Page 83 of Striking Range

So I nod and let him pick me up, carrying me to the shower. He washes my body and my hair. He even goes as far as leaning me forward against his chest, his hand firmly placed on the back of my head as he digs his come out of me to prevent a stomachache.

Which, if I’m honest, does not sound like a medically accurate concern. I’m studying to be a nurse, so I think I have more knowledge on the matter—plus, I would have liked to leave it in all night just so I can think of him over and over again.

But he is trying to do a nice thing, and I am too tired to correct him.

As we’re finishing up, Everett dries me with a towel, rubbing it over my hair with a cheesy grin.

“What’s so funny?” I ask him, watching as he dries his own hair and throws the towel into the basket in the corner.

“Nothing. You’re just being so timid and cute right now.”

With an aggressive eye roll, I turn away from him and head to the bed. Only, the bed is covered in come, lotion, and whatever fluid it was that shot out of me originally.

“We need new sheets,” I observe, and Everett hums in agreement as he approaches where I stand.

“Looks like we’re sleeping on the couch again. Let’s go buy sheets tomorrow.”

“And a mattress cover,” I interject, following him into the living room.

He looks over his shoulder, smirking at me. “Yes, Sky. And a mattress cover.”

In the living room, Everett grabs me and pulls me down onto the couch with him. His warm body wraps around mine, barely managing to fit us both onto the cushions. Exhaustion hits me like a ton of bricks as my eyes get heavier and heavier.

“Good night, Evie,” I mutter, tucking my head under his chin.

He sighs, pulling me closer. “Good night, Sky.”

I know we have a lot to talk about; we have a lot to sort through. But tonight was a big deal for me in a way I never thought it would be, and I kind of want to end it on that note.

The one where I’m blissful and content; the one where Everett is looking at me like he has never been happier than he is in this very moment.

Like he might love me.

Chapter Sixteen

Everett Young

The impossible has happened.

Last night, I took Skylar’s virginity—he practically begged me to do it. He said that he would accept nothing less. And who am I to deny him? How could I possibly crush his dreams?

Holding him, hearing him, being inside of him… I have never felt anything like it. It wasn’t just a physical pleasure that coursed through me, but a mind-numbing rightness that took hold of my soul and drowned out all the doubt.

Skylar was vulnerable with me; he had me within his reach and did not strike. I know it must have taken a lot for his independent ass to do it, and somehow, that makes the surrender that much brighter.

For one single night, all of my desires were sated.

Him and me? We were finally one. I believe I now have every version of Skylar locked away inside of me.

But now the sun has risen, and all of that guilt and terror that took the backseat yesterday is in the forefront of my mind, mocking me.

There are so many questions wrapped up in this one event: what will Skylar say or do now? How will I keep this side of me away from Ash and Felicita? How do I get Skylar in my arms again?

He asked me last night if I wanted him for more than just sex, and I do. I want every version of Skylar there ever was and ever will be, all to myself.

But I’m terrified of the outcome of this want. I can’t just quit being the son of a Carmichael, and one body can only take so much abuse.

I know they aren’t the best parents; I truly do, but they’re the only ones that have ever seen promise in me. That had faith in who I’d become one day.