It’s the thought of us sharing this place together. Of me making him coffee in the morning. Of us elbowing each other out of the way, trying to brush our teeth before bed. It’s stupid, because I doubt Dax wants that right now, but it makes me smile anyway. “This is great!” I announce.
“Yeah,” he says, once we’ve stopped at the end of the tour. “So when I’m done working, I can just crash here instead of having to drive home.”
Suddenly, the idea of us living here together pops like a cartoon thought bubble over my head. “Oh. Right. It’ll be useful for that.”
He leans on the door to the outside and says, “Are you ready?”
“For what?” I raise an eyebrow and motion to the apartment. “I thought this was the best part.”
“Nah. I mean, that’s good, but it’s not the best part.”
I grin, curious to see what has him hanging on the door like he’s about to pull back the curtain on a brand new car. He does a one-two-three countdown and pushes the door with the weight of his body, opening us up to a rolling field, dotted with yellow dandelions.
I gasp. It looks just like the field outside Harding’s garage. Like the place where I fell in love with him. That’s what it is. I know that now. I love him.
Why else would I have come all the way back here?
“Okay, this is definitely the best part,” I say, breathless as he takes my hand.
A stiff breeze is blowing, and since it’s barely eight in the morning, the grass is coated with dew and there’s a chill in the air. But with his warm hand in mine, I don’t feel cold. He guides me down a slope in the hill, then takes off the flannel shirt over his t-shirt and lays it down on the grass like a blanket. When I kneel on it, he says, “When I saw this, I thought it was a sign. Do you think so?”
I nod as he sits down beside me, lying back on his elbows.
Suddenly I’m transported to four years ago, when he and I used to spend those lazy afternoons after school behind his garage, with nothing else but the warm sun on our skin and insects buzzing around us. “It was me,” he says, looking up at the lightening sky.
“Huh?” I fall to my backside and hug my knees to my chest.
“All those years ago. I was an asshole. You said you were leaving, and damn, all I wanted to do was hold you here. But everyone was saying that was where your future was and who the hell was I to deny you your future?” He lets out a long, heavy breath. “So I let you go and damned if I haven’t regretted it every day since. I even went all the way there to tell you that.”
I stiffen. “What?”
“Couple times. I wanted to tell you I made a mistake. I stood outside your dorm. Each time I chickened out.”
“You came to my dorm?” I squeak out in surprise. All this time we were in Boston, he never said he’d been there before. “Really? I kept wishing you would show up. I wanted you to, Dax.”
He tilts his head back to the sky. “I keep letting you go, and you keep coming back. And last night I got to thinking there’s a reason for it. That you’re meant to be here, with me.”
I nod, tears pricking my eyes. “I was always doing what everyone wanted me to do. Not what I wanted. Even at school, the more I kept going down that path, the more I wished I’d told my parents what I wanted, then.”
“What did you want, Katydid?” he asks softly.
I reach behind me, my fingers tangling with his. “You. I’ve always wanted you.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Well, you have me now. What are you going to do with me?”
I grin. “I’m sure I can think of something.”
He takes a hold of the silky fabric of my camisole and gently tugs me toward him. “Get up here, girl.”
“Wait,” I say.
“Yeah?” he asks, brow creasing.
“I just need to ask. That blond girl from the bar—“
He shakes his head, a crooked grin turning into a laugh. “No way, Katie. She aint my type. Not even close. I got shitfaced and went home, passed out for a while and then called you. That’s it.”
I scramble up and throw my leg over his body, straddling him. My skirt rides up, exposing the V of my red lace underwear. “Promise me that this is real?” I whisper.
He watches this intently, then presses a finger right into my slit through the fabric. I’m already wet, my body aching for him, so I squirm closer to his touch. He lets out a groan. “The realest thing I ever felt.”
I start to wiggle on top of him, feeling his erection pressing against me, sending fireworks straight up to my core. I hike up my skirt and put a finger on the strap on either hip. “I can take them off.”
“No,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding across my wet slit, making me squirm against him. I reach for his belt buckle, undoing his belt and the snap of my jeans. “I like them. Keep them on. He puts his head back and stares up at the sky. “You gonna ride me, girl?”
I nod, biting my lower lip as I unzip his fly and pull his jeans open. I think. I slide down his boxers and his cock springs free. “Condom?” I ask.
He motions to his pocket.