Page 86 of Heal Me, Love Me

“I’m twenty-three and just had sex in your parents’ house whileHalo Warsplayed in the background.”

“Worth it?” I grinned.

His eyes moved over my face. “You asking for a review?”

“Maybe.”

“Five stars.” His hand moved down my back. “Would sneak around again.”

I smiled wider, then pulled out carefully and sat back on my heels. He watched me bring my fingers to my mouth, his eyesfollowing as I licked him from my skin. Then I bent over him and dragged my tongue through the mess on his stomach, tasting salt, sweat, and Keaton.

His hand found my hair before I could swallow. “Come here.”

I lifted my head, and he tugged me up until my mouth was over his. He kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine, taking the taste of himself from my mouth before pushing it back.

Once we finally cleaned up, I turned off the game, found our clothes, and climbed under the covers. He curled against me, his head resting on my chest as his fingertips traced the giant tattoo on my chest.

“What time’s your alarm?” he asked.

“Three-thirty.”

He groaned. “Fuck.”

“You don’t have to come to the airport.”

His fingers stopped moving. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m trying to make it easier.”

“I’m going, and you’re not sneaking out before I wake up.”

“I won’t.” I kissed the top of his head. “I promise.”

“Good.”

But sleep didn’t come easy.

For years, I’d thought the day I left for the Air Force was the worst day. I’d waited in the driveway longer than I needed to, hoping Keaton would come out and give me something before I left, even if it was only proof he still hated me. He never came out. Dad backed out of the driveway, and, through the window, I saw Keaton standing in the bedroom across from mine, watching me leave without waving or moving from the glass.

Tomorrow, I’d have to walk into an airport with his hand in mine and be the one to let go.

Usually, when I had to face something I didn’t know how to survive, I turned everything into steps. Wake up, get dressed,load the car, check the bag, board the plane. That was how I knew how to survive hard things, by breaking them down until they stopped looking like feelings and started looking like orders.

But as I lay there, with Keaton’s breaths warming my skin, and his hand wrapped around my wrist even after he finally drifted off, I had no steps to distract me.

So I stayed awake and held him.

And I let it hurt.

15

Keaton

Rowan’s alarmwent off way too early.

I made a noise against his chest and reached across him, blindly patting the mattress, then his ribs, then the empty space beside him, searching for his damn phone. “Kill it,” I grumbled.

He stretched toward the nightstand and silenced it. The room fell quiet again, but there was no pretending we could go back to sleep. For a few minutes, we lay together under the covers, my leg thrown over his, my hand wrapped around his wrist, as I tried to soak in every last second of us together. And even though he’d promised he wouldn’t sneak out, my fingers stayed locked around him.