Page 68 of Licks

I couldn’t believe today was April 12th. A full year after we’d made our important resolutions. I could be mere hours from fulfilling mine.

“I’m really buying him one,” I said. “Imagine Cameron’s face when Emmett opens it.”

Messing with Emmett was always enjoyable, especially since he went out of his way to taunt Ainsley. She had, after all, crushed on him before we’d found out he was gay and she started dating his brother. A priceless story, one August didn’t know. I made a mental note to share it with him. My thoughts stuttered on him in the process, a skipping record that crooned: mine, mine, mine.

The brooding lines of his handsome face filled my mind, the intensity as he’d sung in the Blue-Eyed Raven, his devastating smile during our condiment war, the heat in his eyes as we’d made love.

An imagined snapshot of him followed, one of him sitting in an airplane.

My body tensed, every muscle flexing. I was standing still, not jumping or lifting weights, but I felt lightheaded. My heart hammered my breastbone. I pressed my hand to my chest.

“Gwen?” Rachel rubbed my back. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

The girls exchanged worried glances.

“This calls for a smoothie session,” Ainsley said. “We’re cutting this workout short.”

“That implies you actually worked out,” I said, fighting to breathe through my quasi panic attack.

She looped her arm around my waist and led me toward the juice bar. “I fixed my ponytail fifty times. That counts as exercise. My biceps ache.”

I snorted, her intended goal, and she squeezed my side.

Ten minutes later, we’d gathered around one of the small tables by the juice bar. Gym members walked across the hallway in front of us, the cardio room just beyond. Emmett jogged his heart out on one of the treadmills, other machines used by older and younger members following their morning routines.

This was our routine, when Rachel was in town. We’d exercise for an hour, then sip our smoothies and catch up and tease one another, but the royal blue walls seemed to vibrate, the florescent lighting too bright. I rubbed my eyes. “August leaves tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Rachel’s word dropped like a rock in my gut.

Ainsley released the straw from her mouth. “Like back to Germany leaves?”

I slumped into my chair and drew sad lines on my smoothie cup. The cool condensation dripped downward. “He has concerts booked, things he can’t change. So, yeah, he’s hopping on a plane tomorrow and flying across the world.”

Away from San Francisco. Away from me.

Ainsley cocked her head. “Has sex happened?”

My post-workout flush probably didn’t hide the heat scalding my cheeks. “Sex has definitely happened.”

“Was it good?” Ainsley dropped her voice. “I mean, there’s build-up with wanting someone that long. I’d worry about disappointment.”

It was hard to explain how both times we’d had sex had been on the floor or the ground, August and I both partly clothed, him with his jeans around his knees. The urgency to join had taken over, obliterating all other senses. Together. Faster. More. More. More. That was all that had mattered, moving with him as quickly and deeply as possible. Waiting for a bed and trading languid kisses hadn’t been an option.

And disappointment? I’d never come so easily, no manual manipulation required. Our connection had been absolute.

“It was perfect,” I said. Our perfect—a little messy and a lot wild. There were no rules for August and me, like he’d said.

Rachel dipped her head to catch my downturned eyes. “Will you do long distance?”

“I don’t know.” I hated how my voice cracked. I prided myself on surviving my mother’s indifference with my chin up. Living without a father or extended family. Being strong on my own.

Ainsley slammed her smoothie down, the green liquid sloshing. “So that’s it? He screws you and leaves, doesn’t want to bother trying?” So much for her lowered voice. “What a typical musician. Chasing women, not caring about the carnage left in his wake. If he thinks he’ll—”

“It’s not him,” I said quietly, interrupting her tirade.

“What’s not him?” She still sounded ready to shave his eyebrows.