Page 173 of Reeves

Home. This is what coming home is.

She starts to move, and I lose whatever control I had left. My hands grip her hips, guiding her movements. Faster. Harder.

"That's it. Take what you need."

She does. Her head falls back, hair spilling over her shoulders as she rides me. Every sound she makes, every shift of her body, sends me closer to the edge.

"I love watching you like this."

My voice is rough and strained. She looks down at me, eyes dark with want.

"I love it when you watch me, letting me lead you. Oh, my God, Reeves. Oh, yes?—"

The trust in those words breaks me. It's everything we never said. Everything we were too young and stupid to understand the first time.

She moves faster now, chasing her release.

"Come with me."

It's not a request. It's a demand. And I'm helpless to do anything but obey. My release tears through me at the same moment she cries out above me, both of us shaking with the force of it.

She collapses against me, and I wrap my arms around her. Hold her tight while our breathing slows. The fan continues its steady rhythm overhead.

Neither of us moves to separate.

Her breathing slows against my neck, warm puffs of air across my collarbone. I run my hand down her back, feeling the curve of her spine under my palm. She shifts slightly, our bodies still connected, settling deeper into me.

I pull out and use my t-shirt to clean her up. I pull her back to me. My hand tightens against her.

“I can't stop thinking about what you said in the living room,” she says, her voice softer now, her cheek still pressed to my chest.

Her finger drifts lower, tracing along my ribs instead of staying at my collarbone.

“About maybe moving back here.”

I don’t move, just let my hand rest against her back, feeling her breathe.

“About trying.”

She shifts slightly, her leg tightening over mine for a second before easing again.

“If we actually do this, if you're serious, there are other options.”

She stops, watching me, like she’s waiting to see what I do with that.

"Charli, there is no if. It's how. I told you this is what I want."

“It doesn’t have to be just you figuring it out. You aren't the only one who should make sacrifices to make this work.”

My hand stills against her. She lifts her head just enough to look at me, not pulling away.

“I’ve built everything in Bay St. Louis. My practice. Benjy’s routine. My parents.”

Her thumb presses between two ribs lightly, then drags down.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s the only place it can exist.”

"Are you saying you'd consider moving?"