“Fuck, Wren,” I groaned, hips flexing forward as the wave started. “I’m coming.”
I expected her to pull back, but instead she took me deeper into her throat, gagging a little as I found my release. I cursed, or maybe I prayed, I couldn’t be sure because black invaded my vision and every cell in my body numbed and exploded all at once. Wren kept working, hands and mouth, until I fell to my knees in front of her, panting, completely spent.
She looked at me, lashes wet and cheeks flushed, and then she swallowed.
“Jesus Christ.”
At that she grinned, and I did, too, pulling her into me and under the water. It ran cooler now but our bodies were still heated as I cradled her against me, kissing her lips tenderly, fingers running through the wet strands of her hair. We stayed there until the water ran too cold, and then we shut it off and stayed there still.
When we finally did move, wrapping ourselves in warm towels before climbing into her bed for the night, she curled up on my chest. Her wheels were turning, but what she finally said was the last thing I expected.
“Tucker asked me to go to dinner with him tomorrow night.”
Her fingers traced circles on my chest, and a wave of possession rolled mercilessly through me. I forced a swallow, jaw tight, but through the jealousy I realized why she’d told me.
She wasn’t telling me at all, actually—she was asking. What were we? What was she to me? What did I want?
And though I wasn’t sure it was the right answer or one I was allowed to have, I rolled until I was between her thighs, biceps framing her ribs, and I kissed her.
“No.”
I barely stopped kissing her to say the word, but she pulled back, eyes big in the moonlight that had just begun to filter into her room.
“No?”
I shook my head, nose grazing hers, and then I kissed her softer. “No.”
She smiled against my lips, and it didn’t matter anymore if the answer was right or wrong, because it was the one she wanted to hear and the one I wanted to give.
Right now, that was good enough for me.
Two nights later, I stood in Davie and Yvette’s front yard with a cold Bud Light in hand. The sun had just set not even twenty minutes ago, but already we had blown through half the fireworks we all chipped in to buy together. I didn’t care though, because I hadn’t lit a single one. In fact, I hadn’t moved at all. I just stood and watched.
Specifically, I watched Wren.
It was fascinating, the way the bright whites and blues and reds lit up her face as she looked upward, laughing, constantly laughing. Her long hair had been thrown into a messy bun earlier in the day, and she didn’t have a single ounce of makeup on. Her skin was slightly darker than it had been that first day I’d seen her, but nothing about her smile had changed. If I didn’t know better, if she hadn’t let me see her scars, I’d have sworn she was the happiest girl in the world.
She was across the road in the clearing where we hosted the pig roast every year. Right now it was vacant, aside from a few sheets of plywood that had been set up to light fireworks on. It was a clear night, which we were all thankful for since it had rained that morning and into the early afternoon, and everyone was out to celebrate the biggest holiday of the summer.
Benjamin ran past me, chubby legs unsteady as Yvette jogged behind him. She threw a shrug back at me with a laugh and I just grinned, toasting her with my beer. Davie was already across the street and he swept Benjamin into his arms with a spin before setting him on his hip. Then, he pulled Yvette in for a kiss, and as a family they turned to watch Zeek and Julie light the next set.
Wren was helping, and she bent down near Zeek with a long lighter. They were jumpy, flinching back a few times before the fuse caught and laughing hysterically. When it finally sparked, they both sprinted off in separate directions, Wren off to herself on the far side of where everyone else stood. It gave me a full view of her face as the firework zipped into the sky and burst, raining down a white shower of stars over the group.
Ron sidled up to the left of me, the only announcement of his arrival marked by him spitting a lip of dip into his empty beer can. For a minute he just stood there with me, eyes on the fireworks, but then he followed my gaze to Wren.
“Good girl,” he said simply.
I nodded, watching as another bolt of white colored the sky and lit up her face. The smell of sulfur mixed with the faint traces of today’s barbecue, floating on every breeze to paint a memory so vivid I knew I’d never forget it—not for as long as I lived.
Ron spit into his can again, standing a little taller with a sniff. “Scared?”
This time a laugh cracked out of me. “Fucking petrified.”
Ron smiled, and if I hadn’t been there to see it in person I wouldn’t have believed it. But he didn’t smile like what I had said was funny, rather like he understood. It was as if he’d felt that very same notion just moments ago, but my bet was that it was actually years. My bet was that time didn’t erase a feeling like that.
“There ain’t no guarantee a girl like that will stay forever, so you just have to act like tonight’s all you got,” he said, and the grin slowly slipped from his face.
For a moment he had been here with me, but now he was somewhere else entirely. His eyes grew misty, but not a single tear fell. He gave me one last pointed look and clapped me on the shoulder once before making his way back inside the house just as Wren’s eyes caught mine.
She started walking toward me, stepping around where Julie and Zeek had bent to light the next round. Her eyes never left mine, and I finished what was left of my beer before crushing the can and tossing it in the trash bag for recycling tied to the tree next to me.
And then I started walking, too.
Ron hadn’t said much, but it was more than he’d said in years. And what was more, he’d said what I needed to hear to let go of all the fear I’d been choking on since Sarah’d left my place. I’d swallowed so much of her poison, but hearing just that simple sentence from Ron allowed me to spit the last of it out before it killed what little joy I’d found in almost a decade.
I didn’t know how long she’d stay, or what would happen when she left, but I had tonight.
And I’d take it.
Wren’s smile grew when she saw me start walking, too, and she jogged, closing the last of the distance between us and jumping straight into my arms. I didn’t care who was around, who was staring, who had something to think or say about us. I pulled her in tight, wrapped her up, and kissed her with everything I had.