My mouth pops open, but no words escape. The burning wetness that was there because I thought she was going to break my heart still hovers in my eyes, but now it’s there because entire parts of me are being reborn. Parts of my soul that I thought would be dead forever.
“It’s heavy if you think about it.” She yawns. It’s an hour before dawn, too early for either of us to be awake.
“How?” I don’t care about the heaviness. I’ll take it if this is how it feels to be loved by her. I gather Echo into my arms, and she rests her head on my pillow.
“Like it gives you a power.”
“What type of power is that?” My eyelids close.
She yawns again and her words are slurred through her exhaustion. “So now that I gave you this special gift, isn’t your job to take care of it?”
Taking care of her—I can do that. “I’m going to spend my whole life making you happy.”
“You better.” Echo jerks then resettles.
She does this—falls asleep then floats into barely awake. There’s a brief few seconds where I can ask her anything, and the truth tumbles out of her mouth. I’m a dick for taking advantage of it, but I never claimed to be the good guy. “What will make you happy, Echo?”
“You,” she mumbles groggily.
Not enough. “What else? What will make you happy?”
“Staying here.” Her voice trails off toward the end. “I don’t want to go home. Ever.”
The smile on my face fades as I stare at Echo now asleep in my arms. I think of what she said when she calmed down from her night terror: I’m tired of living in the past...I don’t want to go back... We were fine after graduation and before the sand dunes. Before we talked about heading back. Everything was perfect.
She tried to tell me, several ways, but I assumed something else and cut her off. It’s like someone’s rammed a knife into my gut.
Fuck me—I took her virginity, knowing what it meant to her, and in return I promised her happiness, a home, a life, a future. How the hell could I swear promises to her when in the end, I’ve never understood what she craves out of life.
Echo
I made love to Noah Hutchins, and the entire world has continued on as normal. It seems like I should be granted the time to soak this in, to sort out the emotions and excitement and fears, but like always the world doesn’t spin in my favor.
The green trees of the forest merge into a collage as Noah flies past them in his hunt back to Vail. He works tonight and, in theory, I should be working, as well. That is, if I decide to paint the constellation Aires.
Noah’s quieter than normal. Not that he’s all conversational the majority of the time, but I catch him staring at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. Like now, as I sit in the passenger side of my Honda Civic and scroll aimlessly through my phone, he keeps peeking at me. Real intense, as if he’s scared I’m going to go Alien and freak.
The night terror I had last night wasn’t my worst, but I’m devastated it happened. My mind has converted into an insecure seesaw, and I’m over being on the ride. But as much as I try to concentrate on a solid path, the questions continue to multiply.
For instance, now that he’s conquered me, like Beth’s continually suggesting, will Noah move on? And if that’s not the case, am I the same person to him as before we made love, and does he like what he now sees?
Because to be truthful, deep underneath my skin, in the light of morning, Noah appears different to me. Not in a bad way, but just...changed.
Experience has told me that change normally is the absence of good, and this causes the sensation of ants crawling around in my stomach. My foot drums against the floor, and Noah raises an eyebrow. “You okay?”
“Yes.” Absolutely not. My entire world is in flux again, and it’s like grasping on to a slippery rock next to a waterfall. I can’t get a good grip, but at the same time I wouldn’t mind the fall into the deep pool below. It’s all so beautiful yet terrifying.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” But this frantic panic gains traction...am I different to him and if so, what does that mean for us?
It’s funny how, until waking next to him this morning, I never noticed the small scar above his eyebrow, and how there’s this spicy sweetness to his dark scent. Over the past couple of months, I’ve memorized Noah’s smell, but now it seems to be everywhere, all the time, and I clutch it like it’s a blanket. It reminds me of him pulling me close and declaring his love.
I bite my tongue, wishing I could utter the words, I love you more now, and it scares me. Please, please, please never leave. That’s all Noah must dream about. Making love to a girl who goes pathetic in the morning.
“There’s something going on, Echo. So tell me what.”
I give an exaggerated sigh and dig out the least wretched of my worries. “Will people know?”
“Know what?”
I glance him over and get a little thrill with how the muscles in his arms ripple as he readjusts his hold on the wheel.
“That we...you know...” Say it. “Made love?”
He rubs his mouth to hide the smirk forming there, but I smack his arm because I saw it.
“You’re not making me feel better,” I say as a tease, but I’m as serious as a death sentence.
Noah chuckles. “You’re way too uptight, baby. If you act like this, then yeah, Isaiah and Beth will spot it a mile away.”
My head hits the back of the seat. Freaking fantastic. I’m so utterly screwed.
“But it doesn’t matter how you act.”
“Why?”
His eyes devour me. “Because they’ll know it the moment they see me.”
A silly grin spreads across my face as I might like where this is heading. “Why’s that?”
“From the moment we finished last night, I wanted to do it again. My fingers hurt because I want to touch you so bad. I can’t stop the itch to explore your skin and to kiss you and...” His fingers actually flex on the wheel. “No one’s going to miss that I’m continually three seconds from yanking you behind a closed door and stripping you naked.”
That one declaration causes those mutant pterodactyls to raise their heads and grow restless, stretching their wings in preparation for flight. While the fantasy he wove is fantastically cool and amazing, it makes me hot and flustered to think he wants me bad enough to actually do something like that...in public...
“Will we do it all the time now?” And as soon as the question leaves my mouth, I’m swamped in the land of lame. “I mean, I know that wasn’t a one-time deal, but is that what we’ll do forever? Like now that we’ve accomplished actually doing it, is that what we’ll do night after night or will we do other things?”
And I’m rambling. Horribly so. Oh, God, kill me. Now. Send a bolt of lightning from the sky and strike me dead.
“Because it was special.” Because I have this horrid deficiency where I feel the need to explain why I’m a freak of nature. “And while it was special and awesome, I’m not sure how awesome it will be every single night. Because...well...” It hurt.
Noah laughs, but his laughter dies when he notices I’m not laughing with him.
“Hey,” he says. But I can’t look at him because of this sickening weight in my stomach. Noah laughed at me. I opened up, just a little, and he laughed.
“Echo.” Noah switches the hand he’s driving with then reaches over and grabs on to the fingers resting in my lap, but I jerk them away. “Look at me.”
But I can’t. “I wasn’t joking. This is still new and it still scares me and...forget it.”
“I’m the dick. I keep telling you to talk then I cut you off. I thought you were kidding.”
Anger courses through me like a rocket launch. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
&nb
sp; “No.” He alternates his focus between me and the road. “You look fucking pissed.”
I don’t know why, but I giggle. So much so, that I smack a hand over my mouth to stop it from coming, but the giggles continue. “Do I look that bad?”
Noah opens his mouth, closes it then smashes his lips together in a fine line as if examining his thoughts. “Not anymore. What’s going on in your head?”
I trace the outline of my phone as the whiplash emotions settle. “I don’t want us to change. What we did was huge, and I want us to be okay.”
Noah seeks my hand again, but this time I let him take it. He lifts my fingers to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “We’re okay. I swear.”
Noah
Echo stays silent when I ease into a spot at the hotel and shut off the engine. She gave me a special part of her last night, and I almost fucked it up. First my parents then my brothers. Echo’s the lone piece of my soul worth holding on to.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
I will never understand her. “For what?”
“For being me.” Echo drops the statement and exits the car. What the hell?
I follow her out then join her when she leans against the side of the car.
“I thought after we took this trip,” she continues, “that I’d somehow be stronger and more confident—I thought this summer was going to change me, but I only have two thousand more questions instead of any answers.”
I rest my hands on her shoulders and stare straight into her eyes. “Do you regret it?”
She blinks, shocked at the question. “What?”
“Do you regret making love to me?”
Lines form on her forehead as she squints. “No. I...I...”
Not reading her mind is torture. “What?”
“I want things to be simple...and for us to be okay...and...and to know that after all this, you still love me.”
Bang—the sound of the weight of the world sliding off my shoulders. Is that it? Is that all that bothers her? I gather Echo into me like a man pardoned from death row. “I love you. We won’t change. I promise.”
It’s when she relaxes in my arms that I find the peace I had last night when we were together. She craves simple, and all the two of us have ever known is complicated.
I’m a man of word, and I’m determined to keep this promise. If I’m doing this whole relationship thing then it’s time I figure out how to put her needs first. Damn me to hell that this plan includes eating my pride. “What are your plans for today?”
“Laundry,” she mumbles into my chest. “I’ve noticed your lack of boxer short wearing.”
“Easy access, baby.”
A muffled humph on her end. “I’ve already told you that the dressing room was a one-time deal.”
“Stop messing with my fantasies. What else are you doing today?”
“I need to call my dad.”
“What else?”
Echo’s shoulders turn rock-solid, and she shifts. She’s terrified of starting another fight. For the past couple of days we’ve been unbalanced. I can’t allow it, not anymore. Not after last night. “You should try the painting.”
She rises onto her toes. “For real?”
For that look? “Yeah. Knock this Hunter asshole dead.”
Literally, and then I’ll kick him while he’s down for shits and giggles.
“He’s giving me a shot. He’s not an ass. I swear, he’s a good guy.”
Hole. I said asshole. He stalked her then stared at her tits in front of me. Open a dictionary and that would be the ghetto translation of asshole. “All the same, I’m dropping you off and picking you up. If I text, you text back. If I call, you answer. Otherwise, I’m showing. At least for today. I want to confirm the guy’s not a serial killer who’s decided to create a living doll out of you.”
“Are you going to beat your chest next and toss me over your shoulder before killing something with your bare hands for dinner?”
I love that she throws shit back at me without batting an eye. “I’ll even start the fire to cook it up.”
Her head falls back. “Oh. My. God.”
“Just for today. Push me on this, Echo, and I’ll redefine caveman for you. No one fucks around with you. Got it?”
No one. I once failed the two most important people in my life, and I won’t fail her. Period.
“You’re impossible.”
Which means I won. “Damn straight.”
“Fine, but you have to play nice with Hunter.” Schooled on how to seal a deal, she stretches for a kiss. Echo’s going for a quick peck, but I’ll be damned if that’s all I get. My fingers weave in her hair, and I immediately crush my lips to hers, sweeping my tongue into her mouth, a move that drives her wild.
Echo goes weak as if her knees gave, but she draws enough strength to heighten the kiss. The entire world fades, leaving only her fingers tracing my neck. She presses her body so tightly to mine that I can feel the soft weight of her breasts against my chest. Our lips greedily dance in time, and my exploration of her body begins.
My hand cups the curve of her ass, and flashes of her naked body under mine from last night rip through my brain. Her warmth surrounds me, and a rough sound leaves my throat. I want Echo, and I want Echo now.
“Get a room,” Beth says.
Echo jerks away, and I immediately rest my fingers around the nape of her neck to keep her close and to silently tell Beth to back off.
Beth stands with her arms crossed over her chest near the hood of the car, scowling at the move. “For real. You. Her. Walls.”
“I had a room,” I say. “But someone took it.”
“That’s something you should have considered before you told Isaiah to drag my ass to everybody-loves-nature middle of nowhere.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” As in not here.
“That’s the problem—no, I don’t.”
I scratch my forehead. She’s right. She doesn’t. Not for a week.
Beth looks Echo over like she’s a mannequin in a store. “I need a bathing suit.”
“We’re not the same size,” replies Echo. My girl is taller—by half a foot.
“I’ll stuff the top with tissues if you’re that concerned, but it still doesn’t remove my need of a bathing suit. There’s a hot tub, and I’m going in. Unless you help me out, clothing is becoming optional, and I’m telling hotel management that it was your idea.”
Echo beelines for the hotel entrance. “I’ve got a couple you can try on.”
Beth follows her and heads in, but Echo hesitates. “You’re coming, right?”
I shove my hands in my pockets. Once I walk through that door, regardless of whether or not we’re in Kentucky, with Beth and Isaiah staying with us, Echo and I will be back to our reality.
That’s good and it’s bad, and I’m determined to make it work. “Yeah. I am.”
Echo
Noah scans the outside of the gallery like he’s a Special Forces soldier on the prowl behind enemy lines. We’re in the same quaint little village as I was before with the cobblestone streets and cute Swiss-type buildings, but Noah acts as if we’re dodging hostile fire.
We left Beth and Isaiah at the hotel, her in the possession of one of my bikinis, while Noah and I headed over to Hunter’s gallery. Noah’s shift starts soon, but he’s determined to walk me in like a kindergartener on her first day.
“You said you were fine with this,” I say.
“I am,” he bites out.
“Noah...please no throwing this guy against the wall, okay?”
His jaw ticks. “Let’s get this done.”
Noah opens the door for me and nods for me to enter. This is one of those places where you draw your arms and leg
s in to make yourself smaller. The paintings are so detailed, so magnificent that they have to be worth more than my life and Noah’s put together. Cherubs are carved into the white molding, and crystal chandeliers hang from above. While I meander through, wide-eyed and reverent, Noah struts in with the grace of a bull in a glass factory.
“Echo! Good to see you!” Hunter calls from the back of the store. He waves his hand for me to follow and disappears behind a wall of beads.
“That would be where he keeps his torture chamber,” Noah mutters. “Do you think he snaps before and after pictures of his prey?”
“Shhhh.”
He does, but shoulders past me to take the lead. Behind the beads, a dimly lit staircase winds up, and Hunter’s footsteps echo from above. With a sigh that almost passes as a groan, Noah starts the climb, and I trail after.
Light beckons us forward. When we reach the top, I crane my neck to glance around Noah and release an excited breath. It’s raw. It’s floorboards. It’s the spikes of roofing nails protruding from the ceiling, and it’s lit by hundreds of tiny Christmas tree lights. Windows run along the back wall, and canvases sit every few feet waiting for their owners to return. Each painting is in various stages, but I can see the genius in each one.
In the corner, Hunter places a blank canvas on an empty easel. “This is yours. Everything you need is right here at your fingertips, and if you can’t find it, tell me and I’ll get it for you.”
Like a magnetic pull, I’m attracted to the canvas. A million butterflies crash within me when I spot the new paints and brushes. Never used. Never opened. All ready for me to crack the seals and explore. This is a holy moment.
“I’m Noah.”
I practically vault for the ceiling with the sound of Noah’s voice behind me, and guilt creeps into my soul. I got so entrenched in what was in front of me that I forgot introductions. Nearly killing me, I pivot away from the easel and clear my throat. “Hunter, this is my boyfriend, Noah. Noah, this is Hunter.”