Page 88 of Aviatrix

I keep my eyes closed a second longer, not ready for the moment to end.

For so long, we’ve been orbiting each other like strangers when we’ve always been so much more than that.

If this is really it, if this is all we have left, I don’t want safe. I want real.

When I open my eyes, he’s looking at me like it’s taking everything in him not to kiss me again.

We’ve never needed words. Not really. But I give them to him anyway.

“Kiss me again, Major.”

He licks his lips as my hands slip to his waist, pulling him between my legs.

“Kiss me,” I say.

This time, he doesn’t hesitate.

His mouth crashes into mine with years of unsaid words and unfinished thoughts. My legs curl around his hips as I cling to him—desperate and aching—while his hand cups my face, gentle at first, then possessive as the kiss deepens.

My fingers thread through his hair, tugging slightly, pulling him closer.

He presses in, and I feel the heat of him everywhere. His chest against mine, his fingers digging into my waist, his ruinous mouth devouring mine.

He kisses me like this is the end.

And maybe, it is.

TWENTY

IT WAS JUST A KISS

The birds chirp cheerfully in the nearby trees as Aunt Lise, Willa, and Uncle Rod line up on the front porch in the early morning fog. Eli hugs each of them, promising to keep in touch, even though we all know he won’t. He can’t.

My heart aches as Aunt Lise wipes tears from her cheeks. She reaches for me next, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Keep an eye on him for me?” she whispers.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I will.”

Her fingers linger on my arm, as if willing us to stay a little longer.

I wish we could.

But war waits for no one.

“You toss and turn in your sleep,” Willa says as she hugs me. I can tell she’s holding back an ocean of tears, trying to be strong… maybe for Aunt Lise, but mostly for Eli.

“You talk in your sleep,” I reply, squeezing her tight. She sniffles against my cheek.

“No, I don’t,” she argues weakly.

“It’s going to be okay,” I say quietly, just for her.

She presses her lips together before we part.

Uncle Rod salutes me, his blue-gray eyes brimming. “Promise not to die?”

I laugh, even though I want to cry. “I can’t make that promise.”