Page 107 of Striking Range

“I know! But can’t you take that anywhere?”

“Yes, I can. But I have to register for my nursing license in the state I want to work in before I can take it. It’s locational.”

His face falls, his body slumping against his seat. “Oh. So you… So you have to stay in Florida?”

“Yes. For now, I want to work in Florida.” I watch him, his sorrow flooding into my body through the cord that connects our souls. “I’m sorry, Evie. I…”

“Wait! We can still live in Florida; let’s just move to the opposite side! Let’s head to Tallahassee!” He’s excited once more, bouncing in place as he grins at me.

Tallahassee? That wouldn’t… Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad. I could still get my license and visit home occasionally.

Making a decision like this on the fly probably isn’t the best idea, but I also know that my love for Everett runs deep, and as long as it doesn’t affect my future, I think I’d follow him anywhere.

I guess in the end, that means this isn’t much of a decision at all, is it?

Everett stares back at me, his smile twitching as the nerves settle in.

I grab his hand again. “In our forties, let’s move somewhere cold, okay? Like Maine or Washington.”

I watch as his eyes light up, and he whispers, “Is that a yes? Will you really run away with me, puppy?”

“I want to be wherever you are,” I reply, just as quietly.

And I think that might be getting to him more than saying I loved him did, because a fire ignites inside of him, turning him visibly red and antsy.

He grips me tighter, leaning over the table to say, “I want to kiss you so badly.”

I laugh, pulling my hand from his to finish my lunch. “Can I finish eating first, Romeo?”

“Alright, alright,” he concedes.

A few minutes pass, and Jenny brings us our milkshakes. We drink them, talking about nothing and everything, and simply enjoying each other.

As we move to leave, Everett pays the bill despite my protesting, and the humid December air flushes my cheeks as we walk into the parking lot.

“Should we go see a movie?” he asks me, gripping my hand in his once more.

“Boring,” I deadpan, shifting closer to his side.

“Alright. What about the beach? We could go sit at the dock for a while.”

“Okay. We get two hours, and then we’re going home to study. We still have finals tomorrow, remember?” I give him a pointed look as he turns to face me.

“Right, right. I remember.”

Everett is staring at my mouth, his eyes glazed and his own lips parted slightly. I know what he wants to do, and I attempt to prepare myself for it as he leans in.

No amount of anticipation could ever prepare me for his kisses. Sure, his mere presence calms me and puts my mind at ease, but the bliss? The pleasure? The simple joy of touching him?

It will always awe me—shaking me to my core.

He tugs on my hand, pulling me flush against him as his tongue pushes its way into my mouth. It traces my teeth, under my own tongue, and against the inside of my cheeks.

He’s memorizing me; he’s tasting as much of my mouth as he can manage.

I’m breathing desperately through my nose, gripping his sleeve with the hand not intertwined with his as I try to keep from making a single noise.

This kiss is so intense on his end that I’m not even moving. I’m doing nothing at all as he devours my mouth. His hand tangles into my hair, angling my head back to delve deeper into my mouth.