Page 101 of The Last Special Thing

She pressed her palm against the cold window to steady herself as they moved together. Even after they were done, they kissed until they were breathless. When they disconnected, and Amelia was back in her seat, Art reached down and handed her the panties.

“Next time, skip these altogether.” He grinned devilishly, but there wouldn’t be a next time.

The heat was now replaced with guilt. It changed nothing. The sex wasn’t what was wrong with them. It had never been. Just the same, it wasn’t enough to fix everything else. She pushed the shame away. There would be plenty of time to feel it after she had broken up with him.

She pulled her underwear up, then started the ignition. Her eyes were trained on the road as she navigated toward the apartment.

“You know I love you, right?” There was a nervousness to his tone that hadn’t existed minutes ago when he was inside of her.

“Yes.” She turned at the stop sign.

“No matter what happens, I need you to know I love you.”

She glanced at him. “We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

He closed his lips in submission and nodded.

She parallel parked a block from the apartment. “I’ll meet you inside, okay?” she asked.

He hesitated.

She gave a practiced smile. “Have to freshen up.”

He kissed her forehead, then walked toward the apartment, gripping the bottle of vodka.

It was the sweet kiss that played with her heart. She could chalk up the last-minute rendezvous to the undeniable chemistry. But it was the way his lips pressed against her temple, asking nothing in return, that unleashed the butterflies in her stomach. Those butterflies were harder to kill.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Top 40 music overflowed from the apartment into the complex, reminiscent of the Fourth of July party. Inside, red and gold streamers hung from the ceiling, and balloons littered the floor. Jake, the Honey Cat singer, was upside down doing a keg stand in the kitchen, with Max holding his legs. When Max helped him upright, Jake raised his fists triumphantly, and people around clapped and cheered.

She surveyed the apartment for Art or Madisson, but the place was packed. There were classmates she hadn’t seen since graduation in June, neighbors in the complex she recognized but hadn’t spoken to, and people she couldn’t place at all.

“Hey girl, I heard L.A. was a blast!” Reyna said, wrapping Amelia in a hug and tilting her in her arms.

“Yeah,” Amelia said quizzically, releasing her. Madisson must not have told her about how things ended. But that was Madisson, putting their friendship above any drama. “Are you excited for school?”

“So excited!” The smell of tequila wafted from Reyna’s lips.

“I’m excited for you.” She was glad Madisson had a friend at school.

Popping over to them, Madisson squealed, “You’re here!” and wrapped Amelia in a hug.

“Sorry, I didn’t help decorate.” Amelia eyed the banners with Reyna and Madisson’s names coated in glitter.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have wanted you here with him anyway,” Madisson said as she laughed low.

Reyna blinked a couple of times, then gave a lazy smile. “I think I’m going to sit down.”

“Let me know if you need anything.” Madisson squeezed Reyna’s hand. Reyna nodded and headed for the couch.

“I’m going to break up with him tonight,” Amelia said in a hushed voice.

“That’s the right thing to do,” Madisson whispered back. “In the meantime, have a drink with me? We have Madisson Mojitios!”

“I’ll take six,” Amelia joked.

They made their way through the throngs of guests into an empty corner of the kitchen. Madisson’s version of the mojito lacked the mint leaf and was scooped from a punch bowl, but Amelia would have taken anything— a little something to take the edge off before her impending conversation.