Heart Bones(63)

“I’ve only ever had sex in Dakota’s truck,” I say. “This will be my first time in a bed.”

Samson drags his finger down my stomach, stopping at the button on my shorts. “This will be my first time with a girl I have feelings for.”

I try to stay as stoic as him when he makes that declaration, but his words move through me so hard, I frown.

He brings his hand up to my mouth, sliding his fingers across it. “Why did that make you sad?”

I debate shaking my head to avoid answering that question, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned this summer, it’s that secrets aren’t really as valuable as I used to think they were. I go with honesty. “When you say things like that, it makes me dread when we have to say goodbye. I wasn’t expecting to end the summer with a broken heart.”

Samson tilts his head, looking at me with complete candor. “Don’t worry. Hearts don’t have bones. They can’t actually break.”

Samson rolls me onto my back and takes off his shirt, and that’s enough to appease me for about two seconds, but then my thoughts are right back to where they were before he got half naked.

He lowers himself on top of me, but before we kiss again, I say, “If there’s nothing inside a heart that can break, why does it feel like mine is going to snap in half when it’s time for me to move next month? Does your heart not feel like that?”

Samson’s eyes scroll over my face for a moment. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It does. Maybe we both grew heart bones.”

As soon as he says that, I grip the back of his neck and pull him to my mouth. I want to catch as many of those words as possible and trap them inside of me. His sentence lingers in pieces, like his words are floating around us, between us, and absorbing into me as we kiss.

He might be right. Maybe we did grow heart bones. But what if the only way of knowing you grew a heart bone is by feeling the agony caused by the break?

I try not to think about our impending goodbye, but it’s hard to experience something that feels this perfect without being acutely aware it’s about to be taken away.

Samson sits up on his knees. He fingers the button on my shorts until it pops open. He keeps his eyes on mine as he pulls down the zipper and begins to slide my shorts off me. I lift my hips and then my legs to help him get rid of them. He throws them aside and then takes a moment to soak up the sight of me. I like seeing myself through his expressions. He makes me feel prettier than I probably am.

He pulls the covers over us and lies down next to me while he removes his own shorts. It’s not uncomfortable in any way, so I have absolutely no hesitation when I remove my bra and panties. There’s a level of ease with him, like we’ve done this with each other a dozen times, but I’m filled with the anticipation of someone who has never experienced this at all.

When we’re completely naked under the covers, we face each other, both of us on our sides. Samson brings a hand to my cheek and rests it there softly. “You still seem sad.”

“I am.”

He runs his hand down my neck and over my shoulder. His eyes follow his hand, so he isn’t looking directly at me when he says, “Me, too.”

“Then why do we have to say goodbye? I can go to college and you can go to the Air Force Academy, but we can stay in touch and visit each other and—”

“We can’t, Beyah.” His eyes are back on mine when he says that, but then they flicker away and fixate on something else. “I’m not going to the Air Force. I was never going to the Air Force.”

His words and the expression on his face make my heart feel like it’s already starting to fracture. I want to ask him what he means but I’m too scared to know the truth, so the question never forms.

Samson sighs heavily and leans toward me. His grip on my arm tightens as he presses his lips to my shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut when I feel his breath against my skin. I want so much from him right now. I want his honesty, but I also want his silence and his touch and his kiss. Something tells me I can’t have all of it. It’s either this moment or the truth.

He tucks his face in the crook of my neck. “Please don’t ask me what I mean by that, because if you do, I’ll be honest with you. I can’t lie to you anymore. But I want this night with you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

His words roll over me like a wave, crashing against me with so much force, I wince. I run my hand through his hair and tilt my face until we’re looking at each other. “Will you be honest with me when we wake up tomorrow?”

Samson nods. He doesn’t even say yes out loud, but I believe him.

I believe him because he looks like he’s scared he might lose me. And he might. But he has me tonight and that’s all I really care about.

I kiss him to let him know the truth can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I just want to feel what I’ve always deserved to feel during sex—like my body is respected, and my touch has more than just a monetary value.

Samson pulls away long enough to grab a condom out of the bedside table drawer. He puts it on beneath the covers and then rolls back on top of me. He’s patient as he kisses me, waiting for just the right moment to push himself inside of me.

When it finally happens, he’s staring down at me, watching the expression on my face. I gasp, holding in all my breaths until we’re as connected as we can possibly be. He sighs shakily. Then, as he begins to pull out of me as slowly as he entered me, he rests his mouth against mine.