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Reed’s hand coasted up my back and landed in my hair, his fingers curling into a fist as he yanked my head back and his mouth slid down the center of my throat, his tongue diving into the space between my breasts.

He groaned loudly, unrestrained, the leather of his coat cooling my scorching skin. “Fuck, Halley…”

I was vibrating in his arms, my underwear pooling with need. I raked my fingers through his hair and squeezed, my chest surging beneath his mouth. “More.” My dress was suffocating me, my own skin strangling me.

“We can’t have more.” But his lips made their way back to mine. He kissed me again, harder, more punishing, like he was cursing the air we breathed and the world that turned while we stood still. He flicked his tongue against the roof of my mouth and caught my bottom lip between his teeth before pulling away. Grasping my cheeks, his fingers dug into me. Our foreheads pressed together as he gritted out, “This is all we’ll ever have.”

I shook my head, tears blooming. “Keep kissing me.” My mouth reached for his, but he dodged me. “Reed, please.”

“Halley, no. We can’t take it any further.”

“We can…”

“Not if I plan on surviving this.”

My eyelids fluttered closed as his words trampled through me. He’d told me at the roller rink that this was killing him. He had feelings, and they went beyond physical desire. While I lived my life in little moments and intervals, savoring each one for what it was, Reed was looking ahead. He saw how our future played out. He knew exactly what was coming.

And it wasn’t a happily ever after.

It wasn’t a fairy tale glimmering with wedding bells and baby bumps.

It was pain.

It was me on one side of the waterline, and him on the other.

Tara would never forgive me. The betrayal would eat us both alive, and I had just started living. How could we ever have a future? If we were to get married, that would make me…

Tara’s stepmother.

The notion had me inching away, my fingers slowly letting go of his hair. I nodded, understanding. Knowing he was right.

“I’m sorry.” He fell back into his seat and scrubbed both hands up and down his face. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

I settled back on my own side and swiped away the tangling of hair that had come loose from my barrette, staring out at the water, my chin quivering. This was my fault. If I’d never lied to him about my age that night, this connection never would have seeped inside of us, hollowing out our vital parts. He would have just been Tara’s father.

“I’m sorry, too,” I said softly, crossing my arms and leaning back. “For everything.”

We simmered in the thick tension, the silence that said so much.

And then the tears started falling.

Sliding down my cheeks and clouding my eyes.

“You’re crying,” he said, after a long beat had trudged by.

I nodded and squeaked out, “Yes.”

“Because I kissed you? Or because I stopped?”

Swiping the salt off my cheekbones, I turned to look at him, his face bathed in moonglow and dashboard light. Then I swallowed, heaving in a broken breath. “Because…I didn’t get to dance.”

I almost laughed.

But I was too sad to laugh.

He frowned in confusion, studying me. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged, forcing a small smile. “Prom,” I told him. “We didn’t dance.”