It was just me and Valentine. Swaying to music I couldn’t even hear.
I couldn’t hear anything but her voice as she murmured against my chest, “This is nice.”
It was more than nice.
It was right.
Perfect.
I tightened my arms around her waist and fantasized we were here together. That we’d just met at school like any two normal kids would.
“Are you excited about college?” Val suddenly asked.
Part of me was. Instead of BU, I’d gotten into MIT because going to a private academy had its advantages. MIT had one of the best schools for architecture in the world. Sometimes I couldn’t believe it. It was a partial scholarship. The Fairchilds were paying the rest. I’d promised I’d pay it back as soon as I could after school.
Another reason their daughter was off limits.
“Well?”
While yeah, it blew me away to be attending MIT, I was going to miss Cupid like fucking crazy. Not being able to walk down the hall, knock on her door and just sit and talk shit for hours about everything and nothing. To make her laugh whenever her parents were coming down hard on her. To make her whole face light up when I praised her newest creation.
To feel her with me when my mom screwed up and had to go back to rehab for the hundredth time. To have her just lie with me and not say a word because she knew all I needed was her next to me.
“Let’s not talk about it. I’m all talked out about it.”
Her fingers stroked down my nape and I shivered as she whispered, “Okay.”
It was tempting to take hold of her hands and put them somewhere else, but that was useless. Wherever she touched me would go straight to my dick. I was eighteen for fuck’s sake and in love with her.
Thinking about how things could be between us if life had turned out differently, I asked, “What would your dream date be?”
Valentine lifted her head to meet my gaze. She seemed surprised by the question. “My dream date?”
“Yeah. Not who or anything like that.” I didn’t want to know that shit. “Where would you go? What would you do?”
She bit her plump bottom lip. I glared at it. Wanting it.
Finally she released it and melted into me with a laugh. “You’ll think it’s cheesy.”
“No, I won’t.”
Her dark eyes warmed. “No, you won’t, will you?”
“Cupid?”
Her eyes drifted past me as she smiled and confessed, “My dream date would be… okay, so I saw it in a movie and I thought it was so simple but really romantic. And perfect. This guy turned the rooftop of his city apartment into a wonderland. There were fairy lights strung everywhere, vases of flowers, flower petals, candles flickering in the dark. And in the middle of it all was a picnic. Music playing in the background.” She shrugged. “How romantic to be up there in a city of millions but feel as if you’re the only two people in the world. Hanging out in the stars with the one person you want to be with most.” Her eyes returned to meet mine when she said the last.
And I swear my heart stopped.
“Yeah,” she whispered, “The one person you want to be with most.”
Valentine was looking at me like she wanted me to kiss her.
Shock, thrill, anticipation all blasted through me at the thought of her reciprocating my feelings.
Mostly, I couldn’t stop staring at her mouth and thinking how I could almost taste her.
My need for her short-circuited my common sense.
I bowed my head toward her and I felt her body press deeper into mine as she rose to meet me. Her mouth was almost on mine. Just one more breath—
“There you are!” Alison’s voice was like an explosion.
Valentine and I practically jumped out of our skins. Dazed, I dragged my gaze off her to find my date at our side with Graham. Val’s date.
“Can I cut in?” Graham glared at me before turning to Val with a smile. He was pulling her across the dance floor before I could stop him.
Then Alison wrapped her arms around my neck like Valentine just had.
It didn’t feel the same. Her touch didn’t zing through my blood like bliss.
My attention returned to Cupid.
Our eyes met as she looked past Graham’s shoulder.
“So that’s why you don’t date anyone seriously,” Alison said.
Reluctantly, I turned my attention to her. I was being a dick to her, wasn’t I? “Sorry?” I vowed to focus on her for the rest of the night.
She grinned, but there was a tinge of sadness to it. “You love Valentine. I always kind of suspected it, but that moment between you was so hot there’s no denying it now.”
Her words were like ice through my veins. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t, Micah. Look, only Graham and I noticed. And I won’t say anything. You can’t be with her. I get. The Fairchilds have done a lot for you.”
I frowned, extremely uncomfortable to have something so private known by anyone.
Alison leaned into me. “You know my mom remarried last year, right?”
Confused by the random change of subject, I nodded.
“Well, the guy she married has a son. He’s a freshman at college. And I have a whoppingly large and uncomfortable crush on him. Crushing on your stepbrother? Not cool. And never gonna happen. So I get it.” She gave me a commiserating look.
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Me too.” Her arms tightened around my neck. “But that’s why we have each other. To distract us from who we really want and can’t have.”
Sadness overwhelmed me and I buried my head in her neck, holding her closer.
Maybe I should be more excited about college. It would get me the hell away from the torment, and maybe I could finally get over Valentine.
4
Micah
AGE 19
* * *
My palms were sweating.
I clenched them into fists and told myself to toughen up. Ye of so little faith. I wasn’t going into battle. I was finally letting myself lose a battle I should never have been waging.
And I couldn’t believe it was Mom of all people who made me see things clearly.
But last year my mom had worked really hard to stay clean after rehab. Caroline practically forced her to stick with it, and that woman could be the most stubborn person on the planet. Sometimes that was an outstanding quality, say, for helping someone like my mom deal with an addiction. Not so great for supporting (or not in this case) her daughter.
Valentine.
The person I was on my way to see now.
As soon as she hit eighteen, Valentine moved to the city, got three jobs, and started renting an apartment with a friend she’d met at a flea market two summers ago. Star. Star was flaky and smoked a lot of jay. I worried Val couldn’t depend on her. But Valentine was a little defensive about her so I kept my mouth shut. She was getting enough crap from her parents about her life choices on a daily basis. She didn’t need me doing it too.
There was part of me that was a little concerned that Valentine was drifting through life, but I continually reminded myself that she wasn’t me. She didn’t need to know what her future might look like. There was still time for her to find the thing that made her happy. I thought she’d do something with her clothes designing, but so far she was bar tending, working in a chocolate shop, and answering customer service calls for a small internet start-up.