I helped Stella load the dishwasher after dinner, and even in the comfortable silence I felt her gaze on me.
“What?” I asked.
“You really are good for my brother,” Stella said with a casual shrug. “But I think you knew that already.”
“We’re good for each other,” I replied, rinsing off a plate in the sink before handing it to her.
“Right. I do mean it, though.”
I offered her a smile. She jerked her head in the direction of the back doors, where Brooklyn was outside on the deck. “Don’t worry, I’ll finish this.”
“Thanks. For saying what you said too.”
I made my way onto the back deck but stopped when I realized he hadn’t heard me come out. He had his back to me, his silhouette faintly illuminated by the dim glow of the lights coming through the windows of the house.
It was the smallest of things. The way the wind whipped his hair in every direction. The way he’d crack his neck every so often. Every little move he made captivated me. I was beginning to accept how deep into this I was; so deep the light barely reached me.
“Hey, you,” I said as I finally approached him.
Brooklyn turned around, and his eyes lit up.
“Hey, yourself.”
Without a word, Brooklyn wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest, resting his chin on the top of my head. My cheek brushed against the soft, threadbare material of the Clayton baseball sweatshirt he had thrown on, and I inhaled his usual fresh and clean scent that I had grown so used to. He really did smell like a rainstorm, in the best way, and I would have stayed there all night if I could.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” he mumbled into my hair.
“Of course.”
“Everything felt so okay, for once,” he said. “Ifelt okay.”
“You are okay,” I replied, reaching down and grabbing his hand, feeling him melt under my touch, as if all the icy tension was turning to water. We stood outside for a while in silence, the gentle sounds of the ocean floating through the night air.
“It’s getting kind of chilly, let’s go inside,” Brooklyn said, pulling at the sleeves of his hoodie. I nodded in response, and let him lead me through the back door and up the stairs. A warm feeling radiated through me as Brooklyn pulled me into his room, something I barely recognized as lust until he quietly shut the door behind us and studied me with dark, hungry eyes.
In a split second his lips were on mine, his touch like a spark that set off fireworks inside me. We slowly meandered across the floor of his room, refusing to separate as we stumbled to his bed. I had kissed him dozens of times, but the way his hands glided so effortlessly but still so sensually along my skin put me on another level—one that damn near separated my soul from my body.
“Nat,” he whispered softly, still so close to me I felt his lips brush against my ear.
“Yeah?”
He exhaled heavily, his breath hot on my cheek. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me this summer.”
My heart nearly burst. I smiled at him, letting my fingers gently run down his cheeks. “Don’t thank me. You’ve done so much for me too. Everything that’s been going on, it would have been really easy for me to lock myself in my room all summer, but you made sure I didn’t. Remember what you said to me when we first hung out?”
“Tell me again anyway.”
“We’re in it together.”
I wanted to stop time entirely. He kissed me again, pressing his body into mine. I was in such a haze, his scent and his touch clouding all my senses, that I barely registered the voice calling from the hall. We jerked away from each other as someone pounded on his bedroom door.
“Brooklyn,” his father called from the other side of the door. “Can you please come downstairs for a minute?”
Brooklyn let out a heavy sigh and shot me an apologetic look as he shimmied off of me and rolled off the bed. He pulled at the strings on his hoodie.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Guess I spoke too soon.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I gave him a faint smile in response. “Your dad really does mean well. I can tell.”
