No Tomorrow (All the Tomorrows, #1)

by Carian Cole

“Reading books and watching movies are my escapes. You don’t want to know how many times I’ve watched Titanic.” “Ahh.” He smiles and nods. “Devastation masked in a love story. I see the appeal.”

“I thought you looked way too young to be driving, and I wondered if you could even see over the dashboard.” “Really?” I ask, offended and humiliated. “You’re going to be one of those people who make fun of my height now?” I’ve heard it all over the years. Pipsqueak, Shorty, Tinkerbell. And let’s not forget Pussypuker, which has nothing to do with my height and everything to do with my supreme awkwardness.

Me? I never feel content. There’s always that feeling that there’s more out there I need to see. More people I need to meet. More things I need to do. It haunts me.” “You’re restless.” “Yeah. I want it, though.” The grip of his hand on my waist brings a dull pain, and I realize his fingers are directly over the fading bruises from the night under the bridge. A wave of heat warms my inner thighs. “I want contentment,” he says.

“I’m sure you’ll find it.” I hope he finds it right here in this tiny town, with me. “Hope so. Otherwise, I’ll be wandering forever.”

“I have something for you,” he says with his hands still on my waist. “It’s just something I made when I couldn’t sleep and was thinking about you.” “You were thinking about me?” He kneels and opens his duffel bag. “I think about you a lot. Why does that surprise you?” “I don’t know. No one has ever told me they were thinking about me before. I thought I was just… un-think-about-able.” He studies my face as he stands. “That’s fucked up.”

When I pull up in front of the abandoned house at the end of the dark street, I can’t get out of my car. The invisible hands of common sense and logic grip me, trying to force me to spin the car around and go back home. I almost do. But then I see him walking down the driveway toward me, a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, untied boots thudding on the asphalt with that sexy, confident walk. And then that smile. It’s that magical smile that’s sexy as hell one minute and adorable the next that’s going to be my undoing. He opens my car door and leans his arm on the roof as he peers in at me. “You coming out of there?”

For Piper, keeper of my heart, you’ll always be my ladybug. Don’t give up baby, I took a walk, but I didn’t run away.

“You look like a pack mule!” I say, running over to take the drinks and the brown bag from him as he steps inside. “This is for you.” He hands the bear to Lyric, then extends the flowers to me. “And these are for you.” “I love bears!” Lyric announces. “And Mom is always saying she never gets flowers like all the ladies at her office do.”

Blue leans down to plant a kiss on my heated cheek. “I’m glad no one is sending you flowers,” he whispers. “They’re beautiful,” I reply. “Did you find the house okay?” “Yeah, no problems at all.” He sweeps his gaze across the living room. “This is nice. You always have the nicest colors. All my walls are white.” “We learned in art class that white is the absence of color,” Lyric says, and Blue nods. “I’d agree with that.”

“We should get married.” My breath catches in my throat, right beneath that sensitive spot his mouth is covering. “Wh-what?” “Me and you,” he whispers, nudging the fabric of my shirt away with his face and dragging his lips to my collarbone. I am utterly, without any doubt, shocked speechless. I raise my hand and touch his head, threading my fingers in his hair as he continues kissing me like he didn’t just drop a huge bomb on me. My brain fights through the tremors spreading through my body from his touch. “Blue...do you have any idea what you just said?” “Mmm,” he hums, lifting my shirt and kissing my breast through the thin white lace of my bra. “Evan?” This is a conversation that might require his real name. Finally he looks up at me, his blue eyes smoldering. “I fucked this all up, didn’t I?” “I guess it depends on what this is.” “This is me trying to tell you I want to be with you forever.” I sift his hair through my fingers and search his face. “You used to be afraid of forever.” “You’re right. I’m not anymore. Now I’m afraid of not having it.” “So am I. You kinda kept taking my hopes for a happily ever after away.” His jaw muscles twitch. “I’m trying to give it back.” “I know,” I say softly. “And I love it so much. I just think we have to take things slow.”

She was the kind of girl you kept. She was forever. My forever.