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“Cassandra,” she says with a smile as we start toward the exit, hand in hand. “And you are?”
“Edmond. Did you want to see the rest of the show? We can stay if you’d like.”
“I’ve seen it a dozen times already. I travel with the band, sell merch before the show, bartend backstage when they’re having a party, that kind of thing.” She threads her fingers through mine with an intimacy that’s…just right. “So, no, I don’t want to see the rest of the show. I want to get you alone, pick your brain, hear your life story, and make out like it’s our last night on earth. Assuming you’re any good at making out.” She shoots me a wink that is simultaneously the cutest and most seductive thing I’ve ever seen. “I’m collecting memories for when I’m old and gray and too tired to ride life like a roller coaster.”
“You’ll never be that old,” I murmur. “You’re a roller coaster person for life and I happen to excel in that particular arena. The making out one.”
“Oh, yeah?” she challenges, arching a brow. “You sound pretty sure of yourself, but in my experience beautiful boys are never the best kissers. They coast on their looks and don’t devote the necessary energy to honing their craft.”
“I’m not a boy.” I turn to her by a closed popcorn stand, wrapping my arm around her waist. “And I never coast.”
“If you say so, but—”
I silence her with a kiss, angling my lips to hers with the confidence of a man who’s been kissing beautiful women for nearly a century.
But instantly, it’s clear this kiss isn’t like any other. It’s instantly hotter—and richer, deeper—than any I can remember. Each brush of her lips against mine is a revelation. The first taste of her sweet mouth rips through me like a hurricane, and the way she presses shamelessly closer, clinging to my shoulders, makes it clear she craves this connection every bit as much as I do.
By the time I pull back, breathless and aching for more of her, all I want is to spirit her back to Nightfall and share each and every one of my secrets. Even the hard, ugly secrets. I want to promise her what’s left of my life and pray she’ll take it, take me, even though I’m far from worthy of her.
But I meant what I said—I’m not a boy. I’m a man, and a man doesn’t knowingly rip the beating heart from his lover’s chest. Some might say it’s too soon to say if my early demise would tear this woman apart, but I don’t see a kiss like that leading anywhere but to love, laughter, and despair when the happily ever after ends far too soon.
So, I will say goodbye to her tonight…no matter how much it hurts. Better a little hurt now than an apocalypse of pain down the line.
Still, I can’t help confessing, “It’s going to be hell, saying goodbye to you.”
“Nope, don’t do it,” she says, steel creeping into her expression. “Don’t ruin the beginning by dwelling on the end. This is why we meditate, Edmond, so we can stay in the moment and enjoy our damned lives. Have you meditated today?”
I smile, falling further under her spell. “No, I haven’t. I’m honestly not sure I know how. A serious oversight. Clearly.”
“Clearly,” she agrees, taking my hand again. “But don’t worry, I’ll teach you in the cab on the way to the trampoline park. I have two tickets. Moira refused to go. She says trampolines make her bladder anxious.” She grins up at me. “They don’t make your bladder anxious, do they?”
I shake my head. “Not to my knowledge, but I’ve never been on a trampoline, so…”
Her eyes widen in shock. “What? Never? Not even when you were a kid?”
“No, never,” I say. “My family wasn’t into outdoor activities, aside from horseback riding and the occasional game of croquet on holiday.”
She wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, I smelled the money on you from a mile away. Poor little rich English boy, who never learned how to play.” She clucks her tongue. “But don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to play and meditate and eat deep dish pizza without burning the roof of your mouth. Just stick with me. I’ve got you, Edmond.”
“And I’ve got you, Cassandra,” I echo, not sure what I mean by the words.
I only know they’re true. I barely know this woman, but I’m ready to sign myself into her service, join her fun army, abandon life as I’ve known it and throw my lot in with hers for however long I’m lucky enough to bask in the glow of her beautiful soul.
If I were a different man with a different backstory and future, this would be the night my life changed course, all because of a perfect girl and her irresistible kiss.
Instead, it’s a night of bittersweet wonder.
I bounce through a trampoline park, laughing at Cassandra’s stories of growing up wild and free in the Maine woods with her five sisters and scatterbrained mother, and share as much of my own history as I can without arousing suspicion. I sit with her on a blanket by the lake, pretending to meditate, but secretly watching her face, wanting to memorize every dip and curve from her chin to her forehead. I talk her out of pizza and up the elevator to my room, where I feed her gourmet chocolate from the minibar, and she promises that getting naked will only make her memories of this night better, not worse.
I’m not sure what it will do to me, only that I can’t resist the urge to touch her, kiss her, make her body come to life with mine. I’ve never touched anything as precious as the woman sighing beneath me as I curl my tongue around her nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh until she wraps her long legs around my hips and whispers, “Now. I need you, all of you.”
And I need to give her everything she asks for, from this day until my last day, but all I can offer her is one night, this night.
And I intend to make the most of it.
“Soon,” I promise as I slide down her body, kissing my way over her trembling stomach. As I get closer to her sex, I can smell how wet she is for me, and know there’s no way forward that doesn’t involve a long, lingering tribute to her pussy with my tongue.
Guiding her legs wider, I reach beneath her, gripping her bottom and lifting her off the mattress, so I can admire every slick and swollen fold between her legs.
