“You say that now,” he huffed, frowning. “This is moving too fast, and I can’t think. I don’t want this to go too far only for us … for you to regret it later.”
It’s amazing how uncomfortable a person can be with another person until they’ve gotten to know each other. If you’d asked me weeks ago if I thought I’d ever hear the brooding guy sitting next to me in class quoting Bronte, I would have said you were crazy. He’d chosen me to open up to, and now he was afraid that what he wanted to do in the future was going to push me away. Honestly, I didn’t want to let go of this feeling. I hated the idea that he was leaving, but I hated the thought of not feeling this way even more.
“We’re a lot alike, you and me,” I said. My hand came up to smooth the furrows between his brows. “Maybe we chose a bad time to do this considering what our wants for the future are, but the truth is, we’re here. Now. The later will come. You don’t need to stay.”
His hand captured mine, his fingers trailing down my arm before skipping to my waist. There, he gripped the hem of my shirt, pulling it up to expose the plain beige bra I wore beneath.
Inhaling sharply, I rose, letting him remove the shirt. The garment met his on the floor, the room’s chill hitting my bared flesh. Goosebumps dotted my skin.
“I thought—” I began.
His mouth cut off my words, his lips slanting over mine, his fingers playing with my ribs before his hand rested against my back, splayed just beneath my bra straps.
“We’re not,” he murmured against my lips.
We rolled, his chest pressing against mine, our mouths dancing. His weight should have been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. It felt safe.
After a moment, his lips pulled away. “Shit,” he muttered, his forehead falling against mine.
Inhaling sharply, he rolled us again. He landed on his side and pulled me against him, moving so that my back rested against his chest, his arm falling over my hip.
He played with the waistband on my pajama bottoms. “I start some work on the Parker farm next week. They’re building a new barn before spring gets here. It’s going to make it hard to come out in the afternoons.”
I gasped as his fingers ran along my skin. “That sounds promising.”
“I’ve been saving up for later,” he replied. “For after graduation.” He paused. “Will you be okay? With your uncle and all?”
I smiled. “I’ll be fine.”
His fingers dipped beneath my waistband, gripping the material. “I spent more time with my grandmother today than I think I’ve spent with her since I was a kid. She’s more fun than I remember.”
“She’s definitely one of a kind,” I offered.
He chuckled. “So is your uncle. You’re lucky to have him, Hawthorne.”
My heart sank, reality crashing down on me. “I am.” My breath caught, tears choking me. “I’m afraid of watching him die. I’m afraid I won’t be strong enough to let go.”
Heathcliff froze. “I don’t think you’re meant to be strong in that kind of situation. I think you’re just supposed to be there.”
“Maybe.”
Releasing my pants, he touched my bare stomach. “My grandmother told me today that the only thing she wants when her time comes is a quick good-bye, a hug, and a smile. Even if there are tears. Because she doesn’t want to be sent off with a frown.”
Smiling softly, I said, “I like your grandmother. I like her honesty.”
Heathcliff’s gentle fingers spread across my skin, his palm over my belly button. “She likes you, too. That’s saying a lot.” His hand continued to wander. “I want to come back,” he whispered against my ear. “At night when I’m done with work. Here. I can park in the fields and walk the rest of the way.”
My breath caught, my mind racing. “Won’t your family find out?”
He leaned closer. “Just tell me you want me to come, and I’ll figure out the rest.”
There was silence, our breathing loud. After learning of Uncle Gregor’s illness, the dark had become a scary, lonely place full of heartache. I’d begun dreading going to bed. I’d begun dreading being alone. He was offering to fill that void. I was taking a chance if I said yes.
“I want you to come,” fell from my lips, rushed and low.
He relaxed behind me, all of the tension leaving his body. Until that moment, until his relieved breath, I hadn’t realized how much he’d needed me to say yes.
Chapter 12
The morning brought no Heathcliff, his missing truck a stark reminder that he’d been in my house, my bed, and—I was beginning to suspect—my heart.
A hasty shower and a quick change, and I was downstairs, my hands hugging a hot mug of cream-filled coffee. Uncle Gregor joined me, his gaze on the yard beyond our kitchen window.
“Max was here early, I take it?” he asked.
The mug hid my expression as I sipped my coffee. “Looks like it.”
“Mmmm,” my uncle mumbled. He took his own sip of coffee. “Do me a favor, Hawthorne. If you’re going to let him stay, at least let him join us for supper occasionally. Don’t suppose he’s any good at checkers?”