Say You Still Love Me(101)

“There’s only three weeks left.” I don’t hide the dismay from my voice.

“I know.”

I steal a kiss. “It’s so hard, not being able to do that all week.”

He steals one for himself. “Unless we risk it and sneak out at night.”

“It’s not worth it,” I remind him with a knowing gaze. Kyle needs this job.

“Anything that means I get more time with you is worth it.” He presses his body into mine.

My cheeks flush. “Wow, you’re . . . ready.”

His chuckle sends shivers down my spine. “I can’t help it. That’s what you do to me every time I see you . . . or think about you . . . or do this.” He kisses me deeply on the mouth, and I forget for a moment that we’re standing in a parking lot, with people milling around us.

I can’t wait to get back to his cabin. “Do you think Shane’s gone yet?”

“Probably.” He checks his watch. “We’ll head back as soon as Ashley and Eric are done.”

“What are they doing?”

“I don’t know about Ash, but Eric’s buying condoms. Don’t worry, we’re good for tonight.”

I struggle to hide my smile. Never did I think I’d end up with a boyfriend—let alone needing condoms—when my mother dropped me off at Wawa five weeks ago.

“But I thought you liked the ribbed ones, Freckles!” Eric hollers. We turn to see him trailing Ashley out of the convenience store, holding up a box, earning several glances from people nearby. “They’re for your pleasure!”

“That must have been Avery,” Ashley throws back, giving him the finger before storming toward us, chips and licorice in hand, her cheeks bright red.

I feel my eyebrows pop with surprise. “Did Ashley and Eric hook up?” She would have told me, wouldn’t she?

“Nope. And I’m guessing he just officially killed any chance he had. The guy has no tact. What an idiot,” he mutters, but he’s grinning. “Come on, let’s get back.”




“I think my parents are getting a divorce.” I stare up at the underside of the top bunk in Kyle’s bed, my head resting against the crook of his arm.

“Why do you think that?” Kyle asks, then shoves a handful of chips into his mouth.

“Because my dad cheated on my mom and she’s not in any rush to forgive him.”

He chews slowly. Finally, he swallows and asks, “Do you blame her?”

“No. I guess not. But she’s been at our summer house since she dropped me off here, and now she’s taking off to Paris next week. And she sounded happy on the phone today.”

“And that’s bad?” He offers me the bag of chips.

I grab a few. “Well, yeah. If she’s happier without him, then they’re going to divorce and my entire life is going to change. I’m not even sure how, exactly. I already don’t see my father much as it is.” Will I be taking turns living in their separate houses? Will we keep our house in Lennox or sell it? Oh God, what if they remarry? What kind of stepparents will I end up with?

“If it does happen, you’ll adjust and you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to have to adjust, though. Why are they doing this? Why did my father have to . . .” I don’t want to finish that sentence. Talking about my parents having sex with each other—let alone anyone else—makes me cringe.

“Were they happy?”

I consider that. “I don’t know. My dad’s never home, so . . .”

“Maybe that’s the real issue.”

I sigh. “I think you may be right.”

When I pass on more chips, Kyle tosses the bag to the floor beside us. A few chips spill out, but he doesn’t seem bothered. “When my dad went to jail, I thought my mom would divorce him right away. She keeps saying she will, that we’ll pack up and move far away from the whole mess, but . . . she hasn’t yet.”

“Where would you go, if you could?”

He drags a fingertip along my forearm. “My vote would be Lennox.”

I smile. “Good choice.”

“But she always talks about going somewhere warm, where there’s no snow.”

“That sounds far.” A pang stirs in my chest.

“Don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere.”

I stretch my neck to kiss his jawline. “For what it’s worth, try to convince her to move to Lennox. That way we won’t have to figure out these three-hour drives.” Where will we even stay on those weekends? I guess I can book a hotel for us on my card. What kind of hotels are there in Poughkeepsie?

“I’ll do my best.” He dips his head to capture my mouth with his.

“You’re salty,” I murmur, running my tongue over his lips before flicking the ring.

He groans. “I love it when you do that.”

“What . . . this?” I twirl my tongue around the ring again.

His arm tightens around my body. “Yeah, that. Your tongue on anything, actually,” he says, his voice strained, his breathing turning ragged. I can always tell when Kyle is turned on, just by those two things.

I bite my lip as I feel the flush touch my cheeks. Kyle’s hooded gaze settles on mine as I reach down to run my hand over him once before slipping it beneath the waistband of his shorts and wrapping my fingers around him.