Time.
Time is my greatest enemy.
Doesn’t she understand that?
But then I look at her. Really look.
I see the features I notice on my face when I chance a look in the mirror. I see heartache and pain and unspoken emotion in the bags beneath her eyes. Her cheeks aren’t damp and people aren’t staring and there’s nothing out of the ordinary about us.
We’re a family having dinner.
We’re a family with problems. We’re riddled with imperfections and flaws and struggles like anyone else in the room.
We’re just buried in years worth of pent up frustration and anger and guilt over it.
She wants time.
I’ll give her time.
One more hand squeeze and we’re both settled back in our chairs.
We eat dinner in peace—in necessary silence.
Kaiden looks at me.
I don’t look back.
When we get back to the house, Kaiden pulls me away from Mama and Grandma. He grabs the blanket from the back of his car and tugs me toward Lo’s grave. I don’t protest and ask why he’s doing this. I just let his hand envelope mine until he let’s go to get the blanket situated on the ground.
It is way too cold to stay out here for long, but I somehow welcome the uncomfortable chill. We get too used to finding comfort in things we shouldn’t—accepting what is instead of questioning it. So, I hug my knees to my chest and stare at Lo’s grave.
It’s already getting dark, which means the temperature will only get colder. Since Kaiden likes to scold me for being outside, I’m sure the sycamore and grave outings won’t last once winter officially greats us. The snow will ruin our chances to escape our family, and I wonder if he’s as sad as me about it.
I don’t ask.
I sit.
I stare.
I sulk.
Closing my eyes, I rest my cheek on my knee. The warmth from my leggings soaks into my cold skin, and I wrap my arms a little tighter around my shins.
“What did she mean?” he asks, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
I open my eyes to see him watching me.
“She said you needed to get better.”
I press my lips together.
“Emery,” he all but growls.
I sigh, knowing it was only a matter of time before this happened. The sick girl can’t live dormant forever, not even in the eyes of someone who doesn’t want to see a problem.
He treats me like anyone else.
He messes with me.
He’s rude.
He’s cruel.
Oddly, I don’t want that to end.
“Does it matter?” is my reply.
His eyes narrow.
I scoot closer to him. For warmth, for comfort, for anything but the truth he seeks. “I get angry with you a lot for the stuff you do. It’s like you don’t care about hurting anybody’s feelings—Cam, Rachel, me.”
My head rests against his shoulder, which tenses for a moment before relaxing. His arm lifts and wraps around my waist, tugging me closer into him. I sigh when I feel his body heat wrap around me.
We both see our breaths.
My nose tingles and numbs.
I bite my lip before letting it loose. “I decided that it’s better than people pretending to be good though. There are a lot of fake people in the world, Kaiden Monroe. You may be a jackass, but at least you’re real.”
His chuckle fills the night air.
I tip my chin up, looking through my lashes at him. His dips to meet my eyes, and we stay like that. Close but not close enough. Distant but not distant enough.
He knows more than I want him to.
But he doesn’t know what matters.
I swallow. “Kaiden?”
“Hmm?”
I lean closer, one of my hands pressing against his toned stomach. There’s nothing soft about him. He always looks like he’s ready to pounce, to fight.
I’m not sure what to say.
I can’t ask for what I want because I’m not sure want is the right word.
I need it.
His warmth.
His distraction.
“You remember when I said pass before?” I whisper, slowly rising to my knees so our faces are at the same level.
His eyes darken.
“Can I take that back?”
His nostrils flare as his palm cups my jaw, light but fiery. The anticipation rises in the air between us, setting a fire to the chill.
“What if I’m not any good?” I whisper.
He chuckles. “Then we’ll practice.”
That’s all he says before his lips are on mine, much softer than I expect. They brush mine once, twice, a third time. He distances himself just enough to tease my lips with his breath, angling my head to the side before kissing me again.
This time harder.
Hungrier.
Needier.
I quickly figure out what to do and follow his lead, pressing my fingers into his sides and causing him to jerk. I let go and bunch his shirt in my hands, holding on while he parts my lips with his and drags the tip of his tongue along my bottom lip before his tongue tastes mine.
I gasp when his hands drag down my sides, gripping my hips tightly and then loosening up. He tastes like marinara and lemon water, and smells like the woods, and everything about the moment consumes me.
One of his hands goes to my hair.
One of mine goes to his face.
His other hand goes to the small of my back.
Mine goes to his bicep.
I’m not sure where to touch him or not, but he doesn’t let me stay in my head long enough to begin doubting my lack of experience. He presses on my lower back until he’s pushing me into his lap, positioning my legs on either side of him. My hip pops and makes me wince, but I force myself to focus solely on Kaiden. A startled noise escapes me when I sink onto him and feel something hard press against my inner thigh.
He draws back, but only to begin kissing my jaw until his lips work their way down my neck. I shiver, but not from the cold. My body is overheating as his teeth graze the skin of my neck, before suckling just above my pulse. It feels good, too good the way he nips and sucks and licks the same spot.
“K-Kaiden.” I press a hand against the back of his head, wanting him to keep going. He groans when my hips involuntarily move on his lap and his teeth bite into my flesh.
It stings, but then he licks the pain away.
His hands go to my hips, pressing down on them to get our bodies as close together as possible. He doesn’t know my hips are a trigger point of pain, but I don’t bother stopping this to tell him. I just endure the sharp feeling because there’s a new kind of heat burning between my legs, one that gets more and more intense as his nipping becomes rougher and his hands become more demanding. I can deal with this kind of pain.
I move against him, needing friction. He growls and helps me build a rhythm, sliding his body against mine as he rocks into me. His mouth works its way to the base of my beck before my scarf gets in the way.
He doesn’t move it.
He doesn’t undo my coat.
He just focuses on me.
My warmth.
My need.
My silent pleas.
Our mouths meet again, and his kisses are lighter, but just as needy as mine. My tongue dances with his, my hips becoming jerky, and suddenly I’m panting and gripping his shoulders, and leaning my forehead against his.
I almost come undone when I feel his hand reach between us and begin rubbing me over my leggings. Nobody has ever touched me there, and the added sensation feels amazing. I move against his palm until he’s pressing into me so hard I tip my head back and let the orgasm take over.