before and lets Beau film them to post on his account. Wilder takes a swim in the ocean and immediately regrets it when he comes back soaking wet and cold. And then it’s Baylor’s turn.

He looks around, trying to figure out who else hasn’t gone yet and lands on Emery. “Emery,” he drawls her name slowly, his eyes flicking around us as he tries to think of dares for her. “Would you rather kiss Wilder,” he starts and my blood runs cold at the idea of her lips near any of the pricks in this circle. Even the girls. My eyes fall on Torryn. Maybe especially the girls. “Or Xander?” he finishes, as he looks at all three of us.

“Oh, good one,” Beau agrees. But he’s wrong. Bad one. A very bad one, in fact.

Emery’s face heats and I can see her panic in the way she tenses.

“Absolutely not,” Tate declares, sitting up straighter from where he was starting to lean into me. Thank god for his overprotective nature. “A. I don’t want to know the answer to that. B. She’s not kissing either of these assholes.”

Okay, ouch. That stings a little bit. I try to catch Emery’s eye, but her eyes are firmly locked on her hands in her lap.

Right.

I laugh it off. “Try again, Baylor.”

He groans. “It’s so hard to come up with them though,” he complains and I have to agree with him. Especially the more we play and the less options there are. “Fine then, Beau. Who would you rather kiss, Xander or Wilder?”

I snort. “Couldn’t come up with a new dare, so gave it to someone else?”

“Exactly,” he agrees, with a satisfied smile. “Genius, right?”

Beau rubs his chin, looking back and forth between me and Wilder, taking this far more serious than I ever thought he would. “Xander looks like he bites,” he contemplates.

“I do,” I agree, making Emery giggle at my side. Tate leans his head against my shoulder and mutters something that I miss, but I ignore him. He’s always been a cuddler when he’s drunk.

Beau continues as if I hadn’t said anything. “But we all know Wilder’s a bit of a whore.”

“Hey,” Wilder protests, but Beau only shrugs.

“You’re trying to give Baylor a run for his money as the campus hockey hoe now that he’s all settled down and shit.” He purses his lips looking back at Baylor. “Can I pick Tate instead? He won’t bite me or make me feel used.”

Wilder looks flabbergasted and it’s impossible not to laugh. “What the fuck, Beau? I wouldn’t make you feel used. I don’t make anyone feel used.”

Beau nods and hums his agreement, but it only comes across as condescending and everyone laughs as Wilder gets more flustered.

“Sure,” Baylor agrees, shrugging.

Tate pops his head off my shoulder. “What?” he asks, as Beau walks up to him and grabs his cheeks with both hands before smacking a loud kiss against his lips. He pulls away and Tate sputters, obviously having missed the whole conversation. His face turns red as he looks up at Beau smiling down at him.

“Well, thank god you didn’t kiss me, cause you’re a shitty kisser,” Wilder taunts and Beau’s hand flies to his chest in offense. He reaches down and pulls Tate to his feet, who might still be stunned and a bit confused because he doesn’t protest.

Beau’s hands fall to Tate’s hips as he pushes into him and kisses him again. This time it’s a whole lot more than just a peck. He holds Tate against his body, pressing their lips together and that’s definitely tongue I see.

“That’s kind of hot,” Torryn faux whispers and Baylor snorts.

“You get off on watching other people.”

Didn’t need to know that about her.

Beau finally releases Tate and spins on his heel, pointing at Wilder. “Ha! See I am a good kisser.”

Wilder looks torn between shocked and amused and I think we all relate currently. “You sure showed me,” he finally says, chuckling.

Tate wipes his hand over his face. “I think that’s enough for me for one night.” His words aren’t slurred at all, but something about his words seem dazed. He shakes his head. “Goodnight, y’all.”

A chorus of boos follows his announcement but he waves us off, stopping only to kiss Emery on the top of her head. “No kissing idiots,” he warns, a threatening glare in everyone else’s direction.

Wells and Isla share a look as Tate walks away and also decide to call it a night, but everyone else stays and Beau takes his turn, which ends with Wilder agreeing for the girls to do his hair tomorrow before we go out to lunch.

The game slows when James also calls it a night and Colby curls up into Wilder’s side and he tucks the blanket around her. We stop playing and start talking as Emery brings out all the stuff for s’mores. I forgot we even talked about doing them tonight.

Tate is going to be pissed he missed them.

Emery makes one for herself and one for Colby, who thanks her around a yawn, but insists she’s fine when Zac asks if she’s ready to go back inside. While we eat, Baylor tells us what it was like traveling with the cats and it sounds like hell on earth.

Torryn smacks him. “Potato was an angel,” she argues. “Karma on the other hand.” Her smirk tells me everything I need to know about how that little demon acted. She’s lucky she’s cute.

“Root Veggie slept the whole flight,” Baylor counters, and Torryn nods as if he proved her point for her. Which he kind of did.

Beau yawns and stretches his arms above his head. “As entertaining as this conversation is, now that no one is kissing, I think I’m out.”

He’s such an idiot. “Don’t lie, it’s cause the tequila is gone.”

“Also that,” he confirms. He stops mid-stride to turn around and he stares at Colby. “I’m also fairly positive she’s asleep.” He points out before continuing to their house.

Wilder immediately leans forward to check on Colby, but as soon as he shifts, I can see her face and she's absolutely knocked out. Emery and I trade looks and she laughs .

“I guess she was ready to sleep even if she wasn’t ready to go in,” Zac says wryly, helping Wilder to get up and pick her up off the ground. Colby doesn’t stir even once during the whole process. As they disappear back towards our house, Baylor and Torryn have a silent conversation with a few looks.

“You guys got the fire?” Baylor asks. “Or do you need help?”

Emery looks up from where she is putting another marshmallow on her stick, a guilty expression on her face as she realizes we’re all staring at her now.

I wave the two of them off. “I’ve got the fire and our marshmallow brat.”

“I’m sure you do.” Torryn smirks and Baylor gives her a confused look but she grabs his hand and begins to drag him away from the fire, sending me a little finger wave over her shoulder.

Asshole.

“I don’t have to have another one,” Emery offers, looking around to realize it’s only the two of us left.

Instead of answering her, I grab my own stick and pop two marshmallows on it before sticking it into the fire. She grins as she stops hesitating and feeling bad, putting hers back in the fire. We sit silently next to each, both watching the fire.

I let mine catch fire, burning quickly as I take it out and blow it out. Emery watches as horrified this time as anytime she’s seen me do it.

“Heathen,” she whisper-shouts, but it’s a fight we’ve had before and will never agree on. I don’t have the patience to slowly roast my marshmallow over the flames until it’s a light golden brown the way she does. Straight into the fire, baby. Some burnt edges never hurt nobody.

“Who has a s’more and who does not?”

She turns her stick over, even toasting it like it’s a damn science. “Perfection takes time. ”

“Is that why you were born third?”

Her mouth drops open, but she struggles not to smile. “Are you flirting with me again, Alexander Channing?”

I shouldn’t be.

Tate was very clear how he would feel if I was kissing his sister and doing anything to betray him… it seems unfathomable. But here I am. Unable to resist the pull I feel to Emery Moore. When I called her my sun, it wasn’t only because of how brilliantly she shines. It is also because no matter how hard I try to avoid it, it’s impossible to resist the way she draws me into her orbit.

Nothing has felt more natural than making this girl the center of my whole universe.

“I think your marshmallow is ready,” I tease, avoiding answering the question.

She hums, pulling it out of the fire and making her s’mores. “I know what you’re doing.”

Oh, baby girl. I don’t know what I’m doing. I lost my mind months ago, and my sanity was quick to follow. “If you know, please share. Cause I’ve never felt more lost,” I admit to her.

Emery looks at me sadly and I hate that I put that melancholy look on her face. She glances back at the house where her brothers and dad are. I wonder if she’s also thinking about Tate’s words before he left?

No kissing idiots.

We don’t say anything else, but she watches me as I finish eating. Her head rests against her knees, the fire lighting her face up in a golden glow and there’s just a little chocolate at the corner of her lips when she finishes.

I want to brush it away with my thumb, but I can’t trust myself to be any closer to this girl.

“Do you want to go to bed?” she asks, but makes no move to douse the fire.

“No,” I answer honestly.

“What do you want to do?” She keeps her head resting on her knees, her arms wrapped around her legs.

I don’t know what I want to do, but I do know I’m not ready to say goodnight to her yet. “Look at the stars,” I say. Because I have a lot of wishes I could make if only I could catch a falling star.

She grins, lifting her head up as she looks around us. I’m confused at first until she grabs one of the blankets Zac left behind. She shakes the sand off it and spreads it out next to the fire before motioning for me to join her on it.

We lay side by side on our backs, her shoulder brushes against mine as we look up at the night sky, full of twinkling stars.

“It’s beautiful,” she sighs and like in every cliche romance movie that has ever been made, I’m staring at her awestruck expression when I agree.

She smacks my shoulder, her face heating. “You’re not even looking.”

I can’t deny it, but I will anyway. I look up at the sky above us, the stars so different from what we have back home. “Yes, I am.” I point to the sky where a small cluster of stars shine even brighter than those around it. “See, there’s Crux, right there.” I point out each of the four stars that make up the constellation.

“Nice save,” she snorts.

I hum my agreement, satisfied it worked. Her head leans against my shoulder, and I inch a little closer to her. An inch never hurt anyone, right?

“It’s weird to think we’ll be at the same school next year,” she muses.

I huff half a laugh. “I don’t know if I should look forward to it or not.” It’s only half a tease this time. It’s hard enough when we see each other only a couple times a week, let alone having her around all the time. Excitement and nerves battle in what feels like a familiar dance at this point. Forever a dichotomy of emotions roiling through me when it comes to her.

She tries to kick me, but I catch her thigh and rest it over my legs, pulling her body closer to mine. In the dark I can lie to myself and say nothing matters outside of the two of us. Her body tenses, but she relaxes after a second and I keep my hand over her thigh, tracing patterns into her skin.

“You’re a jerk,” she huffs.

She’s not wrong and yet here we are.

“Don’t be a brat. You know I’m looking forward to it.” I click my tongue. “Bold choice though. You know your brothers will only get worse having you back under their wings.”

She looks at me with a mischievous grin. “Not if I ask Torryn to beat them up for me.”

“Ah,” I chuckle. “That’s your plan, is it?” At her smug nod I squeeze her thigh. “I guess photography isn’t the only genius in you.”

She snorts, but even in the dim light I can see her embarrassment. “You caught me. I’m majoring in photography and thwarting my brothers.”

“A minor in revenge?”

Her body shakes with her giggles and I feel it everywhere. “Nah, I already got my degree in that years ago.”

Of course she did. The fire is slowly dying and the chill of the night becomes harsher all around us. I grab the blanket that fell to the side and pull it around her as she tells me about her revenge plans for Zac and Wilder. They’re creative to say the least.

“I’ve been wondering when you were going to make your move.”

“That’s the first thing they teach you in revenge school, Xander. Timing is everything.”

We spend hours talking and we circle back to her coming to Westbrook next year and I get to ask her all the questions about her photography I’ve been holding in. Like when she knew it was what she wanted to do with her life and if she still has the old disposable cameras she used to carry around.

She gets lost in her passion for what she does and I discover my new favorite expressions of hers as she tells me everything she loves about being behind a camera lens.

“Sorry,” she cuts herself off when she notices my smile. “This is probably boring to you.”

I’m already shaking my head before she finishes her sentence. “I asked because I want to know everything about you, Emery. I could hear you talk about this all night.”

She sits up, laughing off my words and pulling away from me, but I’m quick to move with her.

“I’m serious, Em. I’ve been wondering when photography went from something fun for you to what you wanted to do with your life ever since Thanksgiving. Seeing your photos makes me want to hear everything you’re thinking when you hit that shutter button. You could never bore me. Not talking about something you love, or telling me about your day, or listing off your groceries for me. I’ll listen to you talk all day and night.”

She scoffs and buries her face in her knees. “You’re being ridiculous now.”

I grab a piece of her long hair and twirl it between my fingers. “No, I’m not, brat. Now tell me why action shots and athletes are your interest. It seems like you love capturing candids and emotions of everyday life. And you’re damn good at it.”

She eyes me skeptically and I have to wonder what made her so insecure to talk about herself and what she loves so much. I pull her back into my side, but we stay sitting up, a blanket draped around us and she leans into my side.

Sighing, she starts talking again, but it only takes a few moments before she’s once again caught up in her passion. No trace of her insecurity and self doubt left. And pride swells in my chest that I can be that for her.

“That’s exactly why. It’s capturing that flickering moment of pure emotion, raw passion that flashes across our faces so brief, if you blink you may miss it that makes my heart race. There are a lot of moments in life worth trying to hold on to forever. Where the most intense emotions are drawn out of us.”

Her words make me think of the photo she took of me at the hockey game. The way I could read my desperation for her and guilt for feeling that way made my stomach twist in an unfamiliar way.

“But in the middle of the game,” her voice takes on an enchanted lilt. “Athletes are consumed by their desires to fight, to defend, to attack, to win. It’s a level of passion that isn’t seen in everyday life. Growing up around you guys, I know how much work goes into your game. How hard you guys practice, how much of your mind is occupied by hockey. Not everyone has something they love so fiercely they’re willing to put their bodies on the line for it. And it all comes out on the ice. The blood, sweat, and tears you guys put into the game comes pouring out of you in every play and being able to hold on to that feeling feels really special.”

Emery has never been an athlete, never cared to participate in any of the activities her parents tried to get her involved in. She was always more happy following us around with her little camera in tow. And yet, she understands the feelings that fill me every time I get on the ice more than maybe even some of my teammates. She understands it in a way I barely can even comprehend.

“That’s what photography is for you,” I say, a note of awe in my tone. Because damn. This girl is everything I could have ever thought to ask for and everything I would have never known I needed.

She blushes and fuck, that’ll never get old. “I don’t have to put my body on the line,” she disagrees.

“But I bet you would if you had to.” I can’t help but grin as I watch her get more flustered. “Fuck me, Emery. Everything I learn about you makes you that much more amazing.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You sure do like that word a lot tonight, don’t you?” I tease. Apparently that’s all she can say, but I don’t mind making her speechless. In fact, I can think of a lot of ways I’d like to make her speechless.

She draws in the sand at her feet, avoiding my gaze, but that’s okay.

Emery clears her throat. “Should we, umm.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Should we go inside? It’s getting late.”

I hum like I’m thinking about it. “No, I haven’t seen a shooting star yet.”

She gives me an exasperated look, one brow raised. “Is that what we’ve been doing out here?”

“Stargazing with my favorite brat. What better way to spend Christmas?”

She tilts her head back, looking at the stars, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the way her expression relaxes and the corners of her lips turn up when I wrap my arm around her waist.

“It’s not Christmas anymore,” she points out. “But the stars are beautiful, so I guess we can look for shooting stars together. ”

“How magnanimous of you,” I say wryly. “I appreciate it. I’ve got some wishes I need to make.”

I want to pull her back into my side, but I can’t see her face if she’s leaning against me, so I settle for feeling her. I rub my thumb against the exposed skin of her hip bone and she leans into the touch.

“Something Santa didn’t bring you?”

I snort. “How did you know?”

Her eyes scan the sky, looking for a shooting star. “Just a feeling. But you better start looking or I’m going to keep all the wishes for myself.”

“So much for being magnanimous,” I joke, and her shoulders shake even as she tries to suppress her laugh.

“Oh,” I exclaim, pointing just out of her line of sight. “Look, there’s one.”

She scoffs in disbelief. “No way, where?”

I keep pointing and she turns her head, her eyes tracking my finger.

“Right there. Do you see it?”

Her eyes scan the sky and she turns to me pouting. “Are you being for real?”

This right here is the problem with a girl who knows you inside and out. I keep a straight face and nod. “Of course. I was the one who brought them up in the first place.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” she sighs. She cocks her head at me. “You better hurry or your wish won’t come true.”

I close my eyes dutifully, pretending to make my wish. Before I can even open them, Emery is poking me in the stomach. “Are you gonna tell me what you wished for?”

Her wide blue eyes dance across my face and it takes everything in me not to bop her nose. “I can’t tell you or it might not come true, and I really want this one to come true.”

Our gazes hold and I swear I think we’re both holding our breath. Our noses only inches apart as she studies my expression. I never needed a shooting star or even a wish to come true, I just needed this girl to keep looking at me the way she is right now.

“Ask me again.”

“Ask you what?” Her voice is breathy and I know she knows exactly what I mean.

“Ask me what you asked me in the kitchen that morning so I can answer the way I wanted to.” I’m laying all my cards on the table. Breaking every rule and ignoring all the caution signs.

She swallows thickly, desire and fear growing in equal measures. Her voice is barely above a whisper but she never looks away from me. “Did you want to?”

“Yeah, baby girl. I did.”

My hands cup her cheeks and they feel softer than anything I’ve felt in my life as I pull her to me. As if in slow motion, I try to record every millisecond of this because I know this will be one of those rare, life-altering moments that shakes the very core of who I am. Her lips part open for me before I even press mine against them and when they do finally meet, we’re both smiling.

Our lips brush. Once, twice. And it’s not enough.

I press our lips together more firmly and she leans into me. My arms wrap around her waist and her hands land on my shoulders and our chests collide. Her heart races nearly as fast as mine and my tongue slips out to trace the seam of her lips. She opens for me and I kiss her deeper than I’ve ever kissed anyone before.

And like her, her kiss is sweet with just a little kick. She nips my lip as she takes control and kisses me with everything she’s been holding back.

When we finally break apart, she’s sitting in my lap, her hair disheveled and we’re both panting, sharing a smile. “Fuck, Em. You’re going to be the death of me.”

I trace my fingers down her cheek and she leans into the touch. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

My thumb brushes over her swollen lips and I lean in to kiss her again. “It would be the sweetest way to go,” I admit, a hair’s breadth away from her lips. A moan breaks past my lips when she tugs on the hair at the root of my nape and I growl at her. “You feel damn good in my arms.”

She looks up at me through her eyelashes, worry and insecurity making her chew on her lower lip. “Are you going to ignore me tomorrow?”

Shame and regret makes my entire body go cold. I have no one to blame but myself for being so fickle when it comes to her. I’ve done nothing but confuse the both of us with the way I’ve shown her my desire only to turn cold the next day. Instinctually, I pull her closer to me.

“I’ll never stop regretting that I hurt you,” I tell her. “And I won’t ever make that mistake again.”

“And what about Tate?” she whispers, her fingers threading through my hair and I hate that I don’t have an answer for her.

“I don’t know, Em,” I whisper back, slipping my hands under her shirt to feel the warmth of her skin. “But I know I’ll never forget this moment and I don’t want to have to act like it never happened.”

She shifts in my lap and that one small movement nearly sends me over the edge and I groan, making her smile. This brat. I know she can feel how hard I am for her. How my dick is straining in its effort to break free from my shorts and reach her. I grip her hips, holding her still.

“Don’t do that,” I warn, but it’s honestly more of a beg.

Emery reminds me exactly why I call her a brat with her mischievous little smirk as she shifts again, rocking her hips forward in a way that makes me curse.

“Or what?”

I flip her under me in one quick move she never sees coming and she squeals as her head hits the sand. I keep my hold on her hip with one hand and use the other to trace her cheek, down her neck, and rest it against her collar bone, loving the way I can see her pulse race.

“You’re asking for trouble,” I warn, but fuck if my heart isn’t racing too.

“I’m actually asking you to kiss me again.”