Always and Forever (12 page)

“Hey, Mia,” Brad greeted, raising one meaty hand. There was no denying the boy was a football player. He was a walking brick: square, hard, and immovable. “My parents told me what a great party you guys had the other night. Sorry I missed it, but Dave had a family thing.”

I returned his warm smile and shrugged carelessly. “I'm sorry, too, but hey, there's always next year.”

Kal handed me my board and slammed the trunk shut. “You guys done for the day?”

Both boys nodded in unison. “You know Mammoth is the best for boarding,” Dave told us. “But Slim's not too bad today. For once. That's where we just came from.” He shrugged. “You know, if you don't want to deal with the riff raff.”

Kal grinned. Adam and Ricki were our friends and we all loved them dearly, but neither one of them adhered to the rules of etiquette while boarding and sometimes—well most all the time—they could get a little obnoxious. “Thanks for the heads up guys, but we promised we'd meet them today. So, we'll just have to tough it out.”

Dave and Brad both winced in commiseration, then shrugged. Dave made a show of looking at his watch and whistling. “We got to go,” he said.

Brad nodded. “We'll see you guys around?” he asked me. “You're coming to the train depot on New Year's Eve, right?”

I looked to Kal, not wanting to agree to anything if he'd already made plans. He nodded. “Yeah, we'll be there.”

“Cool, cool. See you guys there, then,” he returned, as Dave grabbed his arm and started dragging him away.

We watched them go, arms wrapped around each other and heads bowed together. “They're so cute,” I sighed.

Kal raised a questioning brow. “I hope you meant that in a
they're an adorable gay couple
way, and, not in an
I think I could turn them straight
kind of way.”

“Jealous?”

He caught hold of my waist, yanked me tight up against his chest, and then banded his arms around my body, a steel cage I had no intention of ever trying to escape. “Actually, yes. Surprisingly so,” he murmured. “I don't even want to think about you kissing any other guys.”

“I don't want to think about it either,” I whispered and pushed up on tiptoes so I could press my lips to his. In that moment, it was just the two of us. No one else stood at the periphery looking in. There were no problems. No cancer. It was just us, in our own blissful little bubble, and I wanted it to last.

Always and forever.

F
IFTEEN

“HEY.”

I looked up from my book as Kal sauntered into my bedroom, his hands tucked suspiciously behind his back. “Hey yourself,” I replied. I dog-earred the page and closed the book in my lap. “What are you hiding?”

Kal climbed up onto the bed beside me and his lips landed on mine in one fluid motion. My arms automatically snaked up around his neck and drew him in closer, closer, and yet closer still, until our clothes were the only barrier between us. Even then, my whole body flooded with heat and cried out
more, more, more
all the while my mind was screaming for me to
just stop
. Stop torturing the two of us with this tragic game of
what if
.

Rationally, I knew that the longer I let this all go on, the harder it would be when the time came to break things off. But each time I opened my mouth to tell him everything, he'd say something designed to assault my senses. He'd look at me with those soulful eyes of his like I was the only good thing in his entire world, and my resolve would crumble.

Just one more day. Just one more hour. Just one more minute
.

Each time, I would fold and allow myself to bask in the warmth of his arms. Just being with him chased all the shadows away. I could easily imagine spending the rest of forever with him, and therein lay the problem.

I didn't have the rest of forever.

But he did, and I stole it from him with my silence, with my selfishness in holding onto him. I had to end this, and it had to be tonight.

Today.

Right now.

With a small gasp, his mouth left mine, but he didn't go far. His lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he rested his forehead against mine. My arms were still hooked around his neck, cemented into place, unwilling to release him. I pulled in a deep breath and forced myself to let go. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do. I opened my mouth, my lips parting to form the loathsome words that needed to be said, the ones that would send him far, far away from me and shatter my heart into a million tiny pieces. The words that would free him from loving the dead girl.

But before a single syllable could drop off the tip of my tongue, something soft and velvety slid across my cheek, bringing with it an intoxicating floral perfume. I cut a quick glance down to see what he'd been hiding in his palm. The pinkish-purple rose bud dangled from his fingers, softly caressing my skin, transferring its fragrance, its essence onto me. He leaned up on his elbow and hovered over me as he traced the flower along my jaw, chin, and over my lips.

“Sterling roses.” His bottomless brown eyes locked onto mine and trapped me with their intensity. “Like any rose, it's beautiful, but unlike them, it's naturally without thorns. Completely flawless. Quite possibly the most perfect flower in all of the world,” he mused. The bud slid upwards, along the bridge of my nose and over my eyelids as they fluttered closed. “Like you.”

My eyes snapped open at that. His words brought up a flood of angry tears. How dare he say something so…so…
perfect
? Couldn't he see that this was already killing me? Did he have to be so wonderful all of the time?

“Kal—”

His mouth settled over mine once more, stole my breath, knocked me senseless, and yet again pulverized my determination to end this madness.

“I was so scared, so fucking frightened that night we exchanged gifts. I've loved you for so long, Mia,” he admitted, a joyful grin
spreading across his face. “I'd finally worked up the nerve to tell you how I felt, and I was just so worried that you'd freak out on me, tell me that we were friends and would never be anything more. I really don't know what would've been worse—” He feathered soft kisses along my jaw, little drops of heaven lifting me up and stealing away the unpleasantness of reality. “—if you only looked at me as a friend or if you really did have cancer.”

“Kal,” I sighed. Somewhere along the way, while he made his grand confession and ambushed me with his kisses, my fingers had threaded their way through his hair and anchored him to me. My own personal lifeline. Now, I pulled gently in an effort to get him to stop and listen to me before he tore my heart out even more. “Kal, I—”

He groaned softly and shook his head, his smile turning self-deprecating. “I know you think I'm Mr. Highroad and can do no wrong, but I'm kind of selfish when it comes to you. And as bad as it sounds, I couldn't have survived either. Cancer or just friendship with no hope of anything more.” He ducked his head forward, letting me pull on his hair as he dropped another kiss on the end of my nose. “Either would've killed me. I love you so much.” His lips brushed the corner of my mouth. “Always.” Another light kiss at the opposite corner. “And forever.” Then came the real kiss, the one that seemed to last for a century. The one that curled my toes and turned my insides liquid. The one that had me wishing—as was so often the case in the last week—for just a little more time with Kal.

Just a few more days. Just a few more hours. Just a few more minutes
.

“Kal,” I bit my lip, swallowing hard against the tidal wave of anguish rushing up to choke the life out of me. I shook my head, my eyes sliding closed to keep the tears from leaking out. “I—”

His soft chuckles cut me off. “I know,” he said. “I'm rushing you, aren't I? I mean, it's okay to say so. We've only technically been dating for a week.” He rubbed his nose against mine. His breath sailed over my skin and made me want to forget about everything outside this moment, everything else in the world but the two of us. “But I just wanted you to know how I felt.” He shook his head, a slight movement that kept our foreheads pressed together. Our noses slid along each other, and our breath mingled to the point that I could no longer tell where I ended and he began. “I don't want you
to feel like you have to respond in kind. In fact, don't say anything at all. We have the rest of our lives to talk, to plan our future. So, let's just lay here, relax, and shut the hell up.”

To emphasize his point, he pressed his fingers against my lips and effectively halted any words that might've thought about jumping off them. We stared at each other for an endless minute. Then, my lips parted, allowing my tongue to flick out and taste his skin.

Apparently, that was answer enough for him. He growled low in his throat and swooped down to recapture my mouth with his. This kiss was so much more intense than any of the others we'd had. Fraught with warring emotions—happiness and hope from his side and pain and desperation from mine—our bodies clashed into one another, splintering into jagged slivers of our former selves and then melding together to form one organ. A heart that neither one of us could claim solely as our own, but one that we'd share. Always and forever.

The torment of knowing that for us
always and forever
would never be quite as long as either one of us had ever expected tore at me. How could I have allowed this to happen? How could I be so selfish as to do this to him? Why wasn't I strong enough to end this, to put both of us out of our misery once and for all?

His lips left mine to cut a blazing trail along my face, jaw, and down the column of my neck. My hands clutched at his head; my fingers burrowed through his soft locks and urged him on. This was my chance. I should have stopped him from going any further. Should have said something, anything.

But my body had a mind of its own. Under his touch, my skin came alive, hummed with an electric heat that both scorched and soothed at the same time.

His hands were at my waist and then slid up underneath my shirt as his lips traveled along my collarbone. A soft mewl floated up out of me. My back arched up as his hand skimmed along my stomach and continued its path
up, up, up
. His name—which had hovered on my lips for so long—jumped off in a surprised little gasp when his palm cupped my breast, his thumb lazily sliding over the lace of my bra for one heated moment before his hand slid upwards
even more and then dipped down inside the cup. Skin met skin—my whole body erupted in molten lava.

Cool air kissed my stomach as he shifted to bring his lips back to mine all the while keeping his hand firmly in place. “So beautiful,” he breathed against my mouth as his tongue darted out for a taste. “So perfect. I'm the luckiest man in the whole world to have you, Mia. I don't know what I ever did—”

“Don't,” I cut in. Agony ripped through the vivid illusion I'd created for myself, there in his arms. I pushed up, locked my arms around his neck, and reeled him in for another kiss to silence any further grand declarations of love from him that I really didn't need or want.

He didn't fight me, instead threw himself into our kiss, showed me without words just how lucky he believed himself to be. That I could deal with. That I could pretend meant something else entirely. Then, I wouldn't feel like the biggest asshole for stringing him along like I was.

I pushed those thoughts far, far away and instead focused on the moment itself. Memorized each sigh, each touch, each taste and filed them away for when he wouldn't be there…when I'd be all alone and dragging in my last, broken breath. These would be the things I'd remember. Only the good parts. Like the way his hair fell across my brow while we were kissing. The slightly chapped edges of his lips. The peppermint flavor on his tongue. The rough stubble coating his chin that told me he hadn't shaved that morning. The husky timbre of his voice as he whispered my name. These were the things I'd remember. The best of times. Never the worst.

His lips left mine abruptly, his whole body locked up, and his eyes went wide like a deer caught in the headlights.

Confused, I swiveled my head from side to side and glanced around the room. “What is it?”

He closed his eyes, shook his head, and blew out a heavy sigh. “Your…uh…cat,” he groaned softly.

“What?”

“Your cat is—” His eyes snapped back open. A pained grimace curled his lips. “Attacking me,” he forced out through clenched teeth.

“Huh?” I pushed up as his hand fell out from under my shirt and peered over his shoulder to see what he was talking about. Sprawled along Kal's spine, paws stretched out, and claws extended and sunk into the soft spot between his shoulder blades was my evil cat. “Horcrux,” I cried. “You stop that!” I reached out to shoo him away, which earned me a mad-kitty-death-stare and a hiss worthy of only the most venomous of creatures.

“Don't make him mad,” Kal grunted. “I'd like to keep the skin on my back if it's all the same to you.”

I rolled my eyes. “And, what is your brilliant plan to get him off you?”

“I'll let you know when I think of it,” he muttered under his breath. “I swear that cat of yours is the spawn of Satan.”

At which point, Horcrux purred. Loudly.

“Apparently, he agrees with you, and sees it as a compliment,” I laughed.

“Not funny, Mia,” he groaned.

“It's a little funny,” I countered. At his continued glare, I sighed dramatically and reached around him to pet my nefarious feline. The purrs grew louder, and when Horcrux relaxed his claws, I snagged him under the armpits and dragged him off Kal's back and up to my chest. “You're not really a bad kitty, are you?” I asked the cat, who sniffed the air in my direction and continued his purrs. “See, Kallie? He just wanted some attention.” I cuddled Horcrux close and rubbed the sweet spot behind his ears.

Kal rolled his eyes and levered himself off the bed. “Yeah, your poor, neglected cat probably spilled a pint of my blood,” he grumbled as he stomped toward the bathroom. The back of his shirt was, indeed, spotted with crimson.

I turned to the ball of fur in my arms. “Why are you like that?” I asked him. “You know you're going to have to apologize now. Right?”