“It’s okay,” I panted, my body unwilling to wait for my mind to stop and think this through.
Then he was easing inside, and I didn’t care about anything but how good it felt to have Oliver moving over me, filling me up, rocking into my body harder and deeper every time. I raked my nails down his back and grabbed his ass, pulling him tighter against me. I moaned and sighed and cursed, hating myself for wanting him so badly, for letting him do this to me again, for knowing exactly how to make me come.
But I loved him for it too—loved the way he liked it a little rough, loved it when he got to his knees and yanked my hips onto his thighs, loved it when he rubbed his thumb over my clit while he drove his cock into me again and again and again. He groaned and growled and swore through clenched teeth. He told me he was going to come, and at the last second, he grabbed me beneath the arms and pulled me onto his lap, bringing me with him over the edge as I rode out the orgasm on his thick, throbbing cock.
“Jesus,” I gasped, clinging to Oliver just to stay upright.
“That wasn’t complicated at all.” He was out of breath too.
“No,” I agreed. “It wasn’t. But we’ve complicated our business relationship significantly.”
“We made it better, I’d say.”
I leaned back to look him in the eyes, my arms still looped around his neck. “What are we going to do?”
“About what?”
“About us.” Sighing, I took in his messy hair and handsome face, complete with the tiny scar on his chin he’d gotten when we jumped off the barn roof. “I’m scared we’re going to ruin everything.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what we do. That’s the pattern, Oliver! We get close to something good, and then we blow it up. We rush it. I’m not blaming you entirely, I do it too.”
“We’re not doing that now,” he insisted. “We were too young before. I wasn’t ready.” He tipped his forehead to mine. “But I feel something for you. No matter how much time passes, or how long I go without seeing you, it never goes away. The moment I’m with you again, it hits me”—he put a hand on his bare chest—“right here.”
A strange fear was threatening to choke me. “Oliver. No.”
“Feel this.” He grabbed my hand and put it over his heart, which I felt thumping hard and fast beneath my palm.
My throat constricted. “That’s from the sex.”
“That’s from you.”
“And what’s so different this time, huh?” I pulled my hand away. “How do I know this isn’t another Chicago, where everything seems real and perfect, but by the time the sun comes up, you’ve changed your mind? I know you.”
“And I know you. If you didn’t feel something for me, if you didn’t think what we have is too good to ignore, you’d have stayed on your side of the tent.”
“Damn you and this tent.” Sniffing again, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“This isn’t Chicago, Chloe,” he said quietly, taking my head in his hands. “I know I fucked that up. I know you’re scared. I know you have no reason to believe me when I tell you things will be different now, but all I can do is ask you for one more chance. We could be so good together, Chloe.”
“Oh, God.” I closed my eyes and he kissed me again, soft and sweet. “I’ve spent so many nights cursing you for what you did. You made me feel worthless and foolish and angry. You made me hate you.”
“I know. I hated myself.”
I looked at him again, swallowed against the lump in my throat. “But I still missed you. I still wanted you.”
His lips tipped up. “So you’ll give me another chance?”
I nodded. “But you have to promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“No games. No bullshit. You have to be honest with me.”
“I will.”
I looked him right in the eye and stripped my soul bare. “I was prepared to give you everything seven years ago. And you broke my heart.”
He nodded slowly, accepting the truth.
“But you’ve always had a piece of it,” I whispered as my throat closed up again.
“I’m never giving it back.” He crushed his lips to mine and gently tipped me backward, and we lay skin to skin, making out and whispering in the dark like the teenagers we used to be. Eventually, we slid inside his sleeping bag and held each other as we drifted off to sleep, my head on his chest.
When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in the tent. For a moment, I panicked—he left me again. Then I noticed all his stuff was still there and figured he must have gone to the bathroom or something. But when he didn’t return after a couple minutes, I threw on the first clothing I could find, stuck my flip-flops on my feet, and went outside.
The morning air was crisp and cool, the woods damp, and I went back into the tent to grab my sweatshirt before heading down to the beach. Something told me that’s where Oliver would be.
I saw him as soon as I stepped out from the trees and onto the bluff. He was sitting in the sand, facing the water with his arms draped over his knees. Zipping up my sweatshirt, against the slight chill, I made my way down the dune.
“Morning,” I said, dropping onto my knees in the sand next to him.
“Hey. What are you doing up so early?” His hair was sticking out in every direction, and he quickly tried to fix it.
I put my hands in it, messing it up again. “Don’t. I like it messy. It’s cute.”
He grinned and pulled me in front of him, settling me between his legs, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. “Sleep okay?”
“I guess. Camping is fun, but I’m not gonna lie, I prefer a nice hotel.”
He kissed my shoulder. “Same.”
I hooked my hands over his forearms. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Okay enough.”
“How long have you been down here?”
“Not too long.” He paused. “I was a little restless this morning. Thinking about a lot of things. I didn’t want to wake you.”
We were silent for a couple minutes, watching the waves roll in. “When I woke up and noticed you were gone, I got a little nervous,” I said.
“Did you think I’d abandoned you in the woods?”
“For a moment.”
He pressed his lips to the side of my head. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
I squeezed his arms. “So what will we do today?”
“I was thinking about that. I thought maybe we’d hike around the east side of the island on our way back to the docks to grab the ferry.”
“Sounds good.”
“And then,” he went on, “I think we deserve a little celebration time. Alone.”
I leaned to one side and looked back at him over my shoulder. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. When we get back to the mainland, I’m going to call my mom and tell her we’ll be one more night. Then I’m going to make reservations for us to stay somewhere a little less rustic.”
My pulse raced a little. “Really?”
“Yes. Is that okay?”
“Sure. Will your mom be upset?”