In three days I was due to fly home. But I couldn’t. Not now. I would move my flight forward to after Armie’s funeral. And I would stay and support Heath. He was still my best friend and I couldn’t leave him to face this on his own.

The sun had set by the time I climbed out of the tub and wrapped myself in a towel. I intended to wait for Heath, to be ready to offer him the support he needed when he came home, but after changing into a cami, sleep crept up on me and I fell into a deep well of dreams.

When I woke up the room was a pool of shadows and lamplight. Heath sat on the end of the bed, his head in his hands. Pink Floyd’s ‘The Wall’ played softly from the iPod dock. Good Bye Cruel World.

I crawled across the bed to put my arms around him.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.

He shook his head and his chin quivered. He wouldn’t look at me. His brows were pulled in and his mind seemed so far away. He still had his car keys in his hands.

“How are Armie’s parents?”

It took him a moment to answer. “Devastated,” he choked, and when he raised his eyes to look at me I could see the pain in his eyes. His face was a thin mask of control and it was about to break.

“It’s okay now. You don’t have to be brave anymore Heath. It’s just me here. You can let it out,” I said softly.

His tears fell quickly down his face and I pulled him to me. Today, when visiting with Armie’s parents, he would have been the strong one. Stoic. In control. A source of comfort. It was in his nature to lead and make sure the situation was well taken care of. But it would have drained him. It would have taken every ounce of his emotional strength to not fall apart.

Now he could.

He fell back onto the bed and pulled his forearms over his eyes. I went to the kitchen to get us a glass of wine and when I came back he was still on his back.

When he sat up again, he looked exhausted.

In the subdued light he looked young, boyish, more vulnerable than I could have ever imagined. Placing the glasses of wine on the bedside table, I knelt before him. I didn’t have any words. Words were pointless. But he looked so terribly sad and so devoid of hope that I had to give him a small ray of sunlight to hold onto in the darkness.

I tilted his chin so he had to look at me. The depth of the despair in the blue shadows wedged in my heart.

We held our gaze long enough for him to understand what I was about to do. His brow drew in and then smoothed again and I felt him relax a little.

The haunting strings of Hey You floated down from the speakers and filled the room as I leaned in and found his mouth with my lips.

He hesitated. And for a moment I thought he might pull away. But as my tongue slid over the delicate skin of his mouth, he groaned and his lips parted to let me in. Unsure at first, his tongue found mine and tangled in a gentle, familiar rhythm. Golden light filled my head, drugging my mind, as the sensations in my body collided with the melancholy magic of the music.

Heath pulled away and exhaled deeply.

“My head is so fucked up, Harlow,” he whispered.

I nodded. This would only make things better. Even if it was only for one night. It would be one night less of pain and grief.

With no words and without breaking eye contact, I rocked back on my heels and lifted my cami above my head. I was naked underneath, no bra, no thong, nothing but skin. Heath’s breath caught between his teeth, but he didn’t move. He waited, his eyes glazed over as they took in the image of me. All of me.

I walked on my knees until I was between his parted thighs and without words placed my hand on the base of his neck and pulled him into a kiss.

At first he hesitated. But with a sudden hiss of air he pulled me to my feet, his hands either side of my face as he kissed me, walking me backwards until my back was against the wall.

“Are you sure?” His eyes searched my face.

I nodded but he paused again and his beautiful eyes searched deep into mine.

“Harlow—”

“I want this,” I whispered. “Let’s just forget everything. For one night.”

He gave in then and his mouth fell to mine and his tongue filled my mouth. His kiss was desperate, a mix of grief and desire. We barely parted to shed his clothes. Then he lifted me into his strong arms and I wrapped my legs around him as he carried me to his bed.

When he sat down on the edge of his bed, I straddled him. My fingers curled around his jaw as I drew up on my knees and then very slowly slid down the length of him.

His eyes held mine but then closed with pleasure. His lips found my throat, his tongue sliding down the smooth plane of skin to the crook of my neck as he filled me. My head fell back. His touch was magical. Beneath me his body was hard and welcoming. He held me to him. His big hands pressed into my back and shoulders as I rode him. I felt high. Drugged by the intensity of the moment. Grateful for this moment where grief no longer existed. Only pleasure.

It felt amazing. Incredible.

Beautiful.

“Heath.” I said his name, even though I didn’t know why. Maybe because in that moment, all I knew was him and the brilliance of his body sliding into mine. And not far off on the horizon ecstasy was on its way. It wouldn’t take much to reach it. I was almost there. I sighed and Heath ducked his head to bury his mouth against my neck. We moved slowly then. Skin against skin. Limb against limb. His hands tangled in my hair. His soft lips warm against my neck. My body moving deeper onto him with every rise and fall of my hips.

There was nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

But him.

Us.

“You are so beautiful,” he moaned, his fingers sweeping along the length of my arm to tangle with my fingers. His lips sought out my mouth and I curled my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me.

It took me then. Completely. The feeling. The euphoria. Like a bright white light. I tilted my head back and gave myself to it completely. Another thrust. Another glide of his tongue against my throat. And we came undone together.

“Harlow,” he breathed desperately.

He closed his eyes and together we left that room. Gone. A moment in time away from the pain of our reality.

Afterwards we lay in silence. Naked. Entwined. Together. My love for him was abundant and I felt fiercely protective of him.

He looked at me, his beautiful face softened by shadow. We were face to face, our noses almost touching, our lips only a breath away. His tender fingers found the curve of my shoulder and gently traced lines and circles like a whisper across my skin.

“Please stay,” he pleaded softly, his eyes gentle. “Until we’ve buried, Armie. Please just stay.”

I nodded. “I will.”

He searched my face and I could see the sadness etched deep in the blue of his beautiful eyes.

“I don’t want to do this by myself,” he whispered.

“You won’t have to. I changed my flight, Heath. I’m staying an extra week.”

He pulled me against his broad, naked chest and his warmth was infinite. Only an extra week. Nothing more. Nothing less.

And no holding back.

Chapter Nineteen HEATH

There was nothing right with the world. That was my first thought when I woke up. But then I saw Harlow curled up beside me and the surge of grief receded briefly, until I remembered that she would be leaving soon too.

For a moment I let myself watch her sleep. For three days she hadn’t left my side and I had fallen deeper in love with her for it.

At first I’d been hesitant. Having her around but knowing she would leave was almost unbearable, but it was so much better than the alternative of not having her in my life at all.

She was my perfect fit. And I knew I would have to work out how to go on without her. But not until I’d dealt with Armie’s death and his funeral.