Plus, the headaches were getting worse. I was sick in a way the pills had never made me sick before. I needed to get off them and regain my health before I could begin to give anything at all to another person. But in the meantime, I reveled in the wonderful, seemingly dreamy world Lily created. We walked through the forest hand in hand as she pointed out all the things I'd have missed if it was only me: the wood thrushes and butterflies, the columbine bushes, now maroon in late summer. We drank the cold, sweet stream water that flowed from the mountains above and fed each other wild strawberries.
We kissed everywhere, against trees and rocks, in wide-open fields, and at the edge of the stream, lying in the sunshine as the water gurgled and splashed next to us. She worked me into a frenzy of lust so powerful I could barely catch my breath some days. I wanted her with every cell in my body. And the way she moved her hips against mine, the way her eyes glazed over when we touched, I knew she wanted me, too. I had never known this type of physical want, even stronger than the craving I felt for the pills. It made me crazy, but it brought me hope. The numbing peace the pills brought was an illusion. Lily, Lily was real. And with her, I didn't need to be any of the titles I'd collected. I didn't need to be my mistakes or my pain. I was just . . . me, and I started to finally hope that that was okay.
But I also knew very well Lily was innocent—her tentative touches, her surprised reactions, the unabashed delight she showed each time I touched her in a way that brought pleasure, told me all I needed to know.
Maybe once I got off the pills, we could just stay in this forest until the end of time. A simple life suddenly seemed like a wistful, impossible dream. To spend days walking through the fresh air of the woods, talking about everything and nothing, and to enjoy evenings in front of a warm fire, reading, and then making love late into the night, celebrating life in the most ancient of ways. I wanted to dive into that kind of deeply beautiful simplicity, suddenly longed for it clear to my soul. It sounded like . . . freedom.
I walked to meet her at the edge of the forest a couple days after I'd first touched her under the boughs of a tree in the mist of the rain. It was a sunlit evening, and as I stepped into the dim light of the woods, she turned slowly toward the sound of my footsteps. She was wearing a pale purple dress and her brown boots. Her lips tipped up in a beautiful smile, and the whisper of a breeze picked up a lock of her hair.
Suddenly, a pale beam of sunlight shifted through the trees, casting a light across her body, seeming to make her shimmer, waver between this world and another. And my heart shimmered, too, at her awe-inspiring beauty. She was so gorgeous, I ached. A dream. A vision. No, no, real. So very real. The moment wasn't shimmering with dreaminess, but with a sudden, sharp reality. Because the emotion I felt couldn't be denied: I was in love with her. Deeply, madly, sweetly in love.
And I couldn't tell her. It wasn't fair—I was only half a man right now. So I'd keep it to myself, for now. And I knew: I had to get clean. I couldn't put it off anymore. Tonight would be our final night together until I could come to her as she deserved.
I walked to her, my body suddenly trembling at the realization, my head beginning to ache, as it seemed to have done all week.
"Hi," she breathed, wrapping her arms around me and immediately bringing her lips to mine.
I kissed her and then laughed softly when she pulled her head away.
"What?" she asked.
"I like that you can't keep your hands off me."
"How could I? Am I expected to resist a Boy Scout with high honors, one who kisses like you do? I'm only human, after all."
"True. You were a goner the minute I stepped into these woods."
"Hmm," she hummed as she wiped a bead of moisture off my bottom lip. "I know."
I cocked my head to the side. "Can you come to the lodge tonight? You haven't been inside it yet."
She bit her lip but then nodded her head. I took her hand and led her across the open grassy area to the stairs of the lodge. She looked a little nervous, but I squeezed her hand and pulled her along.
When we stepped through the door, she hesitated and looked around. When she finally moved farther inside, she placed her hand on the back of the couch, looking up at the high, beamed ceiling. I followed her gaze—remembering the speakers in the walls that I'd noticed the first week I'd arrived—and walked over to the shelf where I turned on the iPod docked there. A cover of Elvis's "Can't Help Falling in Love" filled the room, and Lily turned to me smiling. I walked back to her, suddenly feeling shy. I wiped my palms on my jeans and took her in my arms, swaying to the music. "I'm not a very good dancer," I admitted.
"This feels nice," she said, pressing closer to me. "I've never danced before."
I drew back slightly. "Never?"
She shook her head. "See, you shouldn't have told me you aren't a good dancer. I'd never have known." She grinned and my heart stuttered.
"Until you danced with someone else."