Page 77 of Parallel
“I can’t believe you thought for a fucking second I could want anyone but you,” I reply. My lips press to her brow, to her eyelids, her temples, the blade of her cheek, the soft spot just below her ear, until I finally find her mouth. She tastes like mint and sugar, and I could spend a hundred years just doing this—memorizing the contour of her lips, relishing the small, solid warmth ofher.
She rests her forehead against my chest. “But…can’t you get in trouble forthis?”
Yes, and I no longer care. “I don’t think we have to worry about it too much. As long as we’recareful.”
She cocks a brow. “That isn’t what Iasked.”
I’m tempted to lie because I know exactly how she’s going to react to the truth. But she’sit—the person I want forever, or for as long as I can have her. For once in my life I want to be an open book. “I could, intheory, lose my medical license if someone made a big enough deal out ofit.”
She jerks backward. “You could lose your license forgood? But…” She trails off, crestfallen. “You can’t risk that. I mean, how long would something with us even last? I might not evenbe—”
I pull her back to me. “Stop. We have no idea how long you have, and I’m sure as hell not going to let some vaguely possible consequence keep me away from you, so don’t even suggest it.” I exhale heavily. The next part has to be said, no matter how much I’d like to skip it. “But I need to be sure that this is really okay. You’re relying on me to treat you, and you shouldn’t feel like there are strings attached. To anyone outside of us, this situation would look kind of predatory. You’re in a vulnerable position and—” My words trail off. They sound even worse out loud than they did in myhead.
She slaps a palm to her forehead. “Predatory? Are you kidding me? I wanted you long before any of this began. Before I even knew about the brain tumor, I was trying to stop dreaming about you. And ever since you kissed me yesterday, I’ve been unable to think about anything else, which I can assure you has nothing to do with your ability to heal mybrain.”
My eyes flicker to her mouth, uncertain. I push her hair back from her face, palms on her cheeks. “Does this mean you’re minenow?”
She smiles up at me. “I think maybe I alwayswas.”
I lean down, capture once more that mouth I’ve craved since the first time I ever saw her. But I refuse to get carried away like I did yesterday, on the dock. Tonight is our beginning and I want every step of it to be perfect, memorable. Her hands slide through my hair. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” shesays.
“I have a long list of things I’ve wanted to do for so long,” I reply, my mouth moving from her jaw to her perfect neck, “but they’re probably not appropriate for a firstdate.”
She laughs. “Is that what thisis?”
I force myself back from her. “Not yet, it’s not.” Behind her the house is quiet, mostly dark. “I haven’t said this in over a decade, and I’m not sure there’s anything around here that’s open, but are you allowed out aftercurfew?”
She grins. “Yes. And I know just the place. Waithere.”
She runs inside and comes back a minute later with a blanket, a bottle of wine, and two plastic cups. We drive into the hills and turn onto a gravel road, where she tells me to pull off. “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” I say. “I’d just like to point out that if our situations were reversed you’d probably be getting a little nervousnow.”
She grins at me. “You’re safe. Probably.” She hops out and leads me to the top of the hill where, far below us, a river winds as far as I can see, lit with starlight. I pull her close and for a moment we just take it all in. She was right—this isperfect.
“I forgot how wet it is,” she says. “I don’t think we can sit outhere.”
“I have an idea.” I open the tailgate of the Jeep and spread the blanket out in back. The roof is already off and the back seats are down, so there’s just enough room for the two ofus.
“You’re pulling me into the back of your car butI’mthe scary one,” she says as I lift herup.
“You’re safe,” I reply. “Probably.”
She looks at me from beneath her lashes and her mouth curves upward. “That’sdisappointing.”
Her words and that raspy little note in her voice send blood rushing to my cock. I flinch as I climb in after her, trying to will it back down to neutral. This is essentially our first date, even if it feels like our hundredth. I’m not going to try to get off in here like some sex-crazed teenager, no matter how hard it is.Literally.
She pours us each a plastic cup full of wine, and then we lie on our sides, facing each other, since there’s really no other way the two of us willfit.
“I like it here,” I tell her. “How’d you findit?”
She puts her wine down. “My dad and I used to hike up here when I was a kid, and later I started coming on myown.”
I hear a hint of something sad in her voice and it puzzles me. I don’t understand how it is that her childhood, when she describes it, always sounds so lonely. She looks like the kind of girl who would have had everything— too many friends and admirers to count, the adulation of an entire town. “Why’d you keep coming back here byyourself?”
She hitches a shoulder. “It was hard growing up here sometimes. It was hard being in my own home half the time. But coming here reminded me how big the world was, and that in a world as big as ours, there was surely a person and place forme.”
“Aperson?”
Her lashes brush the tops of her cheekbones. “The person you’re meant to be with. The one who accepts you in spite of everything and matters so much that the rest of the world mattersless.”