“I want you…” I say when our eyes meet again—this time, his undeniably broken. The red is more defined, and his lids are heavy. His mouth pulls down at the corners, but his lips part in a desperate breath, the first sound of my name escaping in a whisper, “Li…”

  His fingers graze along my chin, tipping my head up more until his other hand finds the other side of my jaw. His thumbs sweep away droplets of rain from my cheeks, and his head falls down to meet mine.

  “I don’t know how to care about anybody but myself, Lily.” The heat from his breath warms my face and my mouth aches to meet his.

  “That isn’t true, Henry. I know it isn’t because you care about me,” I say, and his body shakes under my grip. I slide my palms up his chest to his neck, finding his jawline and running my thumbs along the edge. He turns his head enough to kiss the inside of my wrist, and my eyes fall shut at the feeling.

  I’m dreaming. This must be a dream.

  His head turns in my hold and I lift myself on the tips of my toes as he brings my mouth to his, inches turning to dust in a swift motion. His mouth closes on my bottom lip with a rushed and needy taste, holding on and sucking me in while he steps forward a few more inches. I walk back under his lead, moving from the force of his kiss, and we dance like this in the rain between bolts of lightning.

  Henry’s hands push my wet hair back and he cups my cheeks and covers my mouth completely, his tongue takes possessive passes against the soft skin of my lips. I let him devour me, learning with every movement of his mouth against mine. I’ve only kissed two boys in my life, and they were both seventh-graders who wore retainers. This kiss is different. It’s my true first.

  Henry’s mouth dips to my neck, kissing the area where it curves into my shoulder as his hands weave through my hair until they’re locked down in soaking wet, golden strands. He backs away enough to look down at me, his thumb wiping away the water collecting on my forehead before kissing there.

  “She won’t allow this, Lily. None of it, and I don’t know how to be anything else,” he says, rocking me slowly and holding me tight. A flash reflects off his eyes and the corresponding crackle makes me jump. Henry pulls me tight in his arms, but keeps my chin turned up against his chest so he can hold onto my gaze.

  “I wanted this,” I say, throwing his words back at him. “This was for me.” I lick my lips, feeling them tingle as my mind catches up to what just happened.

  “Okay,” Henry nods, resting his head on mine again. His thumbs make small circles along my jaw and his lips open just enough to kiss the bridge of my nose.

  “This is what you wanted,” he breathes out, and somehow, even though I’m right where I wanted to be, I start to question everything.

  CHAPTER 14

  I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, even though Henry and me…kissing—that was a big deal.

  He walked me to my dorm, up the stairs to my floor, and kissed me again in the freezing concrete stairwell for another thirty minutes. Not just the everyday, oh-they’re-a-couple-now kisses either. He pressed my back against the door, and framed me between both of his arms, working my mouth in every single direction until I knew Nicki was going to start to wonder where I was. She’d texted a dozen times.

  My lips were raw. I didn’t know raw lips was a thing.

  Nicki did.

  She never teased. In fact, she never actually spoke the words out loud. She just gave me this look, like the one Alice makes when she knows Collin and I are lying about drinking the last soda or eating donuts from his restaurant. It’s wisely suspicious, and if Nicki hadn’t already toughened me, I probably would have immediately broken under the pressure of her leer.

  But she did. I have graduated from the Nicki Roman School of Resilience, and for nearly a month, Henry and I have snuck out to meet on his rooftop every night without Caleb or Nicki or any of our friends uttering a word about it.

  “They all know. You know that, right?”

  Henry slides into the small space between the utility wall and the edge of the roof, his legs wide for me to sit between them. It’s October, and the chill has come to the city. I’m not sure where we’ll hide after this month. Perhaps we won’t anymore.

  “I know they do.” I kneel down between his knees and turn so my back rests against his chest and his legs tighten against my thighs, his arms around my stomach like a safety belt. Henry’s mouth finds its usual spot at the curve of my neck, and just as it has for days, the skim of his lips against me causes goosebumps to rise all over my body.

  I giggle and lift my shoulder, squeezing at his chin. His warm breath laughs against me.

  “Always so ticklish,” he says, a low growling kind of whisper.

  He nuzzles into the crook of my neck and breathes out, shifting his arms and legs a little to hold me closer and keep me warm.

  “I told Caleb.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed at his confession.

  “Why?” I whine.

  “Because it’s weird not telling your roommate that you’re sneaking out to hookup. And he knew. You know they all know, Lily.” He chuckles and I flush.

  I’m not sure why I’ve been so insistent on keeping Henry and me a secret. I don’t see him much during the day, so keeping our nights private hasn’t been hard or felt strange, really. At first, I was afraid of hurting Ava’s feelings, and facing Nicki’s ridiculing and teasing about how it’s “about time.” Anya would be honest. She’s the one who I really don’t want to know because she might tell me that he’s using me just like he does every girl he’s made out with or “hooked up with”—his words, actually.

  But I know this is different. It’s lasted. A month! And there’s just something about our conversations up here between all of the kissing and touching. Henry shares things with me, and I feel…important. Even if it’s only to him.

  “What did Caleb say?” I run my hands along Henry’s arms then tuck them under his hands to stay warm.

  “He said they all know,” he laughs.

  I fold into him a little, sad that my bubble—our bubble—is bursting. He leans to the side and turns my chin to him, though.

  “You know I’m not ashamed of you, don’t you?” His eyes grow heavy with his question, and my breath catches.

  “Well, I didn’t really think that until you said that word, but—”

  He grimaces, bunching his face and shaking his head slightly.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not…ashamed. Lily, you’re fucking beautiful. And really…” His mouth twists. “I don’t give a shit what people think. That’s maybe the one good quality Elena gave me. I know it’s arrogant sometimes, but it’s also comforting as hell not to feel like you have to pretend.”

  My eyes move to his lips, wanting him to just kiss me instead of talk about this more. He eventually leans down and dusts his mouth against mine, suckling on my top lip in my favorite way. He stops suddenly, though, pausing with our mouths attached until my lip slips free.

  “You give a shit what people think.”

  My chest curls in on itself a little and he lifts his head enough to peer down at me with hurt eyes. I swallow, because now that he says it out loud I realize how shitty it is of me. I’m the one that’s not all in with this.

  I feel guilty under his stare, but no words are coming to me. Eventually, his expression lifts the slightest bit and his head falls against the side of mine as he wraps me up tightly again.

  “I get it,” he says, mouth right at my ear. His breath is heavy and drawn out, strangled by the burden of being him. “This way…if you get hurt, at least nobody will have to know.”

  My lip quivers instantly and I tuck my chin. He’s right.

  Long seconds tick by without a breath from his chest. It doesn’t move where it meets my back, and his hands stay still and flat over my own. His mouth is silent as he’s frozen with this reality, and I mentally prepare myself for him to tell me how I’m right, how he is a risk because he could never feel anything that I do.

  Not for me.

  And then…

  “I won’t hurt you, Lily.” His chest finally fills. His grip tightens and his mouth tucks back into the hidden space beneath my ear. His lips part for a whisper. “I’ll try really hard not to. I don’t want to, is the point. I don’t want to, I don’t want to…”

  I know his words should comfort me, but my chest squeezes with an ominous sense. I know that he hasn’t told Elena. We both know better than that. Her judgment on how close we’ve become is already apparent every single time I see her. It’s in the small ways she makes note of how I look at him.

  “You’re quite fond of him, aren’t you?” she always says. I never give her a verbal answer. Normally, it’s just a polite smile so I don’t give in to her trap, not that it stops her from making more digs.

  “He’s just so charismatic. Girls have always been attracted to him, even when he was a child.” She added that one last time, when I suspect she sensed I had some envy over other girls. She’s manipulative that way—finding tiny threads to pull until my armor unravels.

  “If I didn’t come to Elena’s to play the piano over the summer…”

  Henry shifts to look at me while I talk, so I lean forward and turn slightly to face him. His face is curious, maybe a little cautious.

  “Maybe I could just travel up here, I mean. To practice. Would you…” I leave it open-ended because there are plenty of words to fill in that blank.

  Would you still listen?

  Would you find a way to see me?

  Would you care?

  “I would come here every single day.” His answer is swift.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes, Lily! I would come here right from the office, and I’d make you stay longer, come up here to our place with me. We could watch the sunset and look at the stars and…” He leans forward and runs his nose along mine gently, a guilty grin stretching across his lips before he kisses me with them.

  “Lily, I love watching you play. I really do. And you’re getting so good. You’re better than me now. God, that first day! Remember how I played the piano?”

  “I thought you were amazing,” I say, the goofy grin tickling my cheeks.

  “You just thought I was cute,” he says with a tilt of his head. Arrogant and adorable. “I was awful. I know, like…six chords.”

  He takes my hands, urging me to my knees in front of him as he places my hands on his chest. He spreads my fingers out and looks down.

  “You can play Chopin.” He runs his thumbs over my knuckles, and I fan my fingers along his chest, then play what I remember of the most recent piece I’ve tried. I’m not nearly as good as he says, but he seems so convinced and that makes me think maybe I’m better than I say.

  My fingers drum along his chest while his hands hover just above them with the occasional light, feather touch.

  “What is this called?”

  His lashes are like deep flecks of gold as he looks down at his chest. I love looking at him from this angle, the playful tinge on his lips and new stubble aging his young cheeks. He smells like aftershave sometimes when we’re up here on the rooftop. I like it.

  “Polonaise-Fantaisie,” I say, drawing the word out with a curl to my tongue. Henry’s face lifts and his eyes glimmer, narrowing on my lips first, then lifting to my gaze.

  “Can you play that for real?”

  I move my hands to the right along his body for a run, then lift briefly and move back to the center to tap, just as I would on the keys. My teeth grip my top lip and I shrug.

  “I’m working on it. I’m not smooth yet, but it’s getting better.”

  I keep thrumming my fingers on his body as I stare at him, but eventually his gaze begins to make me flush, so I look back to my hands. His cover mine when I do, flattening them against his chest and bringing them together so he can hold on with his right hand and move his left to my chin.

  “I’d like to hear it tomorrow.” His eyes penetrate, and while I know he truly would, I also know that he isn’t thinking about the piano anymore.

  I nod lightly.

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  Leaning forward, my mouth finds his, and he opens for me just enough to let me slip my tongue inside. I’ve gotten daring with him, with how I am when we make out. So many things he had to show me the first few times, like how to sit together so our mouths fit just right, or when to kiss hard and when soft.

  Before Henry, my kisses were by lockers around the corner from busy hallways or outside playgrounds that I had long outgrown. I know he’s had many kisses like ours before, but I’ve never let that bother me. He’s kissing me now. And he kisses me often.

  Last night, his hands held my thighs and he cupped my ass while I straddled his lap. I liked the way it felt when his grip was firm, and I’ve been thinking about him doing it again all day.

  I lift myself up on my knees and bite on his bottom lip, giving it a soft tug that brings a smile to his lips against mine that I can’t help but mimic. His right hand lets go of mine as I brace against his chest, and he runs them both along my hips, looping his thumbs in my jeans teasingly. His fingers curl, the nails scratching against the denim as they flex and crawl to my hips then ass, finally pulling me to him so his chin is flat against my ribs as he looks up under the cascade of my falling hair.

  I giggle and sweep my hair over one shoulder so I can see him better.

  “I had such a mad crush on your hair the first time I saw you,” he admits, reaching up with one hand to grab it like a rope where it lies on my shoulder. He squeezes it then lifts it and lets the strands spill out of his fingers.

  “Really?” I blush.

  “Oh God, yeah. You’re like this…California blonde,” he says, a deep and raspy chuckle in his chest.

  “Surfer girl?”

  I’m coy.

  He stares up at me for a few seconds until his crooked smile forms.

  “Yeah,” he hums, bringing his head up to face my chest and sweater. He opens his mouth and bites a few of the threads, pulling it up a few inches with his teeth as he looks back up at me. “Surfer girl,” he muses.

  I lick my lips. I think I know what he’s insinuating, and I’m all right with it. I just don’t know how to encourage him to continue inching up my sweater and the shirt that’s underneath. I bite at my lip and stare down at his eyes, glancing toward my chest then back to him. He repeats his pattern, biting more of the fabric and bringing it higher again, this time his hands lowering back to my hips and sliding up underneath.

  My breath holds when I feel his fingers graze along the side of my ribs. This time when he looks up to me for permission, I lift my chin and close my eyes, more swept away in the moment.

  His fingers travel higher, thumbs just under the lacey band of my bra, and they draw along the sides a few times, testing me. His thumbs run over the fabric next, making wide circles that get tighter and tighter until they reach the very peak of my breasts.

  “Ah,” I slip out. My body shivers in response, and Henry does it again.

  My chin falls down just as his lifts until our eyes meet, his with question and mine begging. One pass of the tip of my tongue along my bottom lip is all he needs and soon his hands begin to gather my shirt and sweater together at the bottom, lifting up my body as I raise my arms and let him pull them over my head to discard to our side.

  It’s a new bra. I bought it a week ago when I was home for the weekend. Collin needed to buy new serving pants for work, for his promotion, and I picked up a few things. I knew Collin wouldn’t ask because he liked leaving girl stuff a mystery with me. I wanted one grown-up, nice thing…for a moment like this. And I am so glad that I got this bra.

  It’s pale pink, see-through lace everywhere, which means Henry’s eyes are about to see more of me than I’ve shared with anyone—ever. His fingertips trail down my back first and I sit back a little, getting braver with every heartbeat. His mouth practically pouts, the way his bottom lip falls open, hungrily.

  His hands begin to circle around to my front, tracing along the sides of my bra until his palms are flat along my ribs as he faces me. He draws a slow path upward, covering lace slowly, thumbs running along the hard pebbles underneath them on their way to the straps of my bra. In sync, each hand slips a band over my shoulder, and as the straps begin to slide down my arms, I reach behind myself and unclasp the back. The lace falls slowly, and Henry doesn’t miss a single movement it makes.

  He doesn’t look up to me this time. His eyes steely and focused on my bare skin, dark-pink nipples and rising chest. He leans forward in one breath, his mouth covering my breast as his tongue swirls around the peak, and he pulls it into a hard suck that makes me squeak in pleasure.

  “I’m going to leave a mark on you,” he says, glancing up and drawing a tiny line with his finger along the soft flesh of the inside of my breast. “Just a small one, so you’ll remember me being here.”

  His right hand moves to my other breast where he pinches, then softens my pink skin with his thumb, kneading it while his mouth suckles kisses all around my chest. My head falls back and I grin at the sky with closed eyes, almost unable to believe that this is me, right here and right now.

  When Henry leaves his mark, I feel it bruise under his lips, the pull hard and raw on my skin. He presses his fingers on the spot when he’s done, then wipes his chin, proud of his work. His eyes find mine, and he pulls me into him, hands digging into my back pockets as I straddle his lap, heat between my legs.

  “Naked surfer girl,” he whispers, laughing lightly when I bunch my lips at him and scowl teasingly. He tips my chin up with his thumb and draws my face close, kissing me slowly at first, then exploring my mouth more with his tongue. My lips will be pink and raw again, to match other parts of my body. I’ll have to fess up, which is fine. I’m proud of the marks he leaves behind.

  “Lily!”

  Alice’s voice cuts through my fantasy like lightning. I flatten against Henry’s chest, and his arms wrap around me tightly as we both jerk our heads to the side. My…aunt…is standing with her arms crossed and a hardness to her jaw that I’ve never seen. Nicki is standing a few feet behind her, and when I spot my friend, my heart cracks open with betrayal. She shakes her head, fervently, and begins to repeat “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but she was pounding on our door. She was looking for you!”