ASH
I’m gonna text Patty. I think Parker broke Lou.
LOU
*smooches* BYE!
She looks so happy as she texts her friends. I wonder if she knows that this is the first time she’s smiled like that since we left them in South Carolina. No … this is the happiest I’ve seen her since we played in her parents’ barn. Like now, that happiness seemed to reach her soul. In those ten, fifteen minutes, she seemed lighter and freer than I’ve ever seen her.
Until now.
Is that … is it because ofme?
“My sisters and the Janes have given me the final stamp of approval. Looks like I’m good to go,” Lou says, giving herself one final look before she turns to me. “But before we head out, we need to settle something.”
“Yes?” I ask.
She bites her lip. She doesn’t look like she’s playing coy or being flirtatious; she looks nervous. Her fingers tighten around the hem of her shirt like she’s bracing herself. She stands tall and takes a deep breath.
“I don’t do flings. If that’s what you see happening here, you’re free to go out, and I’ll stay in the room.”
Her words hit like a slap.
“You think I’m here for a fling?” I ask, incredulous. And hurt. A slow ache blooms behind my ribs, and I take a slow step toward her. “You think I somehow lured you up into a honeymoon suite so I could, what, take advantage of you? You’ve never even kissed someone. The natural progression doesn’t go from first kiss to sleeping with someone. The natural progression from a first kiss is a second kiss.” I pause, letting the weight of my words settle between us. Then I lower my voice. “And that, I intend to give you.”
She watches me carefully, her expression unreadable.
“I know we haven’t known each other long,” she finally says, “but I really like this version of you.”
A muscle jumps in my jaw as something hot and raw swells in my chest.
A heavy sound rumbles in my throat. “I don’t like you sayin’ that.”
“Saying what?”
“How you don’t know me or don’t know me well or haven’t known me long. How long do you have to hear a song before it can cut you to your soul? Before it can become a part of you?”
Her lips spread into a secret smile, slow and knowing.
“Are you saying I’m a part of you?”
Yes.The word burns on my tongue, but I swallow it down, rolling my lips together like I can physically stop myself from saying it. My fingers twitch at my sides, aching to reach for her, to hold onto this moment before I ruin it.ShouldI say it? Should I let her see the weight of everything I haven’t said? How vulnerable can I let myself be before I break?
“You’ve ruined me for any other music,” I admit in a thick voice I can’t quite clear.
She exhales, soft and shaky, and lifts her chin just slightly, like she’s daring me to say more.
I reach up, dragging a slow knuckle along her jaw, and she leans—just the tiniest bit—into my touch.
“That’s the kind of compliment a girl could get used to,” she murmurs. Then her smile falters, hesitation briefly clouding the light in her eyes. “I guess I keep saying things like that because you … scare me. Since the moment I met you, I’ve tried to convince myself that I don’t need or want anything, but when I’m with you?—”
Her voice catches, and my stomach tightens.
“You what?” I ask, leaning closer, so close her breath skates against my collarbone.
She swallows. Her lips part, but she hesitates.
I slip a finger beneath her chin and tilt her face up to mine.
