Praying for Rain by Easton B. B

Author:Easton, B. B. [Easton, B. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy, Contemporary, Romance
Goodreads: 44064905
Publisher: Art by Easton
Published: 2019-04-04T07:00:00+00:00

April 22

Rain

“That one looks like a cupcake.” I smile, squinting up into the afternoon sky.

Wes and I are lying on a red-and-white-plaid blanket in the middle of Old Man Crocker’s overgrown field, watching a parade of clouds float by. He pulls me into his side and kisses the top of my head. I feel it sizzle all the way down to my toes, like a bolt of lightning.

“You’re adorable … because that’s clearly the dog shit emoji.”

“Oh my God.” I giggle. “You’re right!”

“I know.” Wes shrugs, my head on his shoulder rising and falling along with the movement. “I’m always right.”

“What do you think that one is?” I ask, pointing to a human-shaped blob traveling by.

Wes picks a blade of grass and begins twirling it between his fingers. “The one that looks like a guy holding an ax over a teddy bear? Must be Tom Hanks. Fuckin’ asshole.”

I snort and cover my mouth with my hand.

“You know you sound like a pig when you do that?” Wes teases.

“You know you look like a pig when you eat?” I tease back.

“Guess we’re made for each other.” Wes lifts my left hand from his chest and slides the blade of grass he was playing with, looped and knotted to look like a ring, onto my fourth finger.

My breath catches as I wiggle my finger in the air, half-expecting it to glint in the sun like a diamond.

I prop myself up on my elbow and smile down at his beautiful face, trying to figure out how somebody who looks like he belongs on a poster in a teenage girl’s bedroom could possibly think he was made for me.

Wes props himself up, too, mirroring me, and places a sweet kiss on my grinning mouth. “I can’t wait until all of this shit is over, and it’s just you and me.”

He kisses me again, slower and deeper, sending a jolt of electricity straight between my legs that time. I don’t know if I pull him on top of me or if he guides me down, but somehow, I end up on my back again, this time with Wes hovering over me. His hair falls like a curtain over the side of his face, shielding us from the sun.

“I can’t wait either,” I reply with swollen lips and flushed cheeks. “When it’s all over, we should go find a mansion … up on a hill … and paint terrible portraits of each other all over the walls.”

Wes drops his lips to my neck, just below my ear, and whispers, “What else should we do?”

He kisses me there. Then, a little lower. Then, a little lower. The pillowy softness of his lips combined with the abrasive drag of his stubble causes my toes to curl into the blanket.

“Uh …” I try to think, but it’s difficult with Wes’s tongue sliding along my collarbone. “We should find a convertible … and clear the highway … and drive it as fast as we can.”

Wes makes his way over to my shoulder, sliding the spaghetti strap of my sundress down along his path.

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