You'd Be Mine(40)

Jason walks up, dropping another log on the fire, and I watch as the orange embers drift high in lazy spirals and flicker out. Annie passes him a stick and the bag of marshmallows. It’s not nearly as fun to watch him molest his s’more. Annie shakes her head next to me.

“Holy hell, Jay. How you manage to put your shoes on the right feet mystifies me.”

He rubs at his face, then grins hugely, cheeks puffed out with marshmallows and graham cracker coating his teeth in the moonlight.

“Gross.”

“How’d you know of this place again, Diaz?” I ask, changing the subject.

His face falls, and he looks around, his eyes distant as they scan the coastline. “A friend.”

“A female friend?” Kacey asks, walking up with Fitz.

“Yeah, right,” Annie teases.

Jason winks, regaining some of his humor. He leans back, folding his hands behind his head. “You never know,” he drawls out theatrically. “Maybe you’re sitting in the very spot I lost my flower underneath the stars.”

“Ew. Tell me you’re joking.”

“All right, then. I’m joking.”

In the firelight, I watch as Kacey’s eyes narrow shrewdly. “I don’t know. I’m not sure you are kidding.”

Fitz pulls Kacey back to his chest. “Easy, girl.”

Kacey settles back and hand-feeds Fitz. They forgo the crackers altogether, and Fitz makes a show of licking Kacey’s finger clean.

Annie surges to her feet next to me, brushing at the backs of her thighs. “I’m gonna explore the beach a little bit.”

“Me, too.” The words are out before I can change my mind, and I get to my feet. Jason’s busy roasting another row of marshmallows; otherwise, based on his look of disgust at the fiddling fiddlers, he’d tag along.

Annie and I take off down the beach. Within moments, I feel the absence of our small bonfire on my exposed skin. Annie zips up her hoodie with a shiver.

“Wanna go back by the fire?” I check, hoping she doesn’t.

“Nah, I’ll get used to it in a sec. I don’t think it’s actually that cool.”

We walk in silence awhile, and Annie shakes her head suddenly. “Seriously, do you think Jason had sex with some girl on this beach?”

I shrug. “You know him better than I do. But, it’s sort of, uh, a romantic spot? I guess?”

Annie’s face is puckered in thought, and her hair dances around her features like it’s trying to fly away. “I guess. But is Jason romantic? And, I mean, band camp? That was two years ago. He was sixteen.”

A discussion of Diaz’s sex life is not exactly what I had planned on when I jumped up to follow this girl.

“That’s pretty average. I think. Sixteen.”

Annie exhales loudly.

I bump her with my shoulder. “Listen, that’s no judgment on you. I was almost eighteen myself.”

“Aren’t you eighteen now?” Annie asks quietly.

“I am.”

“So…”

“Uh-uh,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s all you’re getting from me tonight. Point is, it doesn’t really matter. Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-five, forty. Ain’t no thang.”

She grins in the moonlight, and my chest aches. It’s stupid how much I want to make this girl smile.

I cough, kicking at the sand. “Also, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You aren’t old. You’re perfect. And you’ll continue to get better the older you are, so if you chose to wait until your wedding night, your husband will be a very lucky man.”

“Wow,” she says. “That’s … probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

I lift a shoulder and continue walking. “I’m not bullshitting you. That night at the hotel? I didn’t want to stop kissing you, Annie. You know that, right? I could’ve easily kissed you right there in that hallway all night.”

Annie fans herself in that cute way that reminds me she’s been raised by her grandma. “Jesus H., Jefferson, you’re too charming for your own good.”

My head swells. “Only for you.”

She stops and looks out at the sparkling water. Then peers past me to the tiny flickering light of the bonfire. We’re quite a way from our friends by now, but I’m okay with it. Christ only knows the shit Fitz would give me hearing the words coming out of my mouth under the influence of Annie Mathers. Not that any of it’s a lie.

Hell, I mean every single word. Which, I realize, is real rich considering the open invitation Lora Bradley has to my bed.

Maybe I need to—

And Annie’s soft lips are pressed to mine. All sticky marshmallow and cream soda. Her tongue slips past my lips, and I don’t hold back my moan as I tug her body against mine. We’re all hands and heat. I don’t even bother with her sweatshirt, my fingers tracing a searing path along her hips and back to dip below the waistband of her jeans. She sighs into my mouth, and I don’t even realize I’ve lifted her clear off her feet until she wraps her legs around my hips.

I groan at the sensation of her pressed against me. A distant part of me realizes this can’t end well. I respect her waiting. I respect her …

Slowly, so painfully slow, she slips back to standing on the rocky ground. I’m panting and dizzy, and I ache.