Текст книги "Back to You "

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

He pursed his lips, thinking of a way to explain it. “Well, sometimes if something is really important to you, it gets stuck in your body,” he said, poking her ribs and making her laugh. “So even if your mind thinks that it’s gone, it’s still in there, kind of hiding inside of you, just waiting for you to remember. It never goes away.”

Lauren stared at him.

She knew he was talking about her flip, but his words a"> shoulderhit much deeper than that.

He was smiling down at Erin, but when he looked up and saw her expression, his smile fell, his face turning serious.

For a second, they just stared at each other, and Lauren found that she was struggling to keep her breathing even.

“What else can we do?” Erin asked excitedly, gripping Lauren’s hand, and she pulled her gaze from his, looking down at Erin.

“Um,” she said, blinking quickly.

She could still feel his eyes on her.

Lauren swallowed hard and lifted her eyes, scanning the gym for a second, and then she saw it.

The corner of her mouth lifted in a smile. “I have an idea. Come with me,” she said, pulling Erin toward the back corner of the gym.

They walked across the mats and up the padded incline that dropped off suddenly into an enormous pit of colorful foam blocks. Lauren remembered this being one of her favorite exercises when she just started out.

Michael walked up the incline behind them, and she glanced over at him. He smiled at her, but his eyes were uneasy. Cautious, even.

And there he was; she could see him clearly in the expression on Michael’s face. The abandoned little boy.

This time she couldn’t help it.

She walked the few steps over to him, wrapping both arms around his waist as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Instantly she felt the tension drain from his body as he exhaled, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

“Are those blocks?” Erin asked. “Is this a pool? Why are there blocks in the pool? Are we gonna swim in here? Daddy! Let Miss Lauren go so she can swim with me!”

Michael laughed softly, planting a kiss on the top of Lauren’s head before he released her. “I was given strict orders not to steal you away from her tonight,” he said. “I’m breaking the rules right now.”

Lauren laughed. “I think we have to let the birthday girl call the shots tonight,” she said before she unwrapped her arms from around his waist.

She looked up at him and he smiled, tucking a lock of hair that had fallen free from her ponytail behind her ear at the same time that two tiny hands clasped hers.

“Let’s swim, Miss Lauren!” Erin said, tugging her away from Michael.

He took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender, and Lauren couldn’t help but laugh before she turned toward Erin. “It’s not a pool, sweetheart. It’s something called a foam pit. You want to do something cool?”

Erin smiled broadly as she nodded, and Lauren walked her to the edge of the incline. “Okay, turn around and face Daddy. Put your back to the pit.”

As Erin did what she was told, Lauren knelt beside her, putting one hand on her lower back and the other behind her knees. “Okay, on the count of three, I want you to jump as high as you can. Ready?”

“Ready!”

“Here we go. One…two…three!”

As Erin jumped, Lauren supported her lower back as her other hand flipped Erin’s legs up over her head, sending her off the platform in a backflip. She sailed into the foam pit, bouncing into the multicolored cushions.

Erin squealed with hysterical laughter. “Again!” she called from the pit. “Do it to me again, Miss Lauren!” { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: ing to ry

Lauren laughed. “Okay, get over to that ladder and climb out. Come back around.”

Michael approached the edge of the incline, looking into the pit beside Lauren. They watched Erin struggle through the large foam blocks, stumbling and giggling.

“So what do you think? You want to try taking lessons again?” Lauren asked as she bumped him with her shoulder.

“Nah. You can’t improve upon perfection,” he said, brushing his fingers over the top of his shoulder.

Lauren pursed her lips to hide her smile. “Come on. Give it a shot. At least this time you’ll land in the foam instead of on your ass.”

Before she could even process what had happened, Michael whirled and scooped her up bridal style, causing her to gasp.

He spun once and tossed her over the side and into the foam pit, and she flailed sloppily, her squealing laughter rivaling Erin’s as she bounced into the foam.

She looked up to see Michael standing at the edge of the incline, looking down at her. “Well, that wasn’t very graceful. And you call yourself a gymnast?”

She picked up one of the foam blocks and threw it at him, but he sidestepped it easily. Then he took a step back and did one of the worst cartwheels Lauren had ever seen off the edge of the incline, his legs splayed apart and bent like broken hangers.

When he plopped into the cushions next to her, she was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

“See?” he said, somewhat winded. “Perfection.”

“Hey!” a little voice called.

They both whipped their heads up to see Erin standing at the edge of the incline above them, hands on her hips, her expression stern.

“Sorry! We’re coming!” Lauren called up before she turned to Michael. “Stop distracting me. You’re getting me in trouble,” she scolded, and she could hear his laughter behind her as she made her way toward the ladder.

They spent the next hour playing in the foam pit and practicing cartwheels. When it was time to leave, Michael knelt in front of Erin, helping her on with her coat.

“So what do you think? Do you want to do this? You can take classes here.”

“Yes, please. Can Miss Lauren be my teacher?”

“Well, you’ll have a different teacher,” Lauren said. “But I’ll come here and practice with you some days if you want.”

“Okay!” Erin exclaimed, stepping into her shoes.

As they exited the lobby, Michael grabbed a pamphlet with class information and folded it into his jacket.

Once outside, he turned toward Lauren, stuffing both hands in his pockets. “So…”

“Can we get hotdogs, Daddy?” Erin asked, pointing to a vendor on the corner. “I’m hungry.”

Michael glanced at his watch before looking at Lauren. “We didn’t eat dinner yet. I didn’t think filling her up with food and then bringing her here to turn upside down was the best order of operations.”

Lauren laughed. “Probably a good call.”

“You want to grab a bite with us?”

“Sure.”

Michael smiled as he reached down to take Erin’s hand. “Okay, birthday hotdogs it is.”

They walk { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: a"> shouldered down the street toward the vendor, and Lauren zipped her jacket all the way up to her chin, crossing her arms in front of herself against the cold.

By the time they ordered their hotdogs, Lauren’s teeth were chattering. She could barely uncross her arms long enough to reach for the hotdog Michael handed her.

She looked down at Erin, standing next to her father, taking small, unhurried bites of her hotdog, and then back up to Michael, whose casual posture mirrored his daughter’s. His jacket wasn’t even zippered.

“My God, aren’t you freezing?” Lauren said through her tight jaw, curling her hands around the warmth of the bun.

Michael smiled. “I work outside, remember? I’m kind of immune to it.”

“Right,” Lauren said, a shudder ripping through her shoulders as she took a bite of her hotdog.

She heard Michael laugh, and then suddenly he was behind her, wrapping his arms around the front of her body.

For the slightest second, Lauren felt herself hesitate. But his body was shielding her from the cold wind, his chest broad and comfortable behind her, and when he began rubbing his hands up and down her arms, she lost the battle.

She dropped her head back onto his shoulder, pressing herself farther back against his chest.

Damn muscle memory.

“Better?” he asked softly, and she nodded.

“Much.”

He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, holding her against him while he ate his hotdog with the other, and Lauren allowed herself to be enveloped by him as Erin skipped around them, singing to herself while she finished her dinner.

Eventually, Michael released her to throw his napkin in the trash can, and she immediately mourned the loss of his warmth behind her.

“Okay baby,” he said, glancing down at his watch again. “We have to get home and get you in the tub. Say thank you to Lauren.”

“Hold on,” Lauren said. “I have her present in the car.”

“I get a present?” Erin asked excitedly. “I thought my present was the flips!”

“Well, there’s a little something else.”

“Daddy, can I go get my present? Please?”

Michael was looking at Lauren. “You know you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I wanted to. Is it okay?” She realized too late that maybe she should have run it by Michael first.

He smiled as Erin grabbed his hand and started towing him toward Lauren. “Yes, it’s okay. Where are you parked?”

“Right at the end of the street,” she said, starting to walk in the direction she indicated, and she felt Erin take one of her hands. She looked down at Erin, walking in between her and Michael with one of their hands clasped in each of hers, and then she looked up at Michael.

He was smiling down at his daughter with the same level of adoration that Erin had looked at him with earlier, and Lauren swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

When they reached her car, Lauren started it and blasted the heat before pulling Erin’s present out of the backseat and shutting the door.

She walked around the front of the car to where Erin was standing on the sidewalk and handed her the pink bag with purple and silver ribbon curling from the handle.

“I believe y@. ck you toou said you needed one of these. Every princess should have one,” she added with a wink.

Erin reached in and pulled out the crown, a silver, sparkling tiara complete with purple and pink jewels.

She gasped and looked up at Lauren before she threw her little body forward, wrapping her arms around Lauren’s neck with a strength Lauren didn’t think a four-year-old was capable of.

Lauren smiled, hugging her back, and as soon as she released her, Erin put the crown on her head. “Daddy, can I wear this in the bath?”

Michael laughed. “We’ll see.” He turned to Lauren. “Thank you for that. For everything. Really.”

“You’re welcome,” Lauren said as she stood. When he held his arms out to her, she didn’t hesitate stepping into them this time. Her arms came up around his neck, and he slid his around her waist, holding her securely against his body.

Michael’s hand came to her head, stroking down the back of her hair, and she closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. His familiar scent filled her nose, and without thinking, she turned her head slightly, nuzzling into the side of his neck.

She felt his breath catch before he tightened his hold on her, turning his face into her hair.

Butterflies exploded in her stomach, and the surface of her skin began tingling.

She could feel the heat of his breath shivering along the side of her neck with every exhale, and she slid her arms down from around his shoulders, knowing she needed to end the contact. But even as her mind sent the warning, she fisted her hands in the front of his jacket, refusing to let him go.

He turned his head a little further, and Lauren felt the fullness of his lips brush against the shell of her ear. Her heart felt like it was going to crash through her chest, and she tightened her fists in his jacket as she warred with herself over what she wanted to do and what she needed to do.

She turned her face away from his neck, taking a deep breath of cold, unscented air, and it was just enough to clear her head.

Lauren released his jacket and took a step back, breaking his hold on her. “Good night, Michael,” she said.

And before he could even respond, she was walking around the back of her car. “Good night, Erin,” she called.

“Good night, Miss Lauren. I love my crown,” she said, holding it on her head with both hands while she spun in a circle, and Lauren smiled as she slid in the car and shut the door.

She drove off without looking back.

She could not allow herself to look back.

Her heart was still racing, and the faint tingling continued to dance over her skin.

Tonight had been about Erin. Tonight, she wanted to make Erin happy. All her focus had gone into that, and not so much into watching her interactions with Michael. Too many times tonight, the line had gotten blurred.

But the scariest thing was, she hadn’t cared enough to pull back.

She needed to submerge herself in something that would occupy her mind, something that would prevent her from thinking too closely about what had just happened.

She had a case study coming up in one of her classes. It wasn’t due for several weeks, but as she drove home, she began planning how to start it. Lauren knew from experience that the tedious research would be just what she needed to lose herself for a little while.

As soon as she walked through the door, she powered up her lapt@es"> shoulderop and made herself a cup of tea. Then she sat on her bed with her laptop beside her and a textbook sprawled over her thighs, burying herself in her work.

About an hour into her research, the soft chime of a bell sounded from the computer, notifying her she had a new e-mail message.

She pulled her eyes from the textbook and leaned over, clicking on her mail icon, and her heart leapt into her throat when she saw it was from Michael.

Lauren knew opening the message would be unwise, not to mention counterproductive, but she clicked on it anyway.

Lauren,

Thank you again for tonight. And just so you know, Erin did wear the crown in the tub. In fact, as I type this, it’s lying on the pillow next to her head as she’s sleeping. Figured you’d get a kick out of that. I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for her. And for me. You’re still the same in the best ways, but you’re different in the best ways too, if that makes sense. Anyway, I attached a song to this message. It makes me think of you. Actually, it makes me think of us.

Lauren stopped reading and glanced at the attachment. She could only see that it was by Coldplay before she quickly closed out of the message.

And then she fell back onto her bed and covered her face with both hands.

She couldn’t finish reading that e-mail. And she definitely couldn’t listen to whatever song he’d sent. She was on the verge of doing something stupid. Something she absolutely could not allow herself to do.

She could feel the inclination building. Like a caged animal clawing at her insides, fighting to get out.

Lauren took a deep breath and did the only thing she knew could prevent that from happening; she allowed her mind to go back to the place she’d been avoiding since she was eighteen.

.

August 2003

Lauren didn’t like his room like this. It made everything seem too final. Too real.

She sat on Michael’s bed, looking around at the bare walls, at the clutter of boxes scattered around his floor, at his half-empty closet.

She’d had the entire summer to come to terms with the fact that he was leaving. After all, that’s what people did when they graduated; they went off to college.

Except he wasn’t going off to college. He was moving to New York. His friend Jay’s cousin lived out there, about a half hour north of New York City, and he’d offered both of them a place to stay until they decided what they wanted to do with themselves after graduating.

Maybe that was what made it so difficult to accept. The uncertainty of it all. The fact that he didn’t have a plan. Or maybe it was the fact that he was leaving without a reason. He wasn’t going to school. He wasn’t offered a job. He had nothing out there to call his own. So why did he have to go? Why couldn’t he decide what he wanted to do with his life right here? Why couldn’t he figure it all out in the house that was a mere seven minutes away from Lauren’s, where she could still see him whenever she wanted?

Lauren chewed her lip as she picked at her nail polish. She knew that was an incredibly selfish way of looking at it { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: gsi

She glanced up at him. He was still looking down at the picture she’d just given him, the one she took of them at his graduation a few weeks earlier. There was something behind his eyes that made her feel sad, even though his lips were curved into a smile.

“Thanks Red,” he said, holding up the picture before he turned and placed it between two folded articles of clothing in the box in front of him.

Lauren shrugged. “Something to remember me by.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Don’t get dramatic,” he said with a laugh, tossing a crumpled T-shirt at her.

She tried to smile as she dodged it, but it was forced. There was an ache in her chest that fluttered every time she looked at him.

Michael reached into his closet, pulling a handful of shirts off their hangers and dropping them on the dresser in front of him, and then he began folding them and putting them in the box by his feet.

“So…what are you gonna do out there?” Lauren asked.

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll work. Maybe I’ll go to school. Maybe I’ll make it as a gigolo.”

Lauren laughed and threw the T-shirt back at him, and it landed over the back of his head. He reached up and pulled it off, casting a smile over his shoulder before he tossed it to the pile on his dresser.

“Will you come home?” she asked, and when he didn’t answer right away, her smile fell. “You know, for holidays and stuff?”

She watched him put another shirt in the box before he shook his head.

“You won’t come back at all?” she asked, a touch of panic seeping into her voice.

Michael turned toward her. “We’ll still see each other, Red. You can come visit me whenever you want. But…I can’t come back here.” He turned back toward the box and pulled a shirt from the top of the dresser. “I need to erase this place. Get away from the fucking disaster I’ve created here.”

Disaster? She would have laughed if he didn’t sound so upset. He couldn’t be serious, could he?

“Come on, Michael. No one cares about what happens in high school. So you got in a few fights. Getting suspended doesn’t really count as major life errors.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His words were clipped, and Lauren looked up at him. His back was still to her, but he had tensed visibly.

She pulled her brow together. “Well then, what are you talking about?”

He stood like that for a minute, saying nothing. Then he dropped his head, shaking it slowly.

“What is it?” she asked softly. “Tell me.”

He turned and looked at her, laughing humorlessly. “Well, I guess I got nothing to lose now, right?”

A strange feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at his words. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

Michael leaned back against his dresser, his eyes on her. “You know my dad left when I was five. But do you want to know why?”

Lauren blinked at him. She had never broached this subject with him, and she had no idea why he would be bringing it up now.

“If you want to tell me.”

“Because he found out I was@”ck you to someone else’s kid. Turns out my mom cheated on him, and I was the souvenir.”

A heavy lump settled in Lauren’s stomach as she tried to keep her face composed. She had no idea what to say to that.

“He wanted nothing to do with my mother, and nothing to do with me,” Michael continued. “He packed his shit that night, and the next morning he was gone.”

“Michael,” she said softly, the word sounding somewhat strangled despite her best effort.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “He came back for my brother a few times. But seeing me and my mom made him so miserable that eventually he moved to California. So because of the bastard child he couldn’t stand looking at, Aaron ended up losing his real dad.”

Her shoulders dropped as she shook her head, opening her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.

“Oh, but that’s not all. Because you also know that Aaron died three years later.” He paused, almost like he was assessing her. “Do you know how?”

Yet another thing they’d never talked about. Why was he doing this now? His tone of voice was casual as he spoke to her, overly so, but his eyes were intense, almost wild.

It made her uneasy.

She wrapped her arms around herself, and when she spoke, it was barely above a whisper. “I heard it was a car accident.”

He nodded. “Yep. He got behind the wheel of a car completely shitfaced and flipped it. Wrapped it around a tree.” He turned back to his shirts before he looked over his shoulder with a wry smile. “So now you know why I almost beat that kid’s ass the first day of Health.”

She looked up at him.

“For talking shit about the stupidity of drunk drivers,” he clarified. He laughed, but it was empty. “I still can’t believe you never asked me to explain that. It was one of my favorite things about you in the beginning.”

Lauren dropped her eyes and swallowed hard, trying to process what he’d just told her.

“Do you want to know why he did it?” he asked, tossing a folded shirt haphazardly into the box.

“Who?”

“My brother. You want to know why he was driving drunk?”

Lauren lifted her eyes, looking at him cautiously.

He turned back to face her. “Because I made him. My mom dumped me off at some stranger’s house to get rid of me for the night, and I called him bitching and moaning because I was scared. And so he got in that car, even though he shouldn’t have, because I begged him to come get me. And he did.” Michael shrugged again. “And we never made it home.”

Lauren was blinking quickly against the growing sting behind her eyes, and she wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself as she looked away from him. She had always known the pieces of the story, that his dad and brother were gone, but filling in the blanks, learning the specifics, felt like getting punched in the stomach.

“So that’s the story of Michael Delaney,” he said, resuming his folding. “The delinquent kid who tore his family apart and needs to get the hell out of here.”

She couldn’t speak. She could barely even process what he’d just told her. The circumstances of the losses he suffered were so awful, and he had to deal with the aftermath completely alone. My God, what would it feel like to have no family? Especially when you needed one the most? { display: block; text-indent: 5%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: before n the

“Do you know who your real dad is?” she asked softly.

“No. My mom wouldn’t talk about it, so I just stopped asking.”

She bit her lip. “You could find him, you know.”

“I don’t want to find him.”

After a second, Michael looked over his shoulder. She must have looked surprised, because he tilted his head at her.

“Come on, Red. Can’t you just see it? An eighteen-year-old idiot showing up on some guy’s doorstep.” He smiled a huge fake smile as he spoke with overdone enthusiasm. “Hey, remember that married woman you screwed all those years ago? Well, here I am! How’s it goin’, Pop?”

His face turned serious as the insincere excitement drained away. “I just don’t have a dad. I’ve accepted that.” He turned back around and grabbed another shirt. “I don’t want to have to prove myself to anyone.”

Too much. It was just too much. Lauren felt like she was pinned to his bed as she watched him.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

“I don’t talk about this with anyone.”

“But it’s me.”

He looked over his shoulder. “Exactly. You didn’t see me as the asshole everyone else did. And after hearing all this, how can you not?”

“Because it’s not your fault.”

Michael rolled his eyes and turned back to his shirts. “Here we go,” he said under his breath as he resumed packing.

“It isn’t.”

“You know, maybe I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to hear this exoneration bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” she said, her voice gaining strength. “Your mother was the one who was unfaithful. Your mother made the choice. You were innocent.”

He slammed a folded shirt into the box, causing Lauren to jump. “My brother?” he nearly growled, his back still to her.

“Michael, you were eight years old. You were scared. Your brother was always your protector. How could you have known? And it was your brother’s decision to—”

“Look,” he said, whirling on her. “I’ve lived with this all my life. I’ve come to terms with my role, so stop trying to blow smoke up my ass!”

He whipped back around, resuming his folding in rough, choppy movements, and suddenly whatever was pinning her to the bed reversed its hold, catapulting her away from it.

She was off the bed before she’d even made the decision to move, ripping the shirt out of his hands and slamming it down on the dresser.

He looked down at her, stunned.

“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass! Don’t you dare say that to me! When have I ever lied to you? I give it to you straight all the time, even when you don’t want to hear it!”

He stared at her for a second before he dropped his eyes. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She placed her hand on his chest, and he lifted his eyes again. “You’re blaming yourself for other people’s decisions,” she said firmly. “It’s not your fault, and I’m saying it because it’s the truth.@ there"> shoulder”

He looked at her before he shook his head gently. She could see it in his eyes, that he genuinely didn’t believe what she was saying. And suddenly, it struck her why.

In that moment, she was overcome with such a rush of anger that it startled her.

“You’ve been conditioned this way because of her,” she said through a clenched jaw as she gestured angrily downstairs. “Because she made you feel guilty for it all. And it’s disgusting.” She was trying so hard to remain calm, but her voice was shaking with the effort.

“When your dad left, you lost a father because of her bad choices. She should have owned that! And you wouldn’t have had to call Aaron that night if she didn’t dump you off instead of being a mother!”

She was yelling now, but she couldn’t help it. She hated that woman. She physically hated her, with the full force of her entire body and soul. “When Aaron died, you lost someone too! She should have made right what she wronged! She was the adult! You were just a kid, for Christ’s sake!”

Michael was staring off over her head; his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and Lauren felt her anger waver.

She hated her.

But she loved him.

And he didn’t need to be yelled at over this. He’d suffered enough because of what his mother had done.

She reached for his hand, clasping it gently. “And the fact that she shut you out?” she said, her voice much softer but still shaking. “That was yet another awful decision that she made. She was wrong. Not you. You were the victim of all this, not the cause. Can’t you see that?”

He was still staring off over her head, but Lauren saw a muscle flex in the side of his jaw.

He shook his head in response.

That’s when she noticed it. The glassy shine of tears in his eyes, threatening to fall.

She threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around his waist as she dropped her forehead against his chest. Instantly, his arms came around her as he pressed his face into the crown of her head. She could feel his breath in her hair, somewhat unsteady as he fought to regain control over his emotions, and she tightened her hold on him.

She wanted to consume him, just hug him so tightly that he disappeared somewhere within her body, where she could protect him.

Where she could keep him forever.

She squeezed him tighter, planting a kiss on his chest, and suddenly the trembling breath in her hair became something else. She felt it hitch again, but it was different this time.

Lauren could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, the way it started thumping irregularly, and she knew it was a different feeling he was struggling to contain now.

This was it. Her last chance. He had told her once, “If you really want something, you shouldn’t stop until you get it, no matter what you have to do.”

And there was nothing in her life she’d ever wanted more than him.

She raised her head so that her chin was resting on his chest, and he tilted his, looking down at her, his eyes still shining with unshed tears.

Then she went up on her toes and kissed him.

The last time they had kissed all those months ago, it had been frantic. Urgent.

This was soft. Tender. Almost reverent.

All at once, his hands were on her face, her fingertips were trailing over his back, and his taste was on her lips, just as she remembered it.

“Lauren,” he said between kisses, the word both a plea and a warning.

“Just kiss me, Michael,” she breathed. “Just kiss.”

And he brought his mouth back to hers.

Lauren removed her hands from under his shirt and slid them up around his neck, pulling him further down into the kiss. She felt his arms tighten around her waist, and suddenly she was off the floor.

With their faces at the same level, the kiss intensified, and for a second, they were as needy as they’d been that night on his floor before his friends interrupted them.

But then he pulled back, lowering her back to the floor as he slowly released his hold around her waist.

Lauren shook her head slightly, using her hands on his neck to keep his mouth on hers once she reached the floor again. He obliged, but his kiss was gentle. Too gentle.

It felt like he was ending it.

She wasn’t going to give in that easily. Not this time.

Lauren took a step back, bringing him with her, and when the backs of her knees hit his bed, she lay back onto it. He went with her, catching himself on his hands and immediately positioning himself on his side, leaving several inches in between their bodies. He was still kissing her, but what had started out as worshipful and progressed to frenzied now seemed almost cautious.

Lauren slid her hand over his waist and gripped his shirt, pulling him on top of her.

He made a small noise, but Lauren couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or protest.

When she leaned up to kiss him, he pulled back slightly, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.

“I want to,” she whispered.

He swallowed, shaking his head imperceptibly. “I told you, I can’t.”