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“Yeah, actually, I think I do. Is that okay?”
“We’ll be in the kitchen. Find us when you’re done.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I made my way to the back of the house, where the downstairs bathroom was located. Inside, I found a white note propped up against one of Mrs. Bennet’s marble soap dispensers.
* * *
I didn’t know if you’d get to this point. I know it’s a lot to ask of you to be here, so thank you. Thank you for trusting me.
* * *
I can’t remember much about that night. I’d drunk so much. But everything I can remember is you. Your voice. Your gentle touch and soft skin against mine. How good it felt. You were like a bright light in the darkness. My own North Star in dark skies. And even though everything’s a little hazy, I remember being hit with this overwhelming need to make you mine, in every single way possible.
* * *
I wanted to keep up with the little rhymes, but I’m not going to lie… I never was very good at poetry. Besides, I think you know this next one.
* * *
Your next clue is where we shared our first proper kiss…
* * *
I dashed out of the bathroom, running down the stairs to the basement. Part of me wanted to find Asher there waiting for me. But I knew our story wasn’t finished. Deep down, I knew there was more to come. So when I spotted the next note laid on a cushion on the couch where we’d first made out, I snatched it up and greedily drank up the words.
* * *
Do you remember?
Do you remember how good it had felt to have my body pressed against yours? The way we kissed like we were both running out of air?
Do you remember telling me to stop?
I would never ever take advantage of you or push you to do something you didn’t want to do, but in that moment, you really tested my resolve. I wanted to drown in you, Mya. To never come up for air.
You do that to me.
Only ever you.
* * *
…do you remember what happened next?
* * *
Tears streaking down my face, I took off back upstairs, taking the stairs to the second floor. The second I stepped into Asher’s bedroom I was assaulted with memories of him. Us. Nights tangled in his sheets. Mornings wrapped in his arms.
I dried my eyes with the backs of my hands, searching for the next note; hardly surprised when I found it in the middle o
f his bed alongside a tiny velvet pouch.
* * *
Now this is where we go off course a little… but if it leads you back to me quicker, then I can live with it.
Open the pouch, Mya.
Have you opened it yet? They should all make sense but in case they don’t, here’s a little reminder.
