Say the Word(73)



I felt drunk — on love, on lust. Utterly inebriated by this ludicrous feeling of distorted perfection that was setting off fireworks within my body. Was this insatiable need to be joined as one — not only physically, but emotionally — a mere symptom of infatuation, of teenage lust? Or was it love, this fire burning in my veins, spinning me out of control until I felt so off balance I knew I’d never again be able to stand on my own?

“Look at me,” Sebastian gritted out between clenched teeth. I pulled my eyes from the ceiling and tilted my head back down to meet his gaze. “Do you feel that? Do you feel us, Lux?”

And I did — it was there in the air around us. A chemical reaction, an altered state of being, that occurs when two separate elements collide and change on a fundamental level — fusing together into a new, wholly unique compound. Their joining triggering the creation of entirely new matter: love in its most essential form.

“I feel it.” I gasped.

“This is real. We’re real.” His thrusts intensified to match the strength of his words.

I nodded, feeling my limbs begin to go languorous as pleasure overtook me completely. I rocked myself up and down against his length, his long strokes growing faster as we spiraled together toward delirium.

“You’re my girl. I’m not going to let anything happen to us. That’s a promise.”

I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his, feeling my heart flip over in my chest. I knew this feeling wasn’t the product of two new lovers exploring the wonders of a good f*ck. This was stronger, more passionate — this was what all the songs and sonnets ever written had been about.

This was making love — literally constructing it from the union of our hearts and bodies.

“I love you,” I whispered against his lips, unable to contain the words a moment longer. His eyes widened fractionally and he clutched me tighter against him, as though he were afraid I’d somehow vanish from his arms, taking those three little words with me as I went.

“I love you more.” His fervent words were a binding promise.

Afterward, I lay draped across his chest, utterly spent. My forehead rested in the crook of his neck, my breaths labored and uneven as I thought about this wonderful boy, who’d seen past my rough exterior to the girl beneath. He’d taken a chance on me. It was time to take a chance on him, to trust him, as well.

“I have to tell you something.” My words were a shaky whisper, as I tilted my head back to meet his gaze. I watched as his eyes cleared of the cloudy, thoroughly-sated look, turning serious between one blink and the next.

“Anything.” His fingertip traced my cheekbone in a light caress. I listened to the light rain falling against the metal roof, remembering our first moments together in this very car, and steeled myself with a deep breath.

“It’s Jamie.”

I felt Sebastian’s body tense beneath mine, going completely still in preparation for the words he sensed were coming but could never have prepared for.

“He’s sick,” I whispered flatly. “The cancer’s back.”

There was a moment of total silence as he absorbed the news.

“He—” Sebastian’s voice cracked. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “He’ll be fine, though. He’ll get through it again.”

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears. “I keep telling myself that. It’s just…”

“Hard.” Bash finished for me, swallowing roughly. “I know. But we’ll get through it. Together.”

“Together,” I echoed softly.

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore, Freckles.” He leaned forward to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “I’m here. And everything will be alright.”

“Aut viam inveniam aut faciam,” I breathed, so quietly barely a whisper left my lips.

“We’ll find a way, Lux. We’ll always find our way.”





***


The empty vodka bottle rattled across the floor, crashing to a noisy stop against the refrigerator. Flipping on the light with one hand, I clutched my stubbed toe in the other and attempted to massage some feeling back. I took in the state of the kitchen, cursing under my breath. My parents’ most recent party favors littered the floor like confetti. Vodka, gin, scotch — they weren’t particularly particular when it came to their alcohol. As long as it burned going down and deadened their pain for the night, that seemed to be enough of a selling point. Usually, though, they took their festivities to the local bar. That they were here meant tonight must’ve called for a special level of inebriation — the kind that even the shadiest of local watering holes frowned upon, because it too often led to drunken misconduct and bar fights.

It was late by the time Sebastian dropped me off, almost midnight. I closed my eyes and prayed they’d already passed out.

“Lux!” The slurred voice came from the small den off the kitchen. The room was dark except for the flickering, intermittent light cast on the walls by the muted television, as scenes from late-night infomercials flashed across the screen. My shoulders slumped defeatedly as I exhaled, picking my way through the discarded bottles toward the doorway.

“Mom.”

Her stringy blonde hair hung over her face, unwashed and unkempt. She’d been beautiful once, my mother. A fading pageant queen, with crowns and tiaras from every county fair and homecoming festival around. With Marilyn Monroe curves and a Grace Kelly smile, she could’ve gone to Hollywood and made it as an actress, as she’d dreamed of doing as a teenager.

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