Here With Me

In a flash he grasps my wrist, dropping his head back against the cab of that red Chevy, exhaling low. “Mindy… stop.”

I love it when he says my name like that, like he wants me. Stretching higher, I kiss his neck, tracing my tongue along his Adam’s apple. Salty.

“Stop what?” A smile curls my lips. I’m being bad, and I love it. I meet his darkened hazel eyes and whisper. “Let me put it in my mouth.”

“No… fuck.” He exhales roughly, and I rise up onto my knees, straddling him.

My hands are in his dark hair, an

d I curl my fingers. Sawyer LaGrange is the sexiest man alive, and I can’t wait for him to be my first. He keeps putting me off, saying I’m too young. But he kisses me like I’m a woman. The rough capture of his lips, the invasion of his tongue tightens my nipples.

Leaning forward, my lips brush his ear. “I’m seventeen now.”

“And I’m twenty-two. Your ma would kill me. Hell, I could be arrested.”

I rock my hips on his lap. Strong hands span my waist, but he hesitates, letting me move against him. My panties are drenched, and in this skirt, I could slide them to the side and slip him in. “Just the tip.”

His hands grip the sides of my face, holding it directly in front of his. Fire burns in his eyes, shooting out and igniting my body. His struggle is tangible. It’s the most thrilling experience of my life.

“No.”

My shoulders fall. I ache for him so badly, I want to cry. “What can we do then?”

He pulls me into a firm hug and speaks in my ear this time. “I’m taking you home.”

I’m off his lap, deposited in the passenger’s seat just like that. He reaches forward to start the engine, and I squirm in my place. My eyes are on him, but he’s looking straight ahead like always—quiet, focused, so controlled.

The muscle in his square jaw moves, and I trace my finger along the line. “Are you coming to my graduation?”

“What do you think?”

“Mindy?” Ms. Jessica’s ancient voice snaps me into the present.

I look around her small room in the Pine Hills Nursing Home where I work, blinking away the persistent memory.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Are you okay? Your cheeks are so pink!”

“Of course!” My laugh is strained, so I clear my throat. “You said Noel’s coming for a visit?”

“I asked what do you think about Isabel graduating.” The old woman grins like she can read my mind, which she can’t. “But yes, Noel is coming by this evening—why do you ask?”

Ms. Jessica is settled in her room, and I start for the door. “She wanted royal jelly.”

“From your mother’s bees? Oh, she must be planning a new face cream.” The old lady’s brown eyes light. “Do you help her?”

“With her cosmetics?”

The old lady shakes her head. “Your mother. With the bees.”

“Oh, lord, no. The one time I tried that, I got stung. I only do her labels.” I created the tiny yellow and black watercolor bee that became my mom’s Honey Farms logo.

“And you created Noel’s logo for her cosmetics… You’re so talented.”

I think about the simple line of a sun rising over trees I drew at sixteen when my best friend got the idea to start an all-natural skin care line based on peaches.

“It’s pretty primitive. I wish she’d let me redo it.”