Quiet sounds of pleasure rose from her throat, and she slid lower, bringing her mouth back to mine. "I want you," she whispered.
"I want you, too. So much. But not out here. Not on the ground. I have to . . . I have to give you better than that."
"This is fine," she said, and I couldn't help smiling at the desperate note in her voice.
"No. It isn't fine. But I won't leave you unsatisfied. Can I touch you?"
Her eyes met mine and widened very slightly. They were a darker shade of violet, glazed with passion.
"Yes," she said. I brought my mouth back to hers, reaching beneath her dress and letting my hand trail up her thigh. She froze.
"Trust me," I said. Her body relaxed, and she began kissing me again.
I used my finger to trace the waistband of her underwear, and she shivered above me. Reaching inside, I found the small swollen nub hidden at the top of her folds and circled my finger around it. She pushed herself into my hand and moaned. I thought I was probably going to come in my pants at the excitement of seeing her so aroused. I parted my own legs under her so I had room to bring my hand lower and slipped one finger into her wet entrance. "Oh, God," I murmured. "You're so wet, so sweet." She brought her face into the side of my neck and I felt her mouth open on a gasp as I went just a little deeper with my finger, using my thumb to circle and play with her sensitive peak. Her hot breaths against my neck made me lose my mind with desire. But this was about her. This was about bringing her pleasure.
Just as I thought it, Lily's body went taut, her small cry muffled against my neck as she shuddered and came on my hand. After a moment, I slipped my finger out of her and brought my hand to her neck so I could lift her mouth gently to mine. Before our lips met, I glimpsed her face, drunk with pleasure, a small smile on her lips. I kissed her slowly, trying desperately to rein in my own unfulfilled need.
Lily let out a small sigh, resting against me for several moments. We breathed together, the downpour shifting to a gentle smattering on the leaves above. "The rain is stopping," she murmured softly.
"Does that mean we have to go back?" I asked.
She smiled and put her lips back on mine, nodding her head.
"Come back with me. Stay with me tonight."
"I can't. My mother . . ."
"You're a grown woman, Lily. Surely she can't expect you not to live your life."
She sighed, pulling away from me and scooting off my lap. I was still half hard and I adjusted myself slightly. "That's exactly what she expects. For her, I'll never grow up. It's . . . complicated."
"Then explain it to me."
She stood up and I did, too. "I'll find a way to come to your lodge in the next few days, okay?" She smiled. "And in the meantime, we still have the forest."
"I'll take whatever I can get, Lily of the Night." I smiled and kissed her again. We still have the forest.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Holden
The next few days were among the happiest I'd ever spent, despite feeling sick and chained to the pills I hadn't yet found the courage to stop taking. That chore weighed on me, a dark shadow in the back of my mind. I knew I needed to do it and do it soon—I wanted Lily to know all of me, not the shell of the man I'd become.
Plus, the headaches were getting worse. I was sick in a way the pills had never made me sick before. I needed to get off them and regain my health before I could begin to give anything at all to another person. But in the meantime, I reveled in the wonderful, seemingly dreamy world Lily created. We walked through the forest hand in hand as she pointed out all the things I'd have missed if it was only me: the wood thrushes and butterflies, the columbine bushes, now maroon in late summer. We drank the cold, sweet stream water that flowed from the mountains above and fed each other wild strawberries.
We kissed everywhere, against trees and rocks, in wide-open fields, and at the edge of the stream, lying in the sunshine as the water gurgled and splashed next to us. She worked me into a frenzy of lust so powerful I could barely catch my breath some days. I wanted her with every cell in my body. And the way she moved her hips against mine, the way her eyes glazed over when we touched, I knew she wanted me, too. I had never known this type of physical want, even stronger than the craving I felt for the pills. It made me crazy, but it brought me hope. The numbing peace the pills brought was an illusion. Lily, Lily was real. And with her, I didn't need to be any of the titles I'd collected. I didn't need to be my mistakes or my pain. I was just . . . me, and I started to finally hope that that was okay.
But I also knew very well Lily was innocent—her tentative touches, her surprised reactions, the unabashed delight she showed each time I touched her in a way that brought pleasure, told me all I needed to know.
Maybe once I got off the pills, we could just stay in this forest until the end of time. A simple life suddenly seemed like a wistful, impossible dream. To spend days walking through the fresh air of the woods, talking about everything and nothing, and to enjoy evenings in front of a warm fire, reading, and then making love late into the night, celebrating life in the most ancient of ways. I wanted to dive into that kind of deeply beautiful simplicity, suddenly longed for it clear to my soul. It sounded like . . . freedom.
I walked to meet her at the edge of the forest a couple days after I'd first touched her under the boughs of a tree in the mist of the rain. It was a sunlit evening, and as I stepped into the dim light of the woods, she turned slowly toward the sound of my footsteps. She was wearing a pale purple dress and her brown boots. Her lips tipped up in a beautiful smile, and the whisper of a breeze picked up a lock of her hair.
Suddenly, a pale beam of sunlight shifted through the trees, casting a light across her body, seeming to make her shimmer, waver between this world and another. And my heart shimmered, too, at her awe-inspiring beauty. She was so gorgeous, I ached. A dream. A vision. No, no, real. So very real. The moment wasn't shimmering with dreaminess, but with a sudden, sharp reality. Because the emotion I felt couldn't be denied: I was in love with her. Deeply, madly, sweetly in love.
And I couldn't tell her. It wasn't fair—I was only half a man right now. So I'd keep it to myself, for now. And I knew: I had to get clean. I couldn't put it off anymore. Tonight would be our final night together until I could come to her as she deserved.
I walked to her, my body suddenly trembling at the realization, my head beginning to ache, as it seemed to have done all week.
"Hi," she breathed, wrapping her arms around me and immediately bringing her lips to mine.
I kissed her and then laughed softly when she pulled her head away.
"What?" she asked.
"I like that you can't keep your hands off me."
"How could I? Am I expected to resist a Boy Scout with high honors, one who kisses like you do? I'm only human, after all."
"True. You were a goner the minute I stepped into these woods."
"Hmm," she hummed as she wiped a bead of moisture off my bottom lip. "I know."
I cocked my head to the side. "Can you come to the lodge tonight? You haven't been inside it yet."
She bit her lip but then nodded her head. I took her hand and led her across the open grassy area to the stairs of the lodge. She looked a little nervous, but I squeezed her hand and pulled her along.
When we stepped through the door, she hesitated and looked around. When she finally moved farther inside, she placed her hand on the back of the couch, looking up at the high, beamed ceiling. I followed her gaze—remembering the speakers in the walls that I'd noticed the first week I'd arrived—and walked over to the shelf where I turned on the iPod docked there. A cover of Elvis's "Can't Help Falling in Love" filled the room, and Lily turned to me smiling. I walked back to her, suddenly feeling shy. I wiped my palms on my jeans and took her in my arms, swaying to the music. "I'm not a very good dancer," I admitted.
"This feels nice," she said, pressing closer to me. "I've never danced before."
I drew back slightly. "N
ever?"
She shook her head. "See, you shouldn't have told me you aren't a good dancer. I'd never have known." She grinned and my heart stuttered.
"Until you danced with someone else."
For a moment, she simply gazed at me. "I don't want to dance with anyone else."
I swallowed. "Me neither, Lily." I pulled her closer as the song continued, thinking how the lyrics applied to me. Because I couldn't help it. I was in love with the girl in my arms and it seemed . . . meant to be, like fate. Beautifully designed. That we had, against all odds, somehow found each other out here in the middle of nowhere. Two people who needed each other so desperately. The song ended and we drew apart, Lily kissing me softly.
"Thank you," she said, "for giving me my first dance."
I smiled back and went to turn off the music. She wandered through the living room and I followed her, not saying a word as she went into the kitchen, trailing her hand along the granite countertops. "This is nice," she said. "It's so strange to be seeing it from the inside, instead of through the window." She gave me a small, embarrassed smile. "Said the stalker."
I laughed, leaning a hip on the doorframe and crossing my arms. I'd be happy just watching her forever. The way she looked, the way she moved . . .
She gave a slight shake of her head, walking to the refrigerator where she took a moment to look at the pictures affixed with magnets—so many. I hadn't even taken the time to look very closely at them. Mostly party pictures, it looked like, now that I was noticing, probably from the different get-togethers Brandon had had out here. She smiled, leaning in so she could look more closely here and there. "So many friends . . ." she murmured, a note of . . . jealousy? Was that jealousy in her voice? No, nothing that strong. Maybe wistfulness? As if she didn't have any friends.
"I—" I frowned, stopping myself from asking her to tell me every detail about her past. I wanted that, needed that, but I also wanted to give her the same and—I massaged my temples—I couldn't do that until I was clean. Let it be your reward, my mind whispered. Yes, Lily would be my reward.
"Where do you sleep?" she asked, her smile returning.
"Upstairs," I answered. God, I wanted to lead her to my bed and spend the night worshipping every inch of her skin. I wanted to lose myself in the warm heaven of her body. "Do you want a drink? A soda, or . . ." My voice sounded hoarse.
Lily nodded. I went to the cabinet and started making her drink as she walked to the window and looked outside for a moment. My breath faltered as I glanced at her profile. She was so beautiful. Would I ever get used to the effect she had on me? She wandered back into the living room. When I walked into the room a minute after her, holding her drink, she was standing by the window, a magazine in her hand. I supposed she'd found it in the basket next to the large, overstuffed leather recliner, the one filled with all sorts of reading material.
I froze as she turned toward me, her face pale, arrested. Stricken. She looked from the magazine to me. "Holden Scott," she said softly, blinking at me. "This is . . . this is . . . you?" she asked. From the small amount of cover I could see, it was a Sports Illustrated. I didn't know which specific edition it was, but I'd been on the cover several times, it could be one of many. I nodded. She looked from the magazine cover back to me again. Her body was stiff, and she looked as if she was in shock.
"I know, I didn't tell you I'm a football player, or that I'm, well, very well known," I said, setting her drink on the coffee table. I ran my hand through my hair, as she eyed me. She blinked, looking confused, wary. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "I just . . . I just didn't want to be him," I nodded my head to the magazine, "out here, with you. You helped me remember that that's not who I am. And, God, it's been so painful." I frowned, clenching my eyes closed for a moment. "I guess I'm not making sense, but you've helped me. You've helped me so much, and I don’t even want to explain it all to you until I'm well again. Can you trust me?" I walked toward her. When I came to stand in front of her, her eyes moved slowly over my face as she chewed on her lip.
"Is that why you're here?" she asked. "To get well?" Her voice cracked on the last word, and she again, glanced at the magazine and back to me.
I nodded. "Yes. And I'm trying. I'm trying so hard to get well." She continued to stare at me, something working behind her eyes that I had no idea how to read. I stilled as I waited for her reaction. Finally, she reached out and tentatively took my hand in hers, looking down at the back of my hand as she ran a finger over each knuckle. I shivered at her touch. Her eyes met mine, that gorgeous violet gaze seeming so very grave.
"Yes, Boy Scout, I trust you. I want you to be well again."
My breath came out in a rush and relief flooded my chest. To have someone who had faith in me made my heart squeeze with gratitude. "This has to be our last night for a little bit. Just a week, hopefully. But I . . . I need to—"
She put her fingers to my lips. "I know. So let's make the most of the time we have, okay? I want to spend the night with you. Is that okay?"
"God, yes, of course. There's nothing I want more than that."
She took a deep, shuddery breath, seeming to compose herself. "Okay. Okay. So how about we go out on the deck?"
I smiled, feeling elated that she was going to stay. "I have s'mores," I said. "Up for roasting some marshmallows?"
She let out a breath and gave me the glimmer of a smile. "Definitely."
I walked back into the kitchen and grabbed the bag of marshmallows, a few bars of chocolate, and a box of graham crackers. We went out on the deck, and I pulled a couple chairs up to the fire pit. Lily was quiet as I lit the fire. When I looked over at her, she was gazing out to the forest where the sunset’s shafts of gold were streaming into the trees. In the woods, everything must have looked as if it were gilded.
I ran back in and got a plate and laid out the ingredients for the s'mores. Lily seemed to be deep in thought and I didn't interrupt. I was sure she was thinking about me being famous. Surely she hadn't expected that. I wondered if she thought it would impact her own life. I wanted it to, once I was better. The thought itself startled me, but not in a way that brought fear. Instead, in a way that brought . . . peace. It felt right. I wanted to take her out of these woods, to bring her home to my apartment . . . No, I didn't live there anymore. I massaged my temple. Back to the mansion I'd recently bought and hadn't even enjoyed. I wanted to bring her there, to learn her secrets, to take care of her, to make her mine.
Above us, the sky was turning a deep shade of indigo. The small fire crackled and jumped. "Do you want a blanket?" I asked.
Lily shook her head.
I felt nervous around her again, like I had the first few times we'd hung out. "I suppose you're going to mock my Boy Scout skills," I said, pointing to the small fire pit, the one I'd used matches to light. "Flint is generally my preferred method of fire lighting, of course, but it's scarce out here. The first rule of Boy Scouting is you have to make do with what you have." She laughed softly and raised her brows.
"Boy Scouting?"
"That's right."
"I thought the first rule of Boy Scouting was always be prepared."
"Right, but if you're not, figure it out anyway. Make it work. It's in the fine print. Sort of an amendment to the first rule."
"Ah, I see. Well you would know the rules of Boy Scouting better than I." She dragged her chair closer to mine, and I relaxed. Things seemed less awkward, less strained, than they had a few minutes before.
"I like two marshmallows on my s'more. How about you?"
She smiled over at me and nodded. I relaxed even more, my shoulders lowering. She stood up and grabbed the skewers sitting on the edge of the fire pit and stuck one marshmallow on the end of each, handing one to me. We sat in silence as the marshmallows sizzled and turned golden, the sweet, sugary smell rising in the air around us, mixing with the smoke from the fire. "Will you tell me about Ryan?" she asked softly.
I startled, glancing ove
r at her. "Ryan?" I asked, my voice cracking.
She nodded, her eyes filled with something I was having a hard time interpreting. Sorrow? I inhaled a deep breath of smoky, sugary air, pulling my stick out of the fire when I realized my marshmallow was quickly blackening. She had already pulled her marshmallow from the fire and was gingerly pulling a piece off with her fingers. She put it in her mouth, but didn't appear to derive any pleasure from it. "How did he die?" she whispered after a minute.
I put the skewer and the inedible marshmallow aside, leaning my elbows on my knees and staring into the flames. Something about the jumping fire calmed me, was almost hypnotizing. "He fell. He fell to his death." I paused, still not looking at Lily, but I could feel her calming presence right beside me. "We were partying. Or . . . he was at least. They all were . . ." I grimaced, the foggy memory I'd tried to push aside spreading its spindly fingers over my brain, pushing into my flesh, causing my head to throb.
"He had been so damned unhappy in those months leading up to it." Was that right? Why did that feel wrong? I had pushed the memory away so harshly, covering it with drugs and alcohol. I needed to remember.
Oh God, getting off the pills meant I'd have to remember every bit of it. There would be no distractions . . . no physical needs to cover the emotional pain. I sighed. Lily reached out her hand and placed it on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You can do this.
"He fell, and I'm not sure if he meant to or not," I finally said, the words bursting forth on one long exhale of breath. The ache in my chest increased. It felt like a giant weight was sitting on top of me, and I was at risk of being crushed beneath it. "But I . . . I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him. I tried. I tried, but I couldn't. I tried to hold on, but he, he slipped away. Just slipped away." I wanted to wail with the agony that truth brought me. I wanted to raise my head to the heavens and curse a god that would allow my best friend's hand to slip from mine. I hadn't been strong enough. My head throbbed and I gripped it, moaning.