I pull her into me and kiss her.
This kiss is every word I don’t know how to say without bleeding all over them. It is my hands in her hair and her mouth opening beneath mine. For the first fucking time in my life, I do not brace for what comes after.
I just let myself have it.
She kisses me back hard.
My Skylar.
Her hands slide down my chest and grip my shirt. Mine lock around her and pull her closer until every inch of her is pressed against me and my cock reacts because apparently my body has the emotional depth of a teenager and the timing of a complete asshole.
But fuck me, she feels so good. Warm, soft, real, and mine because she chooses to be, even when I am broken, difficult, and full of a past that keeps showing up uninvited. She still chooses me anyway.
I pull my mouth from hers and kiss along her jaw.
Her breath catches. “Zane.”
“I want you,” I mutter against her throat.
“We’re on a roof.”
“I know.”
“A questionable roof.”
“I know.”
She laughs and I kiss the sound straight from her mouth because I can. Because she is here and loves me.
My hand slides down to her hip and my fingers dig in.
“I want to fuck you right now,” I say against her mouth. “Right here. On this roof. With the whole shitty world under us and your pretty little pussy wrapped around my cock.”
Her eyes darken. Fuck. I love the way she looks at me when I talk dirty. It’s that specific shift in her expression she would never admit to and I am never going to stop chasing for the rest of my life.
“Real romantic,” she whispers.
“I’m serious.”
“Then take me home to your place and be serious there, because I am not having this roof collapse on us while you’reinside me.” Her mouth curves. “Cassie will enjoy telling that story at our funeral too much.”
A laugh tears out of me as I press my forehead to hers. “Fine. Not here.”
We look up at the sky the way we did when we were eighteen.
The last orange light slips behind the hills, the blue bleeding into the dark above us. The first stars appear, faint and stubborn, the same ones that were there the first time we lay on this tin and let the world feel far enough away to survive.
I kiss the side of her head. “I love you, Sky.”
“I love you too, Zane.”
The words settle in my chest. They just sit there, honest and uncomplicated, as the truest things always are.
I look at our joined hands.
Hers smaller than mine. Stronger than anyone who has not seen her fight for herself. Mine is scarred and rough and still learning. They fit anyway.
I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss her knuckles, one by one because I have time now and I intend to use it.
