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His eyes are trained on my mouth.
“Lip gloss,” I say thickly.
His eyes are hooding a little. “Haven’t seen you in that since Homecoming,” he murmurs quietly, and I roll my lips together, feeling self-conscious. He removes one of his hands from the front of my dress, making a shudder rip through my nerve-endings, and he plies my bottom lip out with his thumb, before rubbing the pad of it over the rosy swell. “Looks good on you,” he finishes. Then he dips back down to take it with his own.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper as he spoils me with kisses, up my cheeks and down my neck. “I shouldn’t have given up like that. I should have fought harder.” My voice is hoarse.
He shakes his head and then presses his forehead to mine. “You went through so much.I’msorry, baby. But I’m here now, and I’ll be here always. Whatever you want, you’re going to get.”
I bite into my lip, my earlier worries resurfacing. “But college- now that my mom’s set me free I don’t know what I want to do about it all. I’m so fucked,” I say, tears threatening to fall.
He grips my jaw in his hands. Heat shoots in my belly. “We’ll talk about it, baby. We’ll figure it out.I’llfigure it out. ’Til then I wanna take you to my place and…” He looks deep into my eyes. “And I’m gonna take care of you now. For as long as you’ll let me.”
He crowds my body against the passenger door before he leans down to kiss me again, one hand entangling in my blown-out curls and the other fisted on the hood of the truck.
I pull back, gasping, as another brain cell resurfaces. At this point, it’s one of few. “The song- and the band- did you get Madden to play-”
He shuts me up by pressing his mouth firmly to mine, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Okay, I guess the answer to that is pretty obvious, plus I can quiz him as much as I want tomorrow morning when I wake up inhis bed.
And not the one in Mitch’s house – I’m talking about finally going toTate’shouse, wherever the hell that is. I run my hands up over his shoulders and then move one of them to meet his fingers cupping the back of my neck.
He makes a quiet startled sound and pulls away slightly, his eyes moving to our hands. I look up at him surprised – did I scratch him or something? – but then he looks down bashfully and shakes his head as if to clear it.
“Uh,” he starts, and he swallows thickly. “So this is aI’m taking you backkinda moment, right?” he asks, his cheekbones glowing sunset-red.
I blink up at him confused but nod anyway. “Yeah, obviously,” I say, trying to pull his face back down to mine.
He laughs shyly and then nods. “Thank God for that,” he says, and then he moves the hand from my hair so that it’s resting over his chest.
My eyes instantly move to his hand and my mouth drops open. I read the letters freshly inked into his knuckles in neatly scripted capitals.
RIVER.
Just like he always said he would.
My fingers fly up to my face and I burst into tears. He breathes out a laugh as he pulls me into his chest, cradling my head against the open collar of his shirt, his beautiful strong scent filling the air around me.
“The only word I never fuck up,” he jokes, but it only makes me sob harder. The most faithful person that I have ever met has branded his inhumanely incredible body with my name,permanently.
How did I get so lucky?
I lean my head back so that I can look up at him, taking off my smudged glasses so that I can get a clearer view, and he wipes the mascara tracks from my cheeks with the rough pad of his thumb. His eyes glitter against the setting blaze of the sun and they are the most beautiful colour that I have ever seen. Molten. Sparkling.Mine.
I have to say the words clearly because you only have one try at saying it for the first time, so I swallow hard and take a few deep breaths before I go in. I run my hands up his neck and lock my fingers into his hair. I didn’t say it before but there’s no way anyone could stop me from saying it now. We have both waited long enough.
“Tate,” I say, all hoarse and quiet because my emotions are insane right now.
He’s smiling down at me, jerking his chin to sayyesbefore he settles his forehead down against mine again.
I clench his hair tighter as I pray for the strength to get this out right. I pull back so that I can look at his perfect face, and his eyes meet mine with patience, adoration, and trust.
“I love you.”
Those three words are all that I have the time to get out before Tate crashes his lips back down to mine and he shows me how much he loves me too.
Epilogue
One Year Later – December
