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“It wasn’t like that … I know it was wrong.” I swill a hefty gulp of the wine and return it to the tray. “I was sixteen, which I’m sure makes him sound like—”
“A predator,” he proclaims, whole body wooden.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I whisper. “He’s dead. None of it matters.”
“Tell me his name, and I’ll drop it for tonight.”
I huff, sensing that this will be a detonation in our blissful evening. “Do not say another word about it after I tell you.” He nods, so I reluctantly answer, “Easton Lancaster, Pruitt’s older brother.”
His grinding teeth tell me he remembers Pruitt well, but he keeps to his word, towing me into his lap and switching gears. “How’d you meet Ivy?”
I smile, grateful for the lighter topic, and feed him the grape I still haven’t eaten. “The first day of second grade,” I begin, relaxing into his arms, fingers skimming the cuts and grooves and cords of his muscles. “Ivy was on the swings by herself, ginger pigtails soaring behind her, staring up at the clouds in wonder. The playground was noisy and chaotic—recess politics needing sorted out before the year got underway. But she was so peaceful. I’d never seen anyone escape in the midst of such a ruckus. So, fascinated and being the bold, confident socialite that I was, I decided to introduce myself to the new girl. Beyond the simple intro forced on us that morning.”
Squirting his spicy lodge-scented bodywash onto a loofah, I allow myself to bask in that memory. It’s been a lifetime. “She didn’t notice me take the swing beside her, so eventually, I reached out and touched her arm. Her eyes brightened like she was waking up. When they landed on me, I said, ‘Nice to meet you. I’m Celeste.’ ”
He laughs, tapping my nose. “So well spoken, even then.”
“My parents put me through an etiquette boot camp as soon as I could speak,” I deadpan. It’s barely an exaggeration, so I don’t tarry there. “Anyway, Ivy scanned me for a minute before coming to some sort of resolution. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I’m Ivanna, but I’ll call you Lettie.’ I giggled. In my private-school world, even for a seven-year-old, it was an odd response. ‘Why?’ I asked.”
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away and lather up the beautiful man before me. “Her head tilted like the answer was obvious. ‘Because you don’t have to hide with me,’ she said. I didn’t understand what she meant, but I knew she was safe. That she’d always be safe.”
“Sounds like Ivy,” Liam rasps, his wet thumb sweeping over my cheekbone.
“Yeah.” I swallow, mouth growing parched as I feel him harden beneath me, but I keep talking and carry on with my sudsing task. “We were inseparable after that. Sometimes, kids would make fun of her for zoning out or blurting quirky things, although she held her own better each year. I’d get in fights, so upset that they tried to hurt her. But Ivy never cared.” My gaze floats to that dark angel of belonging, iridescent bubbles popping over it. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to fit. She’s spent hers embracing the ways she didn’t. My hero.”
He cradles my face in his hands, lips pressing into mine with a gentle kiss that feels like more in its sweetness. “What if you stopped?” he asks against my lips. “Stopped being who others expect?”
“I don’t know how,” I whisper.
“Yes, you do.” His fingers rove through the water, crawling over me with a needling tingle. “And not just with Ivy. You do it with those kids at the stables. With Ty when you allow him to call you Lettie. When you bonded with Gage over whatever fucked-up show you two were chattering about at the hospital. Somehow, you did it with Wells. Gaining his respect is not an easy feat. He doesn’t welcome people into our circle.”
He nips at my neck while simultaneously lifting me and teasing my entrance with the tip of his cock. His lips wet my ear. “And you’re doing it with me.” My body chills in the tepid water as he adds, “This is you, Celeste. So, stay.”
“What?” I gasp, both from the agony of his taunting touches and his baffling demand.
“Birth control?” he asks.
I nod eagerly. “I’ve never … without one.”
“Me neither,” he admits. “I’m clean.”
“Me too. Okay,” I agree, desperate for him to be inside me again. “Fill me up.”
“Fuck, baby girl. You want my cum?” He thrusts, our shared groans echoing with the bathroom acoustics.
“God, yes,” I moan, enthralled by the feel of him bare.
“Stay with me,” he returns, ripping through my blitzed fog. “Let’s figure this out.”
I shake my head, already succumbing to a breathless rhapsody. “I don’t know what that means.”
“It means you’re mine,” he growls, clutching me against him as he pistons his hips into me in commanding pumps. “It means no goddamn politicians. No pursuing paths that make you feel like an imposter. No putting everyone’s happiness above your own.”
I brace my hands on his shoulders and match his fervor with my own punishing bounces as the water swashes around us. “It means breaking the hearts of everyone in my family when they’ve been slaughtered enough. I won’t do that.”
“They’ll get over it.” He fists my hair with a sting, fingers clamping over my clit in the most delicious prickle, but his hazels darken with an affliction that stabs through me. “I won’t.”
“You agreed to one night.” The words tumble around us as my climax ramps.
