"Then don't. Don't you want to?"
I roll onto my back, putting space between us, and cover my face with my hands. "It's not that. You mean a lot to me."
"Well, isn't doing stuff a way to show how much you care about someone? You did stuff with Riley. Are you saying you give your body to people you don't care about?"
"What? Who said?" I drop my hands. "Never mind, it doesn't matter. I didn't bring you here for that. I brought you here so we could be alone and talk and find each other again. I wanted to close the distance that spending the summer apart put between us." I grab her hand and intertwine our fingers. "I have you, and you're enough just like this."
"Okay," she says somewhat dejectedly.
I'm about to question her and demand she tell me exactly what she's thinking. I'm done guessing. I chose her, I want her, and that means everything. I want every insecurity, every argument,and every bad day, so I can make it better, because that's what existing in her world does for me. She makes it better.
Her eyes flash to mine. "But you do want to…"—she nervously clears her throat—"do those things with me?"
"Yes, Laney. I want everything with you."
Her eyes slowly flick between mine, and then she lays her head on my chest. "Me too."
She makes herself comfortable, listening to the beat of my heart, and it's on the tip of my tongue to tell her it beats for her, but I don't. We have time. I plan on keeping her. I plan on giving her the world.
Chapter 7
Senior Year
LANEY
AGE EIGHTEEN
"I'm glad you crashed tonight," I say, swinging my legs off the back of his tailgate in my yellow prom dress.
"I never wanted to miss it, but prom fell the same week as finals," he says, hopping up on the tailgate to join me.
"I know," I sympathize as we stare at Lake Texoma, parked in what became our spot eight years ago. "I'll be at Stanley with you in a few months."
He's quiet, and my insecurities start to take root. We haven't seen each other as much over the past few months since he left for college. Our dynamic has changed. I wouldn't say it has been bad, but the distance that separated us physically feels like it's seeped in—in other ways.
"Are you sure that's what you want?"
My head snaps to him. "If you don't want me to come, just say that."
His eyes widen as his hand tightens around my fingers. "No, Laney. That's not what I'm getting at. I want you there if you want to be there…" he trails off.
"Then what? Did you find someone else?" The second I found out he was going to college three hours away, my heart sank into my stomach. The year difference between us in high school wasn't a big deal, but after graduation, that year felt like ten. I suddenly felt like a little girl compared to him. What college guy wants to date a girl in high school when he can have a woman. I'm sure the girls on campus are experienced and better suited to care for his needs. My stomach starts to churn at the mere thought of him touching someone else.
I try to pull my hand away, and he grips it tighter. "Are you serious? Why would you say that? Of course there's no one else."
"Well, what am I supposed to think? It feels like you're sitting here telling me you don't want to be with me anymore when I'm excited about eliminating the space between us. We'll be on the same campus and won't have to sneak around."
"That reminds me... Do me a favor. Don't sneak out tonight." My body starts to get hot. Did he really just say that? My sneaking into his room was his favorite thing a few months ago. Now it feels like that's the last thing he wants. I turn my head away from his to hide the hurt, but then his free hand is on my chin. "Hey, that was ill-timed. I didn't mean it the way you're thinking. You mentioned sneaking out, and my mind went to the text my dad sent me earlier. He told me to keep an eye on you tonight because a drifter has been spotted around town in the last few days. I didn't want you climbing out of your window in your pajamas. I'll come to you."
His eyes slowly flick between mine, checking to ensure he's eased my concern. "Okay, but don't come because I want you to."
I should let it go and take his words for what they are, but I can't. I'm feeling a lot of insecurity. Life after graduation is intimidating. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. High school relationships are not the same as adult ones. Sure, some people marry their high school sweethearts, but many don't. I'm scared of finding out which one we become.
"I know you got accepted to Lindenwood." His eyes strayaway to the sky. "I spotted your acceptance letter peeking from beneath your history book last time I was in your room." When my mom agreed to relocate for my education, I broadened my college search—mostly for show. Deep down, I wanted to follow London, though Mom insisted I apply to Lindenwood after she caught me researching their campus and programs. "I don't want you to prioritize me over the future you want for yourself."
"You're part of my future," I say softly but surely. "I thought I was part of yours too."
He jumps down off the tailgate and pulls me to the edge. "You're the only future I want, heartbreaker. Don't ever think for one minute I want anything or anyone else. It was you from the second you said, "I'm going to marry you one day."
