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“Fuck, don’t you think I know that,” I growl as we bob in the angry water.
“Then stop!” She says as she swims back to shore.
I follow close behind. The first drops of rain start coming down, and I run to get my sketchbook into my bag. She’s already tugging her dress over her head. She starts toward the gate that leads to the house.
“I can’t,” I shout. Bre stops, turning toward me.
“Can’t what?” She yells.
“Lose you,” I say as I walk up to her. “It’s just not something I can do.”
“I am not yours, Denton.” She says, barely above a whisper.
“Prove it,” I whisper, placing a hand against her cheek, and she leans into it. The rain is coming down hard, but all I feel is warmth. She looks up at me with those green eyes that captured me from the first moment I gazed into them, and as wrong as it may be, I press my lips to hers. The kiss starts slow and tender, gentle flicks of tongue and grazes of teeth. I kiss her deeper, with all the longing I have felt for the longest time, and she opens up to me, shivers running through her body as I wrap my arms around her. Her hands tangle in my hair as she pulls me closer, her body pressing against mine. She places a hand on my chest and pulls away, but not far enough that I can’t reach her.
“I can’t keep pretending you’re not the one I want, Bre.”
“I- I don’t want to hurt her,” she tells me, and I can tell that tears are mixed with the raindrops on her face.
“Then we need to be honest.” And I am adamant that I will be.
“Can we wait till the summer ends? If I am going to lose my best friend, I don’t want it to be now,” she pleads.
I brush my lips against hers. “Anything you want, but I will not touch her again, Bre. I can’t do that.”
She nods and makes her way back to the house.
We’re lying on her bed and playing twenty questions. I turn to her. “You don’t get along with your father, do you?”
She looks up at the ceiling “Not particularly.”
“I must admit, I found it odd because your parents seem so…”
“Perfect.” She finishes and looks back at me. “It wasn’t always like this. My father was an alcoholic and had to go through some serious rehab. It’s how they met Amanda. She was his psychiatrist or psychologist. I don’t know which,” she lets out a breath. “He abused my mom in the worst possible way, and still she stayed. I don’t get that.”
“I’m sorry,” I link my fingers with hers.
“I guess everyone has moved on, but me. I still hear her screams of agony sometimes. And he’s still a controlling asshole. The beatings may have stopped, but he’s a piece of shit all the same.”
“Hey,” I place my hand on her cheek. “I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“It’s okay,” she assures me. “You never talk about your family. I mean, I know Jase, but that’s about it.
I stare up at the ceiling. “My father left when I was a toddler. My mom remarried, and the guy she remarried was the same as you described your father to be. Jase was lucky enough to get a scholarship and get out.”
“So are you.” Bre smiles. “I’m proud of you, Duke.”
I turn and hover over her, my lips inches from hers. She’s so beautiful when she’s nervous. Her teeth graze her bottom lip, her eyes moving from my lips to my eyes.
“We’re not supposed to do this?” She whispers.
“I know, but I miss these.” I trail my tongue along her lips.
I dip my head, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of her mouth. “You taste like heaven, but you’re my gateway to hell.” I laugh against her cheek.
“Oh, wow, Denton,” she shoves me off her, giggling. “Go away. I need to sleep.”
I kiss her cheek, and I promise myself that whatever happens, I’ll never hurt her.
