Midnight Lily(37)

She nodded, her eyes filled with something I was having a hard time interpreting. Sorrow? I inhaled a deep breath of smoky, sugary air, pulling my stick out of the fire when I realized my marshmallow was quickly blackening. She had already pulled her marshmallow from the fire and was gingerly pulling a piece off with her fingers. She put it in her mouth, but didn't appear to derive any pleasure from it. "How did he die?" she whispered after a minute.

I put the skewer and the inedible marshmallow aside, leaning my elbows on my knees and staring into the flames. Something about the jumping fire calmed me, was almost hypnotizing. "He fell. He fell to his death." I paused, still not looking at Lily, but I could feel her calming presence right beside me. "We were partying. Or . . . he was at least. They all were . . ." I grimaced, the foggy memory I'd tried to push aside spreading its spindly fingers over my brain, pushing into my flesh, causing my head to throb.

"He had been so damned unhappy in those months leading up to it." Was that right? Why did that feel wrong? I had pushed the memory away so harshly, covering it with drugs and alcohol. I needed to remember.

Oh God, getting off the pills meant I'd have to remember every bit of it. There would be no distractions . . . no physical needs to cover the emotional pain. I sighed. Lily reached out her hand and placed it on my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. You can do this.

"He fell, and I'm not sure if he meant to or not," I finally said, the words bursting forth on one long exhale of breath. The ache in my chest increased. It felt like a giant weight was sitting on top of me, and I was at risk of being crushed beneath it. "But I . . . I couldn't save him. I couldn't save him. I tried. I tried, but I couldn't. I tried to hold on, but he, he slipped away. Just slipped away." I wanted to wail with the agony that truth brought me. I wanted to raise my head to the heavens and curse a god that would allow my best friend's hand to slip from mine. I hadn't been strong enough. My head throbbed and I gripped it, moaning.

"I grew up with him. He was my best friend, my—"

"He was your hero." Lily's voice came to me as a whisper. "And you never got to tell him."

I nodded my head, the pain easing slightly. "Yes," I said. "Yes."

"Oh, Boy Scout," she said, and I heard the tears in her voice. I turned in to her and she was there, her arms open. I leaned forward and laid my head on her lap and she wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on top of mine as the tears fell for my best friend. Her clean, comforting scent enveloped me, and I felt safe. Finally. I finally felt safe. I felt loved. "I think he knew," she said softly. "I'm sure of it. And you never really lost him. He'll always be a part of you. Always."

After what seemed like hours, but in reality was probably more like ten minutes, I began to sit up, the embarrassment that I'd fallen apart in Lily's arms overwhelming. I hadn't put any more wood in the fire pit, and for a moment I stared at the low, dying fire, trying to get a grasp on my emotions. There was a certain feeling of relief at having shared some of that terrible night with Lily, but I knew there was more, skating just on the edges of my mind. I pushed it back. I wasn't strong enough to take it all at once. Wasn't strong enough . . . Lily leaned back and stood, pulling me with her. My thoughts vanished for the moment and blessed emptiness filled my head as I followed her toward the door, watching her hips sway as she walked.

She turned toward me, standing so close I had to tip my head down to look into her face. The night was gathering darkness, but the few lights that were on in the house cast a muted glow.

"Will you show me where you sleep, Boy Scout?" she asked softly. My heart picked up speed and my mouth went dry as I nodded.

"It's . . . just . . . right up the stairs," I said stupidly.

She nodded, opening the door and going inside. I followed her, trailing behind, a case of nerves suddenly assaulting me. God, I hoped she meant what I thought she meant. When we both reached the top of the stairs, she stopped and let me lead the way to the small bedroom I'd chosen at the end of the hall. I flicked on the light and for a moment Lily stood in the doorway, looking around. The room was simple, with only a queen-sized bed covered in a dark blue comforter, a wooden dresser, and a bedside table. I hadn't wanted to sleep in the master bedroom. Something about that had seemed disrespectful. That was Brandon's room. My duffle bag was on the floor by the closet.

I watched as Lily approached me, reaching for both my hands. "I want you," she said softly.

I swallowed heavily, blood rushing to my cock, causing it to swell and strain against my jeans. "Are you sure?" I asked, my voice shaky. "There's still so much—"

She put her fingers up to my lips. "Yes. In this room, tonight, where we can just be . . . us. Can we let all the rest of it go? Just for tonight? Here, just let it be you and me and nothing else. Nothing else at all." There was something so very knowing in her expression. "We deserve that, don't we?"

I was lost to her. Lost and found at the same time. How was that? "Do we?" I asked.

"Yes, I think we do."

"And you . . . you want me?" I asked, feeling awed, bewildered, grateful.

Her lips tipped up into a smile. "Is that so very hard to believe?"

"I . . . I don't know." I frowned.

She nodded. "Then let me believe for you." And she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed me. I moaned at the taste of her. Sugary marshmallow and Lily. I cupped her delicate face in my hands and tilted my head so I could taste her more deeply, tease her tongue with mine. She clutched my shoulders and blood rushed in my ears as lust spiked through my veins. I wanted her. I wanted to learn every part of her. All the kissing we'd done over the past week had served to drive me wild with want. I'd come back to the lodge night after night aching for her, yearning to hold her through the night. I was desperate now. I wanted her in a way I'd never wanted a woman before. Right here, right now, I could believe she was the only woman I'd ever touched.