Neither of us wanted this moment to end.
God,I’d never, ever get enough of her.
But still, her hands dropped to her sides. So did mine.
“I can feel you,” I breathed, gasping for air. “You, El.You.”
You, you, you.
Never anyone else.
She nodded, and I knew she understood.
I knew she understood, and that was all I needed right now.
“I can feel you, too, Sawyer.” Also trying to catch her breath, Ellie fell back to the other end of the couch, but the distance no longer felt quite so unbearable. “I can feel you, too.”
ten years ago
ELLIE
“Natalie.”
I was sitting between Sully’s legs, leaning against his chest while we lounged on Natalie’s bed, eating sandwiches he’d made—peanut butter, no jelly (at my request). He twirled his fingers in my hair absently as he regarded his sister, who was surrounded by biology notes from the summer course she was taking.
“Hm?”
“When I eventually convince Eleanor to marry me and we have kids, do you think they’ll have black hair or blond hair?”
Natalie looked up. “Ugh, can you not be all over my best friend for like one single minute?”
“She was my future wife way before she was ever your best friend, Natalie.”
“That makes literally no sense, Sullivan.”
“Yes it does. I saw her first.”
Natalie rolled her eyes, but I laughed.
“As cute as it is that you’re both fighting over me?—”
“Oh, baby.” He put a finger beneath my chin, tipping it back so I was staring up at him. “This isn’t fighting. If you want to see me actually?—”
“I don’t,” I interjected, trying to give him a stern look. “Not with your sister, anyway.”
“Want me to pick a fight with someone else, darling?”
“No,” I laughed again. “No fighting.”
“Fine, no fighting,” Sully agreed. “But Natalie still has to answer the question because I’m terrible at biology. I could never do those pendant squares.”
“Punnettsquares,” Natalie corrected.
“Whatever.” Sully trailed his finger down my throat, giving me shivers. But I didn’t look away from him and that lopsided grin on his face. “Just tell me our kids will look just like her.”
His gaze found mine, and then I was lost in it—in looking at what the future was like. We were young, but Sully talked like this all the time. And it never failed to introduce butterflies in my stomach.
“I will tell you whatever you want, as long as you get lost and stop interrupting our sleepover.”
