The Year We Hid Away (The Ivy Years, #2)

by Sarina Bowen

“Fair enough. But some things are beautiful whether or not you understand them.”

Scarlet gave me a smile — a big one, like the sun coming up over the beach.

And when the warm fingers closed around mine, I wanted to do a happy dance.

And when I laid her back on the bed, she reached for me, kissing me as though she was dying of thirst, and I was the last drink on earth.

It was a strange arrangement. But it was our strange arrangement.

Laughing, I caught Scarlet by the hips and kissed her, my mouth hot, the rain cool. The storm had chased everyone else away, leaving just the two of us there, lip locked, on the flagstone pathway. When I pulled her body in tight, she groaned.

Scarlet had velvet skin, the sort I could touch all day long and never get enough.

“For what?” I whispered. “For being your Tuesday and Thursday girl?” His eyes bored into mine. “For all seven days. Because I think of you on all of them.” He leaned down to give me one more kiss, then turned to go.

“Just be with me, okay?” “That’s easy.” I squeezed his hand.

“What I like is you.”

“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered, kissing her. But even to my own ears, the words didn’t measure up to the way I really felt. Every time she touched me, it felt as if she was saving me from something.

Then Bridger kissed me with lips so soft and gentle that it nearly stopped my heart.

“my dissonance craves your consonance.”

“I need you, Scarlet. Even when things are really ugly. Especially then.”