The Problem with Forever

“It was your favorite book,” he said after a moment. “I have no idea why since it always made you cry.”


My lower lip started to tremble. “It was sad.”

“The rabbit becomes real in the end.” He laughed, but it was hoarse and thick. “I don’t know how many times I explained that to you.”

“But he was old and shabby and...” I swallowed the lump in my throat as I walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. I stared at the old cover. “All the rabbit wanted...was to be real and loved.” I said the last word as a whisper and then lifted my gaze to his again.

I’d empathized with that poor rabbit. I’d been too young to realize that, but I’d wanted to be loved and real, because I didn’t feel like either of those two things growing up in that house.

“I took it with me when I was removed from that house and I’ve... Yeah, I’ve kept it with me.”

My breath hitched. “That’s... I don’t know what to say.”

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said in a low voice. “Not one day, Mallory. That book... I don’t know, it was something that tied me to you.”

Oh my gosh. My chest squeezed, and a tremor coursed down my arm again. The book slipped from my fingers, landing on the carpet. He reached for it at the same time I did, and we both froze, bent at the waist, our faces inches apart. He got to the book before I did. We straightened, our gazes locked.

He’d kept a book I was positive he hated reading because it reminded him of me. My heart practically exploded in my chest, into a puddle of goo. Spray-painting the heart between our names had been cheesy-sweet, but this? This meant the world to me.

“After you were gone,” he said, swallowing hard as he placed the book aside, “it was all I had of you.”

My lips parted, and I didn’t even stop to think. I lurched at Rider, throwing my upper body toward him. It was awkward and possibly the most unattractive thing ever, but I didn’t care. His arms swept around me the same second I clasped mine around his neck. I didn’t say anything. There was no need. I buried my head in the space between his neck and shoulder, and he held me as I held him.

We’d been separated.

But we had never really been apart.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, but eventually the embrace changed. We ended up lying down on that neatly made bed. Rider was on his back and I was on my side, my head resting on his shoulder. There was a space between our bodies, but lying like this had my pulse jumping all over the place.

Rider was right there. I could reach out and touch him. Anywhere. And I wanted to touch him. But I kept my hands folded in the space between us, and he kept one hand on my waist and the other planted on his stomach.

The old copy of The Velveteen Rabbit rested between us.

We talked and listened to each other. I told him how I confided in Ainsley Sunday night.

“That had to be hard to do.” His thumb moved along my waist. “I’m proud of you.”

Grinning, I wiggled closer as I talked to him about Jayden and how I believed that he was finally hearing Rider and Hector. Inch by inch, I moved closer to him, which left just the book between us. His hands stayed where they were even though I wanted him to touch me.

And I didn’t want him to touch me.

That made no sense, but I had no idea what to do with...all of that. I wanted to learn, really wanted to, but I had no idea what I was doing. Lifting my chin, I watched his lips move as he spoke quietly about the time he’d gotten in trouble for tagging the school. He’d done it on a dare.

I was listening, but I was also fascinated by how his lips curled around each word. I remembered how they felt against mine. At night, when I lay in bed, it was all I thought about. Those memories made me feel hot.

I wanted to feel that again.

Was it too soon to kiss again? He hadn’t kissed me that way since Saturday. Granted, he’d only seen me in school in the last two days and he’d kissed my cheek a handful of times, but I wanted more.

He’d stopped talking and his eyes were closed.

Taking a deep breath, I shifted up, putting my weight on my elbow. His eyes fluttered open as my hair slid over my shoulders, curtaining my face.

His gaze searched my face as he lifted his hand off his stomach. His fingers hesitated at my cheek and then he tucked the hair back behind my ear.

“Mouse?” he whispered.

There was a good chance I was going to start wheezing, and how unattractive would that be? “I want...” I wetted my lips, and I saw his gaze drop. “I want to...”

A long moment stretched between us. “Do you want to kiss me?” he asked, thick lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. “Is that what you want?”

Now I wanted to bury my face into a pit of nothing. I could die, but I pushed down the wave of embarrassment. Rider had to know I had no experience in this even though I bet he had tons.

“Yes,” I gasped out in barely a whisper.

“You want that? You can have it. Whenever.” His voice was deep, rougher. “You don’t even have to ask. Ever.”