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I walk straight into the water, boots and all. ‘Are you coming in?’
He hesitates, and I understand why, but then his need to feel good for a few minutes must win, because now he’s coming towards me too. His eyes are heavy with exhaustion and resignation. His eyes are heavy on me. Any so-called progress we’ve made over the past two weeks is about to be undone.
Hunter knows it. I know it.
He wades into the creek, his cargos taking on water until he’s submerged to the waist. The closer he gets to me the shallower my breathing becomes. Then he’s reaching for me, dragging me to him, lifting me. I’ve missed these hands so much. He guides my legs around him so we’re as close as we can physically be. But it’s still not close enough.
I peel my T-shirt off and throw it onto the creek bank. Then I do something I’ve not done before—I take off my bra. Yes, he’s touched my breasts, many times, but I’ve never been this exposed to him before.
He drops his gaze, unashamedly taking in the sight.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he says.
I’ve never really heard tender words from his mouth, and the emotion it conjures catches me off guard. He lowers us into the icy water so only the tops of our shoulders are visible. I shudder as he draws me closer, and now we’re skin to skin, and it feels so good and so right.
He kisses me, and I kiss him back.
Then we’re really kissing—more than kissing. We’re inhaling each other’s pain and loneliness, cleansing ourselves. The heat we’re generating is blurring the line before me. Suddenly there are no rules, only him.
He’s touching me through my pants, and I’m impatient to be rid of them. As we’re tugging wet clothes off one another, I know I’ll want to keep going, because I want more of him. I want him without restrictions.
We’re falling all over the place. Then we’re laughing, and it feels so good to laugh with him again.
Finally, he tosses my jeans triumphantly aside.
‘Your turn,’ I say.
He gathers me in his arms, smile gone. ‘Where’s the line, Wilson?’
‘Gone,’ I whisper.
He pushes hair back from my face, eyes searching mine, then buries his face in my neck. ‘Annie.’ He slides his hand up my thigh and tugs down my underwear. The cold temperature of the water is a delicious contrast to the heat building inside me. He kisses along my collarbone, and it feels like his mouth is everywhere at once. My eyes sink shut as he—
‘Annie!’
I gasp violently when my mother’s voice rings out around me and drop low in the water. Hunter releases his grip on me, and I stagger off him in the least graceful way possible.
Mum’s mouth hangs open, her eyes filled with horror. Horror. Like she just discovered me feasting on a child.
‘Oh my goodness,’ she breathes out before clapping a hand over her mouth.
Hunter stands, thankfully still wearing pants. ‘I told her to come in. She didn’t want to.’
I can’t think while naked in front of her. ‘My T-shirt,’ I manage to say, sounding small and pathetic.
He rushes to retrieve it, turning it the right way out before handing it to me. He passes my bra to me underwater, but it’s pointless because my mum already knows I’m not wearing it.
‘Get out of there,’ Mum says, her voice shaking. ‘Right now.’
I’m struggling to get my T-shirt on. Hunter moves to help me, but I shake my head.
He looks back at Mum. ‘This is on me.’
‘Stop,’ I tell him. ‘It won’t make any difference.’ I finally have my T-shirt on, but I still have to get out and collect the rest of my things. Where are my socks? I don’t care.
This is like the walk of shame I’ve heard mentioned in movies, but I’m fairly sure this particular walk tops anything Hollywood can dream up. Firstly, the audience is my Jehovah’s Witness mother. Secondly, my undies are see-through, and my T-shirt is clinging to my naked form like translucent skin. Everything’s on display right now. My body, my sins, my shame.
I pick up my pants and empty the water from my boots. My feet squelch in the mud as I walk towards her. She doesn’t look at me but waits for me to pass by. Perhaps she doesn’t trust me to follow her.
‘You stay away from her!’ she hisses at Hunter.
I turn. ‘Mum, stop. This is my mistake, not his.’
‘Get inside the house!’ Her voice cracks with emotion as she yells at me.
My face collapses as I turn away, and I start to cry.
