Chapter 56

I can see the entire world from my bedroom window, or at least the world as I've always known it.

But I've never shown Harlow the view from the roof before.

Not until tonight.

My world used to be so small, made up of myself, my thoughts, and my never-ending search for memories held within the house I'd always watch.

My world is bigger now, my life greater, and my dreams of the future as vast as the skies above me.

And I know I owe it all to the girl in my arms, the one whose cries have slowly quieted as she watches her entire world fall apart from the outside.

Her mom's still at the house, waiting by the porch while her dad goes in and out, always returning with shit to throw into her car. She screams at him every time he appears, and he returns her screams, only twice as loud.

Still, we're too far to hear what they're saying, but I'm sure we can guess.

"So this is where you were when you saw them—my mom and uncle?" Harlow asks, and it's the first time she's spoken since we got in my van to drive over here.

"Yeah."

She adjusts, sitting up slightly. "You can see right into my bedroom from here."

"It's better with my binoculars, but yes."

She turns in my arms, her red, raw, tear-stained eyes narrowing slightly. "I can't tell if you're messing with me."

I shrug, and we go back to watching her parents. Her mom's in her car now, making her way down the driveway, and her dad watches her leave, his hands on his hips. As soon as the car's far enough away, he heads into the house, only to reappear in the backyard. He looks around, then takes his phone from his pocket. It's only now I realize that I never told him we were leaving. Seconds later, Harlow's phone rings.

And rings.

And rings.

She doesn't answer, and my chest tightens at the thought of her dad hurting like this. Worrying like this.

Another phone ringing, mine this time, and I take it out of my pocket and sigh. If anyone knows what it's like to worry, not knowing the whereabouts of someone you're responsible for, it's me. Harlow looks from the phone to me, and my eyes drift shut when I tell her, "I have to. At least to let him know you're okay."

Harlow concedes, nodding once, and I answer with, "She's with me."

I can practically feel his relief in the loudness of his exhale. "Is she coming home tonight?"

My gaze lowers at the utter devastation in his voice. "I don't know… but I don't plan to leave her side, so…"

"So you'll take care of her for me?"

"Yes, sir."

He hangs up, and I turn to Harlow, but she's looking at something in her hand—a tiny cardboard box that must've fallen out of my pocket when I took out my phone. "What is this?" she asks.

Internally, I groan. Externally, I say, "That is… terrible timing."

"What is it?" she asks again, and I wish that this wasn't happening now. Not when her life is in shambles like this. I fear what's in the box might only make it worse.

I stare ahead at the house next door. It feels emptier now than it has since Harlow moved in. "I got it for you after you told me it was your birthday, but I couldn't find the courage to give it to you before we were… official, I guess. And then I kind of forgot about it, but you have it now, so…"

Harlow slides the inner cardboard box out of its case, revealing the necklace I'd bought for her months ago. The chain is silver, just like her earrings, and it's thin, delicate, just like her. The pendant is made up of ruby-red jewels formed into the shape of a number five.

"It's my brother's number," she chokes out, running her thumb over the pendant. "And his jersey color."

"Yeah."

"Jace…"

It's not a big deal,I want to tell her, but it kind of is. It's the first gift I've ever bought anyone, and I'm happy that it was for Harlow. I open my mouth to speak, but then she's kissing away all other thoughts. The remnants of her tears linger on her lips, and the taste of them spreads on my tongue when she deepens the kiss.

I've dreamed of this moment. Fantasized about it on the nights when I sat up here, alone, wishing to one day hold the version of her I have now.

We pull apart when my phone alerts me to a text, and I assume it's Harlow's dad, but it's not.

"Who is it?" Harlow asks, and I shake my head, heave out a sigh.

"My grandpa wasn't home when I checked in earlier, so I messaged Mae. She owns the store."

"Yeah, I know her."

"She just got back to me now, saying my grandpa left there an hour ago."

"So where is he?"

"I don't know," I mumble. I'd checked the house before letting Harlow in just in case my grandpa was in one of his moods. He wasn't in the living room or in his room, and so I assumed he was still at Mae's. But maybe I didn't look hard enough.

"He might be here or in the yard. I should go check."

I climb in through the window first and help her do the same, and once she's on her feet, I say, reluctantly, "Stay here, okay? Please."

She nods, and I make quick work of checking every room downstairs, as well as all the closets, the pantry, anywhere a drunk old man can fit. Having no luck there, I check the yard, all the way around the house, and still, nothing. I go back up to my room, finding Harlow exactly where I left her. "I'm so sorry to do this, but we have to go find him."

"Find him?"

I grab my keys from my desk. "He does this sometimes. Just… goes missing."

She watches me for a moment, her eyes filled with sympathy, and after the night she's had, this is the last thing she should be worried about.

"It's not a big deal," I assure.

"Right…" Her eyes trail from me to my bed, and she asks, "Do you mind if I just stay here then?"

I rub my eyes, frustrated at my grandpa for putting me in this situation. "I really don't want to leave you alone."

"I know, and I appreciate that." She steps up to me, tugging on my shirt. "But I think I just need to crawl into bed and cry for a bit?—"

"But—"

"I promise I won't go anywhere or do anything. I just need to, like… decompress. Please, Jace."

I give in to her, only because I can hear the desperation in her words. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," she says. "I understand." And then she hands me the necklace before turning and holding her hair away from her neck. "Will you help me put this on?"

I press my lips to her neck first, then clip it in place.

When she turns to me again, she rises to her toes, kisses me once. "I love it so much," she whispers, clasping the pendant. "Thank you."

It takes way too long to find my grandpa passed out in a ditch on the side of the road between Mae's shop and my house. He must've tried walking home and fallen at some point, but I know he's still conscious because he groaned when I shined the flashlight at his face.

I get him into my van, into the house, and into his bed as quickly as possible, and then race up to my room to see Harlow. She's sitting in the middle of my bed, staring out the window, and she's changed out of her clothes and into one of my athletic school shirts. I can't help but smile at the sight of it.

"I stole one of your shirts," she says. "Sorry."

"Don't be. You look good in it." After slipping off my shoes, I get on the bed with her, sitting opposite, and place the paper bag between us. "I got us some food from the rink. I know it's hard, but you should try to eat something." My eyes narrow when I take in her face. She'd been crying, obviously, but that's not what I'm focused on. Her cheek is red right where her mom slapped her. It's darker just beneath her eye, and she winces when I run my thumb gently over the spot. My rage simmers beneath my flesh, and I fight to push it aside. "Has she ever done this to you before?"

"Never," she says, her eyes drifting shut. "I don't know how you handle it the way you do."

I don't respond, because what can I say?

"Did you find your grandpa?"

"Yeah… he was in a ditch on the side of the road."

Her eyes snap open. "Jace…"

"Hey, at least it wasn't a gutter, right?"

"Oh my God," she murmurs, dropping her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry she said that. She had no right."

"Don't apologize for her. And I'm sorry. It was supposed to be a joke…"

"It's not funny."

"Sorry." I open the bag and start divvying out the meal. "I got you that chicken sandwich you like and that iced tea lemonade drink." She doesn't respond, and I don't question her silence. I've worked out that when Harlow's upset, she likes to stew in those feelings. Usually, I'll stay quiet and let her go through the motions, until eventually, she changes the subject, and we go from there. But that doesn't feel like enough now, and I don't know what to say, what to do, or how to fix her.

She takes a bite of her food, then swallows before saying, "I don't know why she hates me so much. If anyone has the right to, it's my dad. He had to look at me every day and question if I was his…"

I'm too caught up in my thoughts to respond right away, and clearly, I take too long, because she asks, "Jace? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," I'm quick to say. "I was just thinking about your dad. Does he have anyone to confide in right now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just… I don't want to take away from what you're feeling, but your dad is going through it too, and the two people who should normally be there for him aren't exactly…" I trail off, not knowing how to finish. "I just hope that he's okay. Your dad's a good guy, and your mom—she's a real piece of work." I reach up, move her hair behind her ear so I can see her clearly. Red cheek and all. "Luckily, even shitty humans can create perfect children."

"I'm far from perfect," she scoffs.

"You're perfect to me." I shrug, unwrapping my burger and bringing it to my lips.

For a long moment, Harlow just watches me eat, the way I've watched her in the past, and the second I'm done, only minutes later, she smiles. "I love the way you see me."

"I wish you could see yourself through my eyes." I lean forward, press my lips to hers, keep them there when I add, "You make loving you so easy."

"Jace…" She pouts up at me.

I shrug. "It's true."

I stare at Jace, and the longer I do, the more vulnerable I become, because nothing lasts forever. I'd often thought of Jace as the light in my darkness and our love the most brilliant star amid the night sky. But… it's the biggest, brightest stars that burn out the fastest.

"What?" he asks, breaking the silence stretching between us.

"Nothing." I smile through my heartache. "You're just beautiful, is all."

"Beautiful?" he scoffs, almost offended by my words. "Ruggedly handsome, maybe. But beautiful? No."

"You can be both." I feed him some fries, distracting him from pushing further. I don't want to reveal my insecurities to him. Not now. Not ever. He accepts the fries, chewing as he grabs my hips and effortlessly lifts me and pulls me closer until I'm straddling his lap. He presses his lips to my neck, kissing me there, again and again. I squirm in his hold, muting my laughter, and God, I needed this. Needed him. I push even closer so we're chest to chest, almost every inch of our bodies touching. He's so solid against me. So strong. So everything I'm not.

I lace my fingers through his hair while he continuously presses his lips to my flesh, and then I glance out the window. My house is dark now, the only light coming from the lamp on my bedside table. "You can really see into my room from here, huh?"

Jace tugs down on the sleeve of his shirt I'm wearing, dropping a kiss on my shoulder. "Uh-huh."

"Did you really used to watch me?"

"Yep," he says, no shame.

"What did you see?"

He pulls away, shrugging. "I saw that during the summer, whenever your mom was home, you would leave. You'd walk the field down to the tree line and disappear into the woods. At first, I thought you knew about the affair, and that's why you couldn't stand to be around her."

I nod and, finished with the food, I toss the rest in the bag and put it aside. "What else did you see?"

"I saw you in your room a lot."

"And?"

"That's it." He resumes his task, placing tiny kisses on my shoulder, my neck, my jaw. He does this a lot when we're alone, and not because he expects it to lead to more. He just… likes to kiss me. Touch me. Hold me. And I revel in his embrace, in the way he makes me feel wanted. Safe.

"What did you think about when you saw me in there?"

He stifles his chuckle into my neck. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

I mock gasp, pulling back, and hold his face in both my hands. "Jace Rivera, did you have naughty thoughts about me?"

His head throws back with my quiet laughter, and I can't help but smile at the sight of him.

"You dog," I giggle, playfully slapping his shoulder. "What exactly did you think about?"

"Nothing filthy," he admits. "I just imagined this." He runs his hands up and down my side. "You and me, together, exactly like this."

Eying him sideways, I say, "But you didn't even know me."

"I knew enough."

I search his eyes, find nothing but peace within their depths. "Thank you for being there for me. Not just tonight, but all the other times," I tell him. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sure you'd survive."

"That's exactly what I was doing before you. Surviving."

"And now?"

I shrug. "You make me want more."

"Because I love you?" he asks, and I smile wider.

There's such an innocence to Jace, a purity in his soul that makes me want to be better. Do better. Not just for him, but for me. The problem? I don't know if I'll ever live up to that standard. I kiss him just so I can hide my emotions. My fears. His hands settle on my butt, urging me closer as I run my tongue along the seam of his lips. I moan when his fingers curl, gripping me tighter, then again at the first stroke of our tongues. Needing more, I reach for the hem of his shirt, break the kiss just long enough to remove it completely. He's so warm beneath my touch. So solid. I run my fingertips down his chest, smiling against his lips when I pass the dip, dip, dip of his abs, and he reaches up, under my shirt, to my nape, then my hair. He tugs gently, forcing my head back so he can kiss my neck. His free hand glides up my side and over my breast, and then he uses his thumb to toy with my nipple. "Jace," I moan, bearing down and pushing into him. I'm warm at the core, and he's hard—so hard it rubs against me just right.

He pulls back, just enough to remove my shirt, leaving me in just my underwear, and then his mouth is on my flesh, lips parted around the tip of my breasts, and I close my eyes, drift into euphoria. Within seconds, I'm wet, pulsing between my legs, and I let out a moan that ricochets off the walls around us.

Hands back on my ass, he lifts me up, then slowly lowers me onto my back. I watch as he crawls between my legs, carefully lays over me, his weight held up on one elbow. Then he grabs my thigh, brings it upward while his mouth meets mine again. He settles in between my legs, hand gripping my thigh as his cock glides against me, over and over, again and again, and it doesn't take long for the sensation to build, to pool at my core. There are still layers of clothing between us, too many barriers, and I break the kiss, breathe through the pleasure building inside me. "Do you have a condom?"

Jace's eyes open, meeting mine—confusion at first, and then understanding. "Are you sure, baby? I don't want to take advantage of you while you're?—"

"I'm sure," I breathe out, nodding. "I love you, Jace. I want this."

He nods, but doesn't move right away.

I break eye contact, my insecurities kicking in. "Unless you don't want to."

"No, I do," he's quick to assure before moving away. "I just want you to be sure."

"I am." I clear the bag of food off the bed and get under the covers while he opens the drawer on his nightstand. "Could you turn off the light?"

He eyes me, confused.

"It's just… if I can see into my bedroom, I'd hate for my dad?—"

"Say less," he cuts in, and I giggle, wait to be shrouded in darkness before removing my underwear. Within seconds, I'm beneath him again, my entire body burning with desire while he works me to the edge with his fingers, then his mouth. "Jace," I breathe out, gripping the blankets beside me. "I need you."

He crawls up my body again, his mouth merging with mine, offering me a taste of my pleasure as I push his shorts down his hips, leaving him bare for me. He jerks back, moaning when I wrap my fingers around him.

"Condom?"

He tears into the packet, and I watch through the semidarkness as he slides it over him. My breath halts when he guides his cock through my folds, then slowly, carefully, pushes inside me. I stretch around him, biting my lip at the full sensation.

"Fuck," he bites out, his teeth sinking into my shoulder. "You feel so fucking good."

"So good," I agree.

"I love you, Harlow."

"Forever," I promise into the darkness.

I'll love him forever—beyond the life of the brightest stars in the skies… even when he stops feeling the same.

And as Jace lowers his lips to mine, gentle and soft, matching the way he thrusts into me, I get it now—why people want to wait.

Why Jace chose to wait.

Because what we're doing, what we're sharing, doesn't just mean something.

It means everything.