The Summer We Burned

nd everything smelled faintly of salt, coconut oil, and temptation. That morning should have been ordinary just another day of

ha

silence that used to taste like unfinished words on my tongue. He was the boy who had once been

orm I wasn'

sed to brush it back for him. His jawline was sharper, his presence deeper, and when those

o lower, rougher, like it carri

dy warming too qui

tracing me in a way that made my k

very glance burned. I had spent so long pretending that what we shared was just friendship, but in that mome

. I should have been with my friends, laughing, dancing, pretending to be untouched by his return. Inst

at the collar, the sea breeze tugging at his hair. H

is lips curling into a half-s

voice trembled, though the

y are yo

o matter how many times I told myself to move on,

I whispered,

lt air until I was dizzy. His hand brushed mine, not enough to hold, just en

ured, "I tried

nearly broke me

se eyes searched mine like they were

is mouth w

ps were fire, his hands desperate, pulling me against him as though the world would fall apart if he let g

owning, and the only oxyg

voice was rough, dangerous, tender. "Tell me this is wrong, a

use it wasn't wrong it was the on

t," I w

d at my waist told me he w

'll nev

roared, and for the first time in years, I stopped pre

mine again, hotter, deeper, m

uldn't have and everything we couldn't resist. The summer

the summer we burned