She smiled down at me. I was in a daze. I barely knew where I was. "Holy shit," I finally mumbled. Tenleigh laughed and leaned in, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"No wonder people lose their minds over sex," she said. "That was incredible."
I laughed. God, I wished I could teach her everything there was to know about how great sex could be. I wished I could let her teach me everything about how great sex could be. Because I was somehow sure it would be with her. I sobered. Unfortunately, that couldn't happen and I needed to keep reminding myself of that.
I rolled to my side and so did Tenleigh until we were facing each other. I ran my finger down the side of her face, tracing her delicate cheekbone. "Are you warm enough?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Hungry?"
She nodded.
"How about I put that ham in the oven? I have some potatoes. And some canned green beans."
She smiled. "That sounds like a fine Christmas dinner, Mr. Barrett."
"Well good, Miss Falyn. Come on. Bring that quilt with you."
We got up and I went to the bathroom to clean myself off and returned to the bedroom to put my jeans on. The house was cold, but not frigid. Still, thankfully, I had some coal for the cast iron stove in the living room. I'd get the house nice and warm for tonight, even if it meant I'd be cold for the rest of the week. She was worth it. Only this girl.
I went about the business of getting a fire going as Tenleigh settled herself on the couch, the quilt wrapped around her and the glow of the lights from the small Christmas tree on her face.
I put the ham and potatoes in the oven and went to sit next to her as dinner cooked. Just for tonight, I was going to allow myself to enjoy the gifts of Dennville, Kentucky. After all, it was Christmas.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tenleigh
We ate dinner sitting on the floor in front of the wood stove in Kyland's living room, our plates on his coffee table. Food had never tasted so delicious to me in my entire life. His house was warm, my belly was full, and I felt genuinely happy. Maybe I shouldn't let myself be so joyful, but I couldn't help it. I could accept that Kyland was leaving soon. I could accept that he wouldn't look back. But was I going to be okay if I got any closer to him? Probably not. But something pulled me toward him, something I had trouble resisting, something that felt so good, I didn't want to resist it. I finally understood the pull. I finally had an inkling of what my mama and my sister had felt—and I finally understood why Marlo didn't want to experience the pain of having it end. And in my situation, I was assured—over and over as a matter of fact—that it was going to end. And maybe that was better. At least I wouldn't be blindsided when he packed his bag and left. I'd have time to prepare. But if I won that scholarship, we'd both be packing our bags . . . but still for separate lives. And yet I still wanted to be here with him. Was I wrong to feel like it was worth the pain later for some happiness now, no matter how temporary it may be?
"Now who's the one with the intense expression?"
I startled and looked over at Kyland and then started laughing.
"I'm breaking my own rule." I breathed out another small laugh.
Kyland chuckled and then paused. "I'm really glad you're here. In case you're wondering. This day has been . . . incredible. You're incredible. I want you to know that."
"Why does it sound like you're kicking me out?"
Kyland shook his head. "On the contrary. I'm hoping you'll stay. I'd really love it if you’d stay with me tonight."
"I'd like that, too," I whispered. Kyland let out a breath and smiled as if my response was a relief.
There was a knock on his door and we both looked at each other, confused. Kyland paused as if considering whether he'd answer or not. But then we heard the unmistakable sound of a banjo outside his door. I started laughing. "Oh God, the moonshine is flowing."
"Oh shit," Kyland said, laughing, too. He walked to the door and I got up, pulling the quilt around me. I wasn't properly dressed, but if I knew the group of hillbillies outside his door right now and their love of moonshine, they wouldn't notice.
Kyland swung the door open and we stood there laughing and listening to a band of drunk hillbillies perform their own version of "Jingle Bells," playing banjos and homemade instruments and singing in loud, cackling voices. They were awful and ridiculous. Mostly because they were rip-roaring drunk. I couldn't stop smiling. They were home.
Old Sally Mae, who had all of three teeth left in her mouth, took Kyland by the arm and executed a rowdy two-step with him, whipping him around and causing him to laugh out loudly. My heart clenched at the look of open happiness on his face. And for a moment, the world slowed until it was only him, laughing and linking arms with Sally, the expression of joy on his face increasing as he spun her around, doing a gentlemanly bow at the end as she curtsied and flirted. I leaned on the doorframe for support.
They offered us a swig of moonshine from their jug and I took a couple burning sips of what tasted to me like battery acid and coughed as Kyland did the same, grimacing and wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Then they danced off down the snowy road, their clanging music disappearing into the clear, cold night.
Kyland closed the door and reached his hand out to me and I gripped it, still holding the quilt around me with the other. He twirled me around once like he'd done to Sally Mae and I giggled and fell into his muscular chest. He had the most beautiful body. It was muscled, but lean, his shoulders broad and his waist narrow. It wouldn't be mine forever, but I was going to enjoy it while I could.