Emyln

Something is bothering Hains. That much I know as I pull him down beside me. His arm instantly wraps around my shoulders and he pulls me close so my head is resting on his shoulder. I hear him sigh. Something is bothering him. Badly. Or else he would be talking to me about anything and not leaving me in this comfortable silence.

"Are you okay?" I ask quietly.

My boyfriend doesn't reply to me for the longest time, so I take the time to memorize what being this close to him feels like. Things are looking bleak for the portfolio I sent to the University of Ottawa. I know mail can take a long time to make it to its destination, but I'm getting antsy. I feel like I should have heard something back by now. I haven't even gotten a call regarding Hains, let alone a letter of acceptance or one that declines us a future we really deserve.

"I'm okay," he finally replies, sounding exhausted. "Just got a lot on my mind right now."

"Like?"

I don't know if he realizes it, but he starts to run his fingers up and down my side, from just above my ribcage to the top of my hip. I shudder. My pyjamas are thin, so it almost feels like he's touching my skin. "Summer's going to end soon and you're leaving," he says quietly.

I try to ignore the jab of pain that throbs in my stomach, but I can't. The sadness in his voice is distinct and raw. I don't want to leave him again. It's the last thing I want to do. It's just...I can't give up on the spot I've worked hard to earn at the university. "I know," I whisper. "But we're going to make it work."

I tilt my face up to look at him. He's got his eyes shut, lashes tickling his defined cheekbones, and he's facing the ceiling. The soft glow of the lamp gives me enough light to see that he's chewing on his bottom lip. It's something he does when he's thinking deeply. I know something else is bothering him, something that goes deeper than me just leaving. For a moment I wonder if he's still mad at me for leaving, but then I realize that if he were, he wouldn't be with me right now. I begin to list off the possibilities: he could be mad at something I said, he could be having problems with his dad that he doesn't want to talk about, or maybe he had a disagreement with his mom.

"Hains?" I ask, rolling over and propping myself up on my elbow.

"Yeah, Ems?" he replies, opening his eyes and looking at me.

Did I ever mention what his eyes do to me? God, they're so beautiful I could just stare into them for hours. I mean, nobody else has grey eyes like him. They're smoky with a hint of silver. So unique.

I rest a hand on his chest, drawing small circles with my nails. "I know you're keeping something from me." He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up my hand. "Let me finish before you say anything. I know something is bothering you, and if you're not ready to tell me, then I'm okay with that. What I did to you...I don't know how you found it in you to forgive me." I sigh and rub my temples. "What I'm trying to say is that I respect your space and I didn't come back here expecting everything to be perfect between us. So I get why you're not – "

He steals my last words with his mouth, and my brain can't seem to process what's going on. There's no mistaking this kiss for something simple and friendly. This goes way past the girlfriend-boyfriend thing. Hainsey Blake Stone is kissing me like he wants more. Well, he's trying to kiss me, because I'm frozen and shell-shocked.

And when I finally adapt to the shock, when I realize this is what I've wanted more than anything, he pulls away.

"Shit," he says, shaking his head. Strands of hair pattern his forehead. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – "

I grab the collar of his shirt and wrench him forward, stealing his words like he stole mine. I rest my palm against his cheek, stubble scratching my skin, and chuckle when I realize he's now as frozen as I was. While part of me thinks I've somehow screwed this up – he should be kissing me back by now – the majority of me knows it's just a reaction.

Hains moves in quickly after a moment, cupping the back of my head with one hand and wrapping an arm around my waist as he kisses me. His tongue slips across the seam of my lips, taunting me, urging me to open for him. I do, and he sighs against me, settling into this slow, hypnotic kiss that makes my mind spin and my insides ignite.

The nerves in my body are thrumming with energy, waking up every part of me, making my skin itch for his touch. I tug at his navy blue sweater, wanting it off.

I want his shorts off, too.

I want my pyjamas off.

I want to feel every goddamned inch of his hot skin against mine.

In the background, I hear crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves, but most of all, I hear our heavy breathing.

"Are you okay with this?" he rasps against my mouth.

"Yes."

"How far do you want to go tonight?"

I tug at his sweater again. "Take this off."

My response is good enough for him because, without hesitation, his hands leave my body to reach over his head and smoothly peel off both layers of upper body clothing. The dim lighting makes his abs look more defined, adding layers upon layers of shadows to every dip and hardened ridge. He looks so beautiful I have to stifle a groan.

Hains grins, his eyes twinkling as he watches me blatantly gawk at him. "Better?" he teases.

I manage a nod, and then I'm laughing at myself. It's ridiculous how stupid and shy I become around him – I've known him since we were kids. What the hell is wrong with me?

"C'mere, Ems." He grips my hips and pulls me over top of him so my legs are straddling his thighs. The movement is so quick that I almost lose my balance. I'm intent on dropping my hand down to his stomach to steady myself, but he moves at the same time, hoisting himself up so his back is pressed against the abundant hoard of pillows I have.

So my hand lands about seven inches lower than I intended.

I know I should withdraw my hand from its current position, but I can't seem to do so. The feel of him, of how much he wants me, is hypnotizing. I swallow thickly, unable to avert my gaze from his shorts.

"Shit," I say after a moment of staring at him. I quickly withdraw my hand. "Shit. I am so sorry."

I also put in the extra effort of getting off and lying down beside him. "Oh my God, Hains," I ramble. "I am so sorry – I didn't mean to touch you there. I was off balance and then you moved and I had been aiming for your stomach. I swear."

"I've been lying to you," he blurts. "About my mom."

My embarrassment fades. So it was something with his mom that's been bothering him. I turn to face him, expressing how concerned I am by reaching out and gripping his hand. "What's going on?"

Hains sits up and turns to face me. "The reason I haven't had you over to see my mom is because..." He trails off and looks at the ceiling.

I frown, a sinking feeling clawing the lining of my stomach.

He sighs, and then looks me directly in the eye. "Ems, my mom has been addicted to heroin since my dad left and I've been enabling her – getting the drugs, paying for them, and all that shit. That's why I don't have any money for college or university – I've spent it all on heroin, not the divorce. Nobody knows about this except Val and, well, you." He gives me a bit of a sheepish look. "That's also why I go out so late at night. The running thing was a bullshit lie."

Okay. Wow. I was not expecting that.

I blink at him several times as my brain processes what he's just told me. At first, I'm pissed off at him for keeping it a secret from me for so long. I actually have the urge to slap him across the face and yell at him to get out of my house. But that only lasts for a fraction of a second. The next wall of emotions hits me hard, and I feel this crushing weight over my heart. It's painful to hear how rough things have been for Hains – worse than I originally understood. On top of that, I have so many good memories of his mom. I never ever would have expected something like this. I feel a tear slip down my cheek.

Why does life have to be so difficult for us? Were we put on this planet to suffer? Hainsey doesn't deserve this kind of shit. He's a good guy that's been thrown into situations he shouldn't have to face.

Before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around him and pull him into the tightest possible hug I can give. His muscles are tense for a moment, but he eventually sags with relief and hugs me back.

"I am so sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Ems. I was scared of what you'd think. I know I shouldn't be enabling, but it was the best option I could come up with after mom declined getting any help. You know? I didn't want my mom out there on the streets, sleeping around with random men to get money for the drug or some other fucked-up shit like that."

I nod my head. I understand what he's saying. Even though my relationship is rocky with my mom, I still care about her enough to know that I'd never want her to do that. "It's okay, Hains," I whisper, doing my best to stop the tears from taking over. I always knew Hains was strong – both mentally and physically – but I never realized he was this strong. I can't imagine what it's like to deal with someone with an addiction. Especially someone you love. All I can do is admire him for being able to keep his head held high and continue living life. For doing the best he could, considering his age and situation. "Baby," I continue, "we're going to figure this out. I promise. We'll get your mom the help she needs. My dad – he's dealt with stuff like this before. He'll know what to do."

If all the tension wasn't out of his muscles before, it is now. "Thank you," he whispers.

"Hey," I say, pushing him back. He's desperately trying to prevent himself from crying, but a single tear slides down his cheek and I brush it away with my thumb. "Take it from someone who knows, Hains: We all make mistakes and the best thing we can do is try and fix them."

"It's just been hard," he whispers, shaking his head.

"I know," I reply, laying my palm against his cheek. "But everything's going to be okay. I love you Hainsey Stone – everything about you. And no matter what, I am going to help you get through this."

His nostrils flare as he breathes deeply. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"Why? What for?" I ask, worried that he's going to shut me out.

"For pushing you away and not opening up sooner. I should have told you after we made up in the cabin."

"It's okay," I murmur. "You told me – that's all that matters."

"I won't do it again," he promises, dropping a kiss on my lips. "And Ems?"

My eyes flick up to his.

"I love you, too."

Heat washes up and down my body in waves. Yeah, he's said those words to me before, but there's something even better about this moment. Maybe it's because his hands are caressing my bare legs or because we're inches apart and my hands are placed on his bare chest. We've not yet been fully skin-to-skin, and Hains reads my mind. He pushes me back and lifts the hem of my pyjama top, tossing it to the floor before wrapping me in his arms and pulling me down to the mattress. I lay beside him, my skin burning as he begins to trace every line of my body with the tips of his fingers.

I do the same to him, drinking him in, every line, every contour, from the broadness of his chest to the tight knots in his shoulders to the small freckle on his left pectoral. My fingers trace his defined jawbone and then I kiss him, wishing I could erase the pain of everything he's been through. I wish I could erase all the scars on the inside.

When I pull away for a breath, Hains rolls me over onto my back and pins me there, looking down at me. His eyes are clouded, dark, and he looks like he's trying to hold himself back.

I don't want him to hold anything back.

So I grip his hips and pull him down, catching him off guard so all his weight is on me.

"Ems – " he starts to say, trying to lift off of me.

I cling to him, refusing to let go. "I want you," I say.

I see the look of conflict pass through his eyes; the internal battle he's having with himself on whether he should give in or not. So I speed up the decision by pressing myself against him.

It works. He groans and drops his weight back on top of me, reuniting our lips in a passionate kiss. His tongue searches my mouth until my head is spinning and my body is burning. When his hand brushes the side of my breast, I jump because I'm so on edge. Through the kiss, I feel him smile. And then his hand moves further, sliding down my bare skin until I feel his fingers graze the waistband of my shorts.

I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering how close he was in the staff room. "Keep going," I rasp.

He doesn't hesitate. His hand slips past my shorts and my underwear, and I arch my back, raising my hips off the mattress. My breathing begins to come out in short bursts.

Hains nibbles on my bottom lip, and then I feel his fingers make contact with the spot that's aching for him, his thumb circling on the outside. I gasp, gripping his toned biceps. We've never done anything like this, but he knows where and how to touch me. And it feels so good – so damn good that I can't stop myself from moaning. He smiles again and that's when I realize I should be doing something for him, too.

So I reach for him and feel the shudder pass through his body when my hand makes contact beneath his shorts. He lets out a soft curse, and it's my turn to smile. It's good to know that he doesn't have as much control as I thought, that I'm not the only one that's feeling these intense emotions. I press harder and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his forehead against mine.

In the next moment, it becomes frantic, desperate. Our hands get tangled as we pull each other's shorts and underwear off, and then his fingers are exploring again, touching me in ways I've only ever imagined in my wildest dreams. Then he begins to draw a trail of kisses down my neck, the valley between my breasts, my stomach, and then his mouth is where his fingers were moments ago.

"Hains!" I gasp.

Within seconds, I'm on the edge. Hains, however, stops, expertly reading my body. It frustrates me. How dare he tease me like that! I try to wriggle out from beneath him, but it's no use – all those years of hockey have paid off and given him the upper hand in this moment. But I'm not going to let that stop me from getting what I want.

I take him in my hand again, catching him off guard this time, and using his shock to my advantage. I flip us over so I'm on top. It's my turn to explore his body with more than my hands. He tries to protest against my motives, but eventually gives up. What can I say? When I know what I want, I go for it.

Tauntingly, I kiss all the way down his body, teasing him the way he teased me. His fingers dig into my thighs as I do so, until, with something that resembles a growl, he throws me off of him, rolls me onto my back, and takes his place above me, nudging my legs apart with his knee.

Excitement and longing and passion fill me – I want him so badly. I'm aching for him I want him so much. I have for years and I can't believe this is happening right now. So it's no surprise that when he presses his chest against mine and kisses me, I whimper.

He starts to move, taking us one step closer to what I've been wanting for weeks, but then he stops.

"Shit," he curses.

"What?" I ask, hoping and praying that he doesn't end this.

He shakes his head and lets out a frustrated breath. "I don't have anything. And as much as I want to do this with you, I can't get you pregnant."

Nervously, I reach into the drawer of my nightstand, never taking my eyes off of his face; I watch as his eyes widen at the never-opened box in my hand. "You might not, but I do," I say. God, I feel like an idiot for doing this.

He blinks at me. "You bought condoms?"

I feel my cheeks burn something fierce. "Uh, yeah," I say. "I had been planning on, well, y'know...after dinner on your birthday, but things don't always go according to plan. Everything seemed perfect on that couch and I didn't want to ruin it. I get why you just wanted to fall asleep beside me at the cabin – there's something magical about just being together."

Hains smiles at me and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. "I love you, Ems."

I smile back and get to work on opening the box. When I've pulled out a condom, Hains takes it from me and rips open the packet. When he's done, he hovers over me, looking down. He reaches out and traces the shape of my lips, watching in wonder as my breathing picks up again.

"I love you, too, Hains," I breathe.

And then he's inside me, pushing into me gently, slowly, so slowly.

He kisses everywhere he can – my neck, my face, my lips as he pulls out and pushes into me again, still gentle as gentle can be, but a little faster. I wrap my legs around his waist to pull him in further – I can't get enough of him and the feelings he's causing me to have. As I wrap my arms around his neck and thread my fingers in his messy hair, I lift my hips, spurring him on.

Everything from the level of emotion to the pace to how hard he drives into me increases, but his touch stays gentle.

As if it would matter, though – what's happening right now is making me lose my mind. I can't speak. I can't think. I can't figure out where he ends and I begin. After all the books I've read, I thought I'd be prepared for this. But they don't even compare or come close to what I'm feeling right now. This is way more than sex.

I can feel myself beginning to lose control, and so can Hains because he shifts his weight so he's pressing into me at a different angle – one that makes me cry out. Somewhere, in the midst of everything, his hand finds mine and he laces our fingers together, squeezing tightly. I squeeze back.

When I do lose myself to him, I tug at his hair as I moan his name. A couple seconds pass, and then he comes undone, his body shuddering against mine. He collapses down on top of me and I hold him close, both of us sweating, shaking, and breathing so hard we're basically panting.

The sheets are tangled, pillows are strewn around the bed, and I want to freeze this moment forever. I don't want anything to change; I want to lie like this, holding him, being held by him.

But some things just can't last forever. Hains rolls off of me and gets off my bed to head for the bathroom so he can dispose of the condom. I close my eyes while he's gone. I feel like I'm high. I can't stop smiling and enjoying the aftereffects of us expressing our love to each other.

When he gets back to the bed, he shuts off the lamp and then pulls the covers over us, pulling me against his chest. His arms wrap around me, and he holds me like he's never going to let go.

"You okay?" he whispers, kissing my earlobe.

I nod, snuggling closer. "Better than okay," I whisper back.

He smiles, and then we both burst out laughing until tears are running down our cheeks. When I first arrived home, I never thought I'd make it this far with him. I thought he'd push me away for good and tell me to never come back. But here we are, both hurt and scarred from the decisions that were made around us, finding a small bit of happiness in this fucked-up world. And it is kind of funny when you think about it.

"God," he says after we've calmed down. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

"I can guess," I say, smiling at him through the darkness.

He lets out a relieved sigh and nestles closer to me.

As we lay here, exhaustion begins to take over my body at a high rate. "Hains?" I murmur before sleep can take hold of me.

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding just as tired as I feel.

"Sorry if this ruins everything, but we're going to sort out this mess with your mom. I promise. Your battle is my battle, and we will fight together."

He chuckles and kisses my cheek. "Ems, nothing could possibly ruin tonight. I love you and nothing will ever change the way I feel about you."

I tighten my arms around him and snuggle closer – if that's even possible.

No matter what life throws at us, we're going to get through it. Hains and I – we're perfectly imperfect. After all the shit we've been through, our lives are imperfect. But the thing that makes us perfect is our ability to make better choices than our parents did. We won't complicate things like they did. All we can do is love each other and offer the support we need – it's as simple as that.

Eventually, the sounds of crickets and leaves rustling fill the bedroom, lulling me into a deep, peaceful sleep in the arms of the man I love.