Page 46 of Licks

“And you did it?” I couldn’t hide the shock in my voice. I’d once asked August to help me buy a fake ID. Everyone did it. No biggie. He’d laced into me, saying it was stupid, not worth getting caught. He never colored outside the lines.

“And I did it.” He quit fiddling with my hair. His body became a block of cement. “I wore his preppy clothes and his glasses, and no one was the wiser. I nearly puked before the test. I did puke after. Barely slept for the next few months, sure someone would find out and I’d be expelled, lose my chance at my scholarship. Be kicked off the soccer team. I was a wreck.”

Shame winded me. “So you did this insane, massive favor for Finch.” For me, really. So his brother would watch out for me. “And Finch promised to be my shadow, knowing how you felt about me. Then…that night happened?”

“That about sums it up.”

If he weren’t holding me up, I’d sink to my haunches and bury my face in my hands. August’s requested favor explained Finch’s increased attentiveness toward the end of high school, into college. Finch would drag me out for coffee, force me to meet him at the library for study sessions. But his words to me that fateful night—I’ve wanted you so long—hadn’t been the words of a brother doing a brother a favor. Especially considering what August had done for him.

“I didn’t think I could feel worse about what went down, but this is definitely worse.” Profoundly worse. Shove me in a cell and toss away the key worse.

August spun me quickly, pulled me tight against his chest. “I didn’t tell you to guilt you, but Finch and I never recovered from that night. We speak as needed, but we’re only civil. Not because of what you did. Because my brother betrayed me. I put my future on the line for him, and he fucked me over.”

It all made sense now, how furious August had been that night. The vicious punch to Finch’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” His tone turned vehement. “Don’t apologize. I’m done playing the victim. There’s no changing the past, and I don’t want you spending these next couple days feeling badly. I forgave you. Not just with words. There’s no anger left. We’re too important. Our time together is too important.”

Our seconds. This finite slice of time. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Oh, honey. I’ll take care of you. Of us. Don’t worry. I’ll make this work.” He kissed me, sweet and slow.

Kissing was one solution. A mighty fine one. The rest was August taking charge, always trying to solve my problems. He didn’t know my life here, what I could and couldn’t do. He hadn’t even asked what I wanted to do. But his lips were addictive, coaxing mine into action. I kissed him back harder, the two of us moving against each other with such devastating need. His lips were soft yet firm. His body was all firm.

“I plan to fuck you blind tonight,” he said against my lips. “Taste every inch of you. Have you come on my tongue and fingers. You don’t even know.”

My body sure as hell knew. “I’m so wet. You make me so wet.”

“Jesus, Gwen.” His mouth was on my neck, licking and sucking. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

Not in two days he wouldn’t. But I might lose my heart.

That sobering notion had me abruptly ending our PDA. I heard a whistle, but wasn’t sure it was directed at us, not that I cared. What I did care about was not falling to pieces over this man, who had to get on an airplane in one and a half days.

I needed to feel him inside me again. I wouldn’t deny myself that. But my feelings for him were already ten-foot swells, ready to drag me under. I had to keep an emotional distance, not do stupid things like wish I wasn’t on the pill.

Following the journal’s clues was the perfect distraction. The breather I needed. Which meant facing Finch. “You still okay to come in the club with me?”

“I’m not leaving your side until I get on that plane.”

He wasn’t making my emotional armor easy to wear. “Even when I have to pee?”

“You’ve peed next to me before.”

I had. Our tenth-grade graduation had been a raucous affair. Someone had organized a field party, and I’d drunk my weight in peach schnapps. August had stood sentry while I’d squatted in the grass. He’d later held my hair back while I’d puked. The best friend a girl could have.

“Okay,” I said, tugging him toward the club.

He tugged me back. His hooded eyes drank me in, dropping to my neck. His pupils flared. “I gave you a hickey.”

I touched my feverish skin and laughed. “Are we sixteen?”

“It means you’re mine,” he replied, his voice thick.

My voice got stuck. I couldn’t be his. Not with his itinerary. Being his meant losing myself, and the last time that happened, after my WTF, I’d tripped so far down a rabbit hole, I’d gotten lost in the bramble. “When we’re inside,” I said, deflecting, “holler if you need to leave.”

He considered me a moment, stared so intently I looked away. “I’ll use our safe word,” he said.

Nothing about my feelings for him felt safe.