Fall from Love

with it and pulls off his boxers in one swift movement. Oh, my God! I tear my eyes away before I see anything, not wanting to see him naked for a secondtime. I’m not sure what’s worse, them stripping or me. This isn’t nearly as enjoyable as I thought it would be, but I guess it’s so much better than me losing another piece of clothing. Jenna is laughing, clearly enjoying this, while I keep my face down. Just when I think things can’t get more uncomfortable, I see another pair of boxers come to a rest at my feet.
     
    ❧
     
    “So, just like old times, huh?” Carter asks me as he throws a blanket and pillow on the couch.
    “Hey, I offered to sleep down here and let you have your bed. You said no,” I remind him, smiling.
    “You know I don’t mind. I actually started to like it down here and I’ve missed it,” he says, looking away and falling on the couch. The last few hours have felt like old times and, from the smile on Carter’s face, it looks like he’s enjoyed himself, too.
    “Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, heading upstairs.
    “Yeah, goodnight, Holly,” he calls and I’m reminded of how much I miss him saying those words.
    “Night, Carter.”
    As I slip under the covers and close my eyes, I try not to think about how badly I want to go downstairs to see Carter. We have so many things to talk about. There is so much unfinished business between us that I don’t want to let everything that has happened the last few weeks—like how he tried to ignore my existence—go without notice. I toss and turn for close to an hour before finally giving up. Making my way down the stairs, I try to push the fear and nerves out of my head.
    “Carter,” I whisper, staring into darkness. “Are you awake?”
    “Yeah, I’m up.” His voice is soft and deep.
    “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
    “Yeah, sure.” I see a large shadow rise and scoot back into a sitting position on the couch.
    I take a seat beside him and—without even touching him—I can feel the heat from him, sending a path of warmth through me.
    You can do this, Holly, I silently give myself a pep talk.
    “I lied to you, again,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “When I said that I just wanted to be friends...” my voice trails off. My heart is beating so hard and fast that I can feel it lodged in my throat, blocking any air trying to get to my lungs. Swallowing hard and trying not to pay attention to what my body wants, I try to find the words, try to fill the silence, but my mind is overcome by his closeness to me. My eyes are adjusting to the darkness and, from the little light that is cast from the moon, I can see his chest is bare. I can’t help it as my eyes trail up the length of it and then back down.
    “Yeah, I lied to you, too,” he says finally, his voice dry and rough. The last word barely makes it out of his mouth before his arms are around me and his lips are on mine, giving me what I really want and need from him. Without any effort, he picks me up, sits back farther on the couch, and sets me on top of him... all in one swift move and all without breaking our connection. My legs are straddled on either side of him and I bury my hands in his hair, pulling him closer to me, pressing his lips harder to mine.
    Days, weeks, and months of lying to myself, lying to him, and denying what I want—what my body wants—is trying to catch up from the lost time. Clamping down on my thighs he jerks me forward, bringing me tighter against him, giving me even more of a hunger for him. Our lips slide over each other’s in quick, ravenous, surges; both of us taking short gasps of air before diving back into each other.
    Breaking from our kiss he hungrily trails kisses down my neck, taking in mouthfuls of my skin, sucking on it, causing moans and whimpers to escape me. His lips come back to meet mine and I work mine against his, urgently. His hands glide over the tops of my thighs, up to my hips, and then slowing his movements, they gently drift under my shirt to rub across my stomach and along my ribs. His soft and sweet movements cause me to slow down my pace as well, wanting to enjoy every piece of him I can.
    “Holly,” he gasps, breaking our connection, slowly drawing away from me.
    “Yeah,” I breathe, pulling him back to me.
    He removes his hand from under my shirt and gently releases the grip I have around his neck, joining our hands and resting them on his chest in between us.
    “I think