Page 105 of Within These County Lines

Ten years.

The words echo in my mind. Ten years since he was last held. Who am I to deny him that? I won’t let Murray get in the way of us.

“The bed looks perfect,” I say.

His whole face smiles—not just his lips but his cheeks, eyes, nose, brows, and even his ears all rise. He quickly drops his tuxedo pants and pulls off his shirt until he’s only in his briefs and socks.

I look away, forgetting to connect the dots. I obviously can’t sleep in my outfit. Slowly, I peel off my layers. When I glance back, Xander is fluffing the pillows and brushing dust off the comforter.

I haven’t seen him this bare since the first time we met, when he was tanning at the pool in his tiny yellow bathing suit. But this time his briefs fit tighter around his legs. I see more. I should have never looked away.

We slide under the cover. His muscular frame fits perfectly against mine. No adjustments needed. His hand rests on my stomach. Mine cups his shoulder. His breath slows as my heart rate quickens so fast I think I might be sick.

We stare up at the Edison lights, silent for minutes. I count them. There are three strands, each with eight bulbs.

Xander draws circles on my skin. I sense his gaze and dip my head. His finger strokes my bottom lip.

My pulse jumps again. The pressure lands like an unexpected shove. Not like a sneak attack in the cafeteria when someone pushes me over with a tray full of food. It’s a push from a friend, a nudge in the right direction when I’m standing in front of a crush beside their locker, afraid to make the first move.

My next kiss after Murray was supposed to be a boy from Tennessee. A new chapter. Not here. Not now. But I’m starting to get used to the idea of that plan changing.

“I guess I can finally leave this place now that I know the curse won’t break,” Xander says.

I stroke his arm. “Where will you go?”

“I have a list of places.” He exhales. “Will you join me? After college? Or in ten . . . twenty years when forever is left to us?”

“Of course.”

“Even if it’s somewhere crazy like the edge of the Arctic Circle?”

I smile. “If that’s where you are, then that’s where I’ll be.”

A beat of silence passes. Xander goes still.

“Are you comfortable?” I ask.

“Mm-hmm.” He nuzzles deeper into my chest. “This was the best night I’ve ever had.”

Sleep takes him in seconds. His body heavies in my arms. A soft whistle leaves his nose with each breath, a flutelike lullaby blending with the crickets, cicadas, and crackling trees. I finally let my heartbeat slow.

If there’s one thing I learned from Murray, it’s that when I don’t want to, I shouldn’t have to. But that’s what makes this situation with Xander so different. With him, I want to. I just don’t know when.

Maybe this whole thing with the Ardor Tree isn’t a curse at all.

Maybe it’s a blessing.

44

Checking in again.

It’s the subject line of the first email I receive on the morning of July 28th. My counselor wants to know the status of my letter and essay.

Somehow, the world keeps moving, even though everything feels frozen in time since my sleepover with Xander, like morning dew clinging to summer’s greenest grass.

We didn’t kiss that night, but I know he wants to. Whenever we’re together, he watches my hands and stares at my mouth, even when I’m not speaking. Sometimes I feel the phantom pressure of his finger on my lips.

He’s waiting for me to be ready.