Why doesn’t he take me in his arms?

If he doesn’t touch me soon…

I break the kiss and stare up at him.

He cups my face with his palms. “I love you, Kaley. But we need to talk first.”

His voice is breathy. Ragged. Intense.

His words make me feel like crying. He’s such a good guy. Never unfair. But I don’t want what comes next for us, not if it’s not good. Oh no, not yet.

Tears sting my eyes.

Damn.

I don’t want him to see them. I wrap my arms around his neck and tuck my face against his shoulder.

“I’ll listen to everything you want to tell to me. Later. Just not now.”

“Kaley—” He groans and it sounds like he’s in physical pain. “Don’t think I don’t want to, but —”

I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Even if we’re over after we talk, even if all I get of him is this—him making love to me one last time—I want it.

I start kissing his neck, nipping and touching my tongue to all the spots I know get him crazy. My hand moves to his nape, dragging him back to my mouth, as my other hand slides down his torso to cover the glorious hardness in his jeans.

“It doesn’t matter what happens after we talk,” I whisper. “I won’t make it through today without being with you. Make love to me, Bobby.”

I can feel he’s struggling against me, but he starts touching and kissing me back. “We should talk first.”

“I don’t want to.”

I ease back so he can see my face and his eyes start to shimmer in response. In a flash I’m scooped up from the floor, and we start moving down a hallway, his lips trailing across my face as I’m lowered to the bed.

He covers me with his body and we are kissing and touching in the way two people who love and haven’t been together in too long do—as if we can’t feel or taste or get close enough to each other.

We pull off our clothes in a hurry and it still doesn’t feel fast enough. Not by a long shot.

I mold my body into him, feeding the starvation of my pulsing sex, brushing against his erection as I struggle to match the heated thrust of his tongue and the force of his kisses.

I hear the rip of a foil square and my eyes open to see him sheathing himself. I feel him searching at my entrance with his cock and fingers, and, without delay, he plunges into me.

A hoarse moan—need and relief—escapes with my rapid breaths as my body tightens around him. He needs to be in me. I need to have him in me. After four months our hearts and bodies are in sync without effort, the need to feel complete by being together beyond any other need in both of us.

My body races to match his thrusts. He is moving in me as if he can’t get deep enough. I arch my back as I lift my pelvis into him. I tense, everything heating and coursing through me at once.

I love him.

He still loves me.

Whatever there is left for us to get through, everything is going to be OK.

I can feel it.

For the first time in too long, I am complete.

CHAPTER 32

I lie with my cheek on Bobby’s chest, passion-damp and physically drained, my limbs pressed closed to his, savoring the feel of his fingers lightly brushing my flesh.

The hours have passed like it was our first time together in Santa Cruz. Intense, fiery sex. Total emotional and physical connection. Glorious climaxes. Complete contentment. Breathe. Breathe. Then it all starts back up again, as if we’re so hungry for each other, no matter how often we’re together, it’s never enough.

Us.

From the first touch.

Even still today.

I open my eyes and stare out at the balcony beyond the bedroom. It’s dark. I’m not sure what time it is. I don’t care.

The way we’re clinging to each other makes me anxious about what comes next and I can tell that Bobby is holding back the things he wants to tell me as if he’s not ready to go there either yet.

Maybe he’s debating if he should.

Or still wants to.

I’m not sure which.

I lift my chin and study his face. It doesn’t matter either way. There isn’t a chance I’m letting him go ever again.

I meet his gaze squarely. “You want to talk. Let’s talk.”

His arms tighten around me.

His lips touch my hair.

He lies back, eyes closed, and for a few seconds I’m in agony as I wait. “I love you, Kaley.” There is an edge to his voice—regret?—as if his feelings for me are warring with something he’s not sure he still wants.

“I love you, too.”

He lifts his lids and his pupils are dilated, filled with tenderness, want, and—yep—uncertainty.

“I only stayed in Southern California after graduation because of you. I couldn’t leave without talking to you first. Without seeing what was still possible between us.”

“Everything is still possible between us.”

“When the lease is up on this place, I’m leaving. I don’t know for how long or where I’m going or even if I’ll ever come back.”

My insides go cold as my heart thumps against my breasts so rapidly it’s painful. “Leaving? You can’t go. Not now. We’re together. Stay—”

The look in Bobby’s eyes kills my words.

His smile is a touch sad. “I can’t, Kaley. I need to do this now or I will never do it. I’m going to head out on the road. No destination. Travel from city to city. See things. Experience things. Try to figure out if anything out there feels right to me.”

No, no, no.

He can’t leave.

I roll off him and sit up. “I don’t know how you can think that’s more important than us.”

He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly. “I don’t know who I am, Kaley. Not really. I want to take off and see if something out there connects with me. Feels the way it should. Like a part of me that’s been missing that I haven’t known yet.”

He pauses for a moment as if he can see I need to catch up with what he’s saying. “I need to figure out who I am. You’ve only just started working through who you are. You still don’t know what having the truth about your dad means to you. And what it’s going to mean to your life.”

I brush at my tears. “I can’t believe you’re ending us again.”

His eyes widen as his gaze bores into me. “Ending us? That’s not what I’m saying. I stayed for you because I want you to come with me. I want us to figure all this out together. You and me. Like it’s been this year. The best year of my life. Like it should be always for the rest of our lives.”

With him?

Like that?

Just leave Pacific Palisades, our friends, our families, everything we know and everything familiar?

“You want me to come with you?” My mind is spinning. “How would we live? What would we do?”

He pulls me tightly against his chest. His arms are quivering and everything rushing inside him pulses beneath me.

He buries his lips in my hair. “It’s not like we’re broke, Kaley. I have money and so do you. We’ll live how we want. Do what we want. Stop where we want. You can film your documentaries. I bet there are hundreds of interesting films out there waiting for you. You can blog about whatever you want. And I can try to see if something out there connects with me.”

Connects with me?

Instant comprehension.

We are so alike.

Mismatched pieces.

In some ways perfectly matched.

In the important ways perfectly matched.

He leans in, brushing my lower lip with his before he kisses me. “Come with me, Kaley. You’re the only part of my life I can’t leave behind. The only piece of me that feels right. Take off with me. Be with me. Us. Loving each other, through anything.”

I want to say yes. It’s crazy how quickly the impulse in me to say yes screams from my core.

His mouth closes over mine, and we are kissing hot and hungry and needy again despite having spent all afternoon making love.

By the time he pulls back, I know what I’m going to do.