In Harmony(80)

My hands dug deeper into the soft, silken thickness of her hair. I wrapped it up in my fists, careful not to pull. Like ocean tides, her mouth drew me and released. We moved in tandem, back-and-forth, opening and closing, shallower tastes and nips of our teeth, tongues tangling and exploring. The need for her grew hotter, more urgent. Finally I forced myself to slow down, kiss her deeply one last time, then break away.

We stood together, breathing hard, her hands gripping the lapels of my jacket. I was loathe to take my hands out of her hair, but I slid them down her back and let them rest on her slender waist. One more deep breath with my forehead pressed to hers, then I took a step back.

Her eyes were full of tears.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Was it too much?”

“No,” she said, with a breathy little smile. “It was perfect. And I thought I’d never have anything perfect again.”

She craned on her toes to kiss me again, soft, slow, and deep. Taking her time, indulging in the victory over her nightmares. And me, I kissed back, reveling in the sweet ecstasy of her mouth on mine. Even if every taste and touch was going to make it so much harder for us in the end.

“What are we doing?” she breathed between kisses. Her fingers were grazing through my hair and I’d never felt anything so fucking good in my life.

“I don’t know.” My mouth was on her neck, dragging kisses down her throat. “We were supposed to be professional.”

We kissed until the erection in my jeans was painful. Pressed to me, she felt it and gasped. I pulled away.

“Sorry… It’s got a mind of its own.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said. “It’s okay. It really is.”

Her face was flushed, and her lips swollen from my kisses, her chin pink from my stubble.

That’s how she should be marked, I thought. With kisses she wants, not fucking black X’s.

My desire for her twined with a need to protect her and suddenly, getting out of Harmony felt like death.

Her dreamy expression faltered then, as if she saw the conflict on my face. “No,” she said, pulling me close to her again.

“No?”

“You have to go. It’s your dream.” She spread her hands wide on my chest, skimming over my shirt. “But I keep thinking about what Martin said when we first started rehearsals. He said Hamlet and Ophelia’s story begins before the play starts. Remember?”

“I remember,” I said.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen later. I know you need to leave Harmony and I’m not going to stop you. I would never try to stop you. So maybe it’s selfish of me to want you now. Or maybe…it’s just how the story goes.”

She slipped her hands around my neck. Her touch was brave and unabashed, though I felt her heart beat fast against my chest.

“Maybe we could have this time,” she said. “Before we take the stage and perform. Before you get discovered by big-time talent agents that take you away from here. Maybe we can live in the time before the play. Live where the story begins.” She looked up at me, her blue eyes clear and bright and unwavering. “The love was there first.”

I brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. “Yeah, it was.”

Willow smiled then, and my breath caught. No girl ever looked at me the way she did just then. As if I were valuable. I kissed her again and again, wanting nothing but to hold her and keep her safe.

“God, Isaac,” she breathed when we forced ourselves apart. “This is crazy.”

“It’s life,” I said. “Off the page. But how is this going to work? If anyone sees us…”

“We’ll use codes when we text in case my dad checks my phone.”

“Codes?”

“I’ll put you in my contacts as…Ham? Hammy? No, too obvious.”

“The Dane,” I said. “Or Dane.”

“Dane.” Her face lit up. “My new friend Dane. She’s in the play. She’s constantly forgetting which scene we’re rehearsing. If we want to meet, say, at three-thirty, we text Act Three, Scene Three.”

“Perfect.”

She gave me a playful, wry look. “And if we want to say something sweet to each other, because girls like that sort of thing, y’know…”

“You don’t say?”

“If you want to do that…” She bit her lip, thinking.

“Act Two, Scene Two. A2, S2.” I pulled her close. “Remember?”

Her lips parted, and her cheeks turned pink. “Of course I do. The letter. Never doubt…”

“Never doubt, Willow.”

I kissed her again. In that moment, it seemed so easy. So perfect, I could almost forget the words were written for a tragedy.





“I must be cruel only to be kind;

Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind.”

—Act III, Scene IV





Willow



I woke up with a slant of bright, spring sunshine over my face. I lay on the floor in my blanket as usual, though I’d slept straight through with no night terrors. I’d been sleeping better for the last few weeks. Not in my bed yet, but I was getting there. I had hope.

My phone chimed a text from “Dane.” I smiled as I bundled deeper into my blankets with the phone, shutting out the rest of the world.