I HAVEN’T SEEN Mare’s room in years. The last time I saw it I’m pretty sure she still had silly boy band posters covering every inch of her walls. It wasn’t often that I even visited the cabin she shared with her father, let alone came up to her room in the loft.
Mare closes the door behind me, her bare feet stopping on a fluffy white rug next to her bed. She looks nervous to have me in her space. I’ve never thought about the fact that she’s been in my room so many times and probably could describe it in vivid detail to anyone who asked about it. Until now, if someone had asked for me to tell them about her room, I’d bring up the Anticipation Rising posters that had been thumb tacked into her walls. I would’ve said I thought she had an animal print comforter and that’s all I’d be able to recall. It’s just now occurring to me how much she knows about my personal space and how little I know about hers.
Now there isn’t a single poster in sight. Her comforter is a pale pink. She has abstract prints on her walls and shelves lined with books and personal items. None of that really catches my attention. Not when I notice the boxes lined up on one of the walls.
It feels like a punch to the gut, another reminder of how much she wants to get away from this small town.
I have to immediately look away from the moving boxes before I let it ruin our night together. I already ran my mouth when we were in the kitchen when I shouldn’t have. It feels like we’re walking on thin ice now. I can’t take my words back. I can’t un-ask what happens to us when she leaves.
What I can do is make the most of the time we have together until then.
“What are you thinking?” Mare asks, taking a seat at the edge of her bed.
“I was thinking how you’ve been in my room—in my bed—so many times, but I hadn’t stepped foot in yours in years.”
Her eyes scan the room as if she’s looking at her own space with new eyes. I look to the side of the room that’s caught her eye. Letting out a breath, I walk to the spot that’s captured her attention. Right next to a stack of papers that look like what might be pages of whatever she’s currently writing, there’s a picture frame with a photo of Mare, Pippa, and me. Except Pippa isn’t really in it. Her face is blurry and half of her body is cut out of it.
It’s mostly a photo of just Mare and me. We’re riding the ski lift at one of our local slopes. She’d pulled out her phone wanting a selfie but Pippa had been too busy complaining about how cold her cheeks were so she’d missed the photo. I’d been caught off guard by Mare pulling out her phone. I think if I remember correctly, I’d also been scolding her that she was going to drop it. It doesn’t matter. In the photo Mare stares at the camera, her cheeks bright red from the wind with a huge smile on her face. My eyes aren’t on the camera, they’re on her. My smile is as wide as hers.
It’s weird to look back at some of our memories together and see them with fresh eyes. Even though the picture was taken close to two years ago, I wonder if I felt something more for her back then and I just didn’t know it. The way I look at her in this picture, it’s hard to imagine I didn’t. Maybe something has always been there, it just needed time to come to the forefront of my mind and heart.
Mare wraps her hands around my middle, squeezing me from the back as she tucks her head underneath my arm. “It’s one of my favorite pictures.”
“I didn’t even remember that you took it.” I’m struck by an overwhelming feeling that I can’t describe. It’s like that photo helped me realize how deep the feelings I have for her really run and how long they’ve been there, just waiting to be addressed.
“I forgot about it at first, but one night I was flipping through my phone’s camera roll when I saw it. I knew I wanted to frame it immediately.”
“I’m shocked Pippa hasn’t complained about not really being in it.”
Mare shrugs underneath my arm. “Oh, she hasn’t noticed. She’d be pissed if I framed anything that didn’t have her as the center of attention.”
I chuckle. That’s my sister. She demands all the attention and doesn’t want to accept anything less. It’s always worked out well for us. She wants all the attention when I want none of it. We were a perfect pair, even with the few years of an age difference between us.
Turning around, I grab Mare’s arms and wrap them around my neck. I pull her small frame into me, wrapping mine around her back.
“I like your room, Goldie. Want to show me your bed?”
Her cheeks turn pink. She nods enthusiastically, backing up as she keeps a firm grip on my hand.
When the back of her thighs hit the mattress, I pick her up and toss her onto the bed. She squeals, a bright smile on her face. Quickly, I slip out of my shoes and leave them on the rug. Mare props herself up by her elbows, her hair spilling down her shoulders, as she watches me closely.
I crawl along the bed until my body hovers over hers. Holding myself up, I look down at her, running my fingers along her cheeks. “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”
Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she does her best to fight a smile. It doesn’t work for long. “No one,” she lies. I’ve told her countless times, but I don’t mind telling her again.
“You’re beautiful,” I declare, kissing the new freckles on her face softly. She laughs with each press of my lips to her skin.
I kiss every single inch of her face except for her lips before I pull away. My hair hangs off my forehead, obstructing my perfect view of her. I’m wondering how I’ll ever survive having her leave this town when she smiles up at me with so much affection it makes my heart constrict in my chest.
“Say it again,” she whispers.
What I want to tell her is that I think I’ve fallen in love with her.
“You’re beautiful,” I repeat.
“I’m yours,” she responds.
There goes my heart again, squeezing inside my chest with the terrifying pain of loving her with the knowledge there’s a great chance I don’t get to keep her. She says she’s mine, but I can’t help but wonder for how long.
It’ll break my heart to have her anything less than forever.
Mare’s hands drift underneath my jacket and T-shirt. Her hands are cold against my warm skin as she tentatively explores my abdomen.
“Cade?”
“Yes, Goldie?”
“Are you mine?”
I flinch because I don’t understand how she doesn’t know the answer to this already. That photo she has framed should tell her everything she needs to know. I’ve always been hers, before I even knew it. It seems obvious now that Goldie has always been my world. I’d do anything for her. It’s why I opened my bedroom door to comfort her each and every night—even when I knew I shouldn’t.
I separate our bodies enough that I can unzip my jacket. It falls to the ground with a soft thud as I throw it to the side, my T-shirt following in its path. Mare’s eyes go wide as she watches my every move. Her breaths get heavier, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
With the top half of me undressed, I climb on top of her body again. I grab her hand, pressing it against my chest. There’s no way she doesn’t feel the intensity of my rapid heartbeat against her palm. “You feel that?”
She nods. “I do.”
“Ask me again if I’m yours.”
“Are you mine?”
“My heart only beats like that for you.” I press her hand against my chest, proving to her that no one controls my heartbeats like she does. I don’t think anyone will ever be able to, even if she and I don’t work out the way I hope. I don’t see any kind of love that can compare to the love I have for the woman gazing up at me.
Mare pulls her hand from my chest. For a brief moment, I wonder if I’ve said too much, if there’s a chance that I’ve scared her. Before I can try and take back my words, she’s guiding my hands underneath her shirt. My fingers brush the sides of her breasts, bringing my attention to the fact she isn’t wearing any sort of bra.
Our hands, with our fingers interlocked, come to a stop on her chest. Her heartbeat matches mine. It beats strong against my skin, the erratic rhythm in perfect sync with mine.
“For my entire life, my heart has only beat for one person. That’s you, Cade Jennings. Even without knowing if you’d ever be mine, I knew I was yours.”
“I like the sound of that, Goldie.” When she arches into me, I can’t help but let my fingers drift a bit lower. My fingertips trace the swell of her breasts.
“I like being yours and you being mine. I want to be yours in every way.” Her voice is timid but sure as she arches deeper into my touch.
My head comes forward until my forehead presses against hers. I suck in air, unable to come up with reasons why we should wait. I want her in every way possible—physically and emotionally. I just didn’t want to do anything she wasn’t ready for.
“Goldie…”
Her hands are firm against my cheeks as she rests them on either side of my face. “I’m ready, Cade. Please, I want to feel what it’s like to be yours.”
“I’m yours no matter what.”
She nods and fuck if I wasn’t already madly in love with her, I know that this moment would be the reason I fell. It’s the way she tenderly rubs my cheekbone before her hands travel down my bare chest that does me in. I don’t stop her when her slender fingers play with the waistband of my pants.
“I’m yours and you’re mine. Now can we be us?”
My cock strains so hard against my briefs and cotton sweatpants. I’ve never been touched by her but fuck I’m ready for it. “If that’s what you want,” I mutter against her lips. Before she can answer me, I kiss her. I know I can take my time with her, but I’m so used to our kisses being rushed that this one is no different. This time, the rush is fueled by passion. By the desperate need from both of us to finally feel what it’s like to go all the way together.
“You know it’s what I want, Cade. I just don’t know if it’s what you want.”
I move my hips until the outline of my cock presses against her palm. I’m hard as fuck, my dick aching to feel her touch. “Feel how hard this is for you, Goldie?” I guide her hand until her fingers slip underneath the pieces of fabric shielding me from her. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you think anything other than the fact that I’m fucking wrecked by the thought of feeling you touch my cock, of burying myself inside you.”
“Oh,” she whispers as her fingertips brush along my shaft.
“I’m fucking crazy about you. And if you’re sure you’re ready, I want this just as bad as you do.”
Mare takes the lead, her fingers wrapping around my dick inside my joggers. She’s slow at first, taking her time at memorizing the feel of me in her grasp. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” she whispers.
My head falls backward. Her hand moves up and down slowly as she applies the smallest of pressure, but fuck it already feels too fucking good. “Grip me tighter. Don’t be shy as you get to know my cock.”
