Losing Hope (Hopeless #2)(63)

She likes that she just got me all flustered because she grins. “Wanna make out?” she whispers.

Oh, hell yes.

My lips are on hers before the sentence is even completely out of her mouth. I lower my hands to her waist and pull her until she’s straddling me.

Straddling me in. Her. Dress.

I keep my hands locked tight on her hips while her hands slowly make their way up my neck and into my hair. The way her chest is pressed against mine makes my head spin, and it feels like the only thing that could set it straight again is if I pull her even closer and kiss her even harder. So that’s what I do. I slide my hands away from her hips and reach behind her and pull her closer, pressing her into me so perfectly that she moans and tugs on my hair. I keep one hand on her ass, letting it flow with the rhythm of her movements while my other hand slides up her back and into her hair. I pull her mouth deeper into mine while I straighten my posture and lean forward so that my back is no longer touching the couch and my mouth is as meshed with hers as it’s gonna get. Only that just makes my head spin even worse, so we’re kissing faster now and she’s moaning louder and I’m gripping her hips again and moving her against me so perfectly that I’m pretty sure she’s about to have a repeat of what I did to her the first night we made out.

I don’t want that yet because she’s wearing this dress and it’s absolutely amazing and I’m not even taking advantage of it. I grip her shoulders and push her away from me, letting myself fall back against the couch.

We’re both gasping for breath. We’re both smiling. We’re both looking at each other like this is the best night ever because it’s only ten o’clock and we’ve got a good two hours left of this. I release her shoulders and take her face in my hands, then slowly pull her back to my mouth. I change the position of my hands to support her weight and I stand up, then lower her onto the couch. I join her, pressing one knee between her legs and the other on the couch beside her.

I’m starting to get the impression that Daniel picked out this oversized couch in the same way that girls pick out their make-out clothes. Because it’s the perfect couch for this sort of thing.

I begin to kiss down her chin, down her neck and down to the area where her dress stops and her cle**age begins. I slowly glide my hand over her dress and up the length of her body until I reach her breast. I stroke my hand over the material and she hardens beneath my fingertips.

Ohmygod I f**king love tonight.

I groan and grab her breast a little harder and she moans, arching her back, pressing more of herself against my hand. I claim her mouth with mine and continue kissing her until we have to break for air again. I press my cheek against hers.

My lips are right next to her ear.

“Sky?” I whisper.

She inhales a quick breath. “Yeah?”

I inhale a slow one. “I live you.”

She exhales. “I live you, Dean Holder.”

I exhale.

And inhale.

And exhale.

I repeat that sentence silently in my head. I live you, Dean Holder.

It’s the first time I’ve heard her say Dean.

It’s also the first time I’ve ever had my heart impaled by a word before.

I lift away from her cheek and look down at her. “Thank you.”

She smiles. “For what?”

For being alive, I think to myself.

“For being you,” I say out loud.

Her smile fades and I swear she looks right through my eyes and straight into my soul. “I’m good at being me,” she says. “Especially when I’m with you.”

I stare at her for several seconds, then I have to lower my cheek to hers again. I want to kiss her, but I keep my cheek pressed firmly against hers because I don’t want her to see the tears in my eyes.

I don’t want her to see how much it hurts to know she can be this close to me . . . and somehow not remember me.

Chapter Thirty-five-and-a-half

Dear all dead people who aren’t Les, since I’m not writing letters to Les anymore,

I’ve loved Hope since we were kids.

But tonight?

Tonight I fell in love with Sky.

Chapter Thirty-six

Les,

I know I said I wasn’t writing to you anymore. Shut up. I’m still not writing in that notebook because I don’t want to touch it, knowing that letter from you is in there. I can’t read it, so I just bought a new notebook. Problem solved. Now I need to catch you up.

I’ve been dating Sky for a month now. She still hasn’t had any recollection of me or you or all of us as kids. I keep catching myself almost slipping up, but luckily I haven’t.

Remember that guy I got arrested for beating up last year? The one who was talking shit about you? Well, his brother finally said something to me today. I’ve been waiting for him . . . or anyone, really . . . to bring it up since the day I got back to school. It would have been fine had he just confronted me, but he didn’t. He had to use Sky and Breckin and even you as a way to get back at me. He started talking shit about them to me at lunch and I swear to God, Les. I wanted to hurt him just as badly as I hurt his brother. Actually, I probably would have hurt him worse than I hurt his brother had Sky not been there.

She saw where my mind was going and she immediately pulled me out of the situation, forcing me out of the lunchroom. When we made it to my car in the parking lot I just completely broke down on her. It was like the entire past year of my life was repeatedly punching me in the gut and I just had to get it out. I told Sky everything I was feeling and for the first time since it happened . . . I admitted to myself and out loud that I was the one in the wrong. And I also admitted for the first time that you were in the wrong. I told Sky how pissed I was at you. How angry I’ve been since the second I walked in and found you lifeless in your bed. I’ve been so mad at you, Les, for so many things.