I look into his eyes. They’re wary and uncertain. I don’t say anything for a moment. The cold, closed-off Will starts to reappear. I see him shifting his shield back in place.

“When we were fifteen,” I begin.

His eyes narrow.

“Why did you really kiss me back?”

He lets out a harsh puff of air. He looks as if he’s struggling with whether or not to tell me.

I run my fingers over his hand. He lets out another breath and when he looks at me again, his eyes have thawed.

“Because you were the closest thing to heaven I’d ever felt and I didn’t want to stop.”

My heart flips over in my chest. His lips curve into a small smile.

“You’re not…” I pause, and clear my suddenly dry throat. “Why?”

“You’ve always been my friend,” he says. “Even when you didn’t know it.”

“Yes,” I say, and he understands.

He leans forward and takes my lips. I gasp as his mouth meets mine. He threads his hands through my hair and pulls me closer. He groans deep in his throat and the sound vibrates through me and reaches low down so that I lift my hips toward him.

He swears against my mouth, and I nip at his lips.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he breathes.

I reach up to stroke his shoulders. He grabs my wrists, leans me back to the grass and pins my arms over my head. He places his legs over mine, pinning me to the ground, and sets his mouth to mine.

I fall into the rhythm of his body rocking against me. His tongue strokes my mouth, his hips run over me and his length strokes my clit. I struggle in his grasp. I need my hands to pull off my shirt, to take off his. I want to touch him.

“Let me go,” I say.

He pauses, then releases my hands. I smile and drag his shirt up over his chest. His eyes go dark with surprise, then want. I lean up and pull my shirt off, then my bra. My breasts bead and ache in the open air. Will lets out a hard breath and moves his hands to cup them. When his thumbs rub over my nipples, I gasp and arch toward him. His eyes spark like he’s found a new hobby and he strokes me again. I cry out. He bends and pulls a nipple into his mouth. He grazes it with his teeth. I rock up against him. I send my hands over his muscular back, his shoulders. I tug at his hair as he teases my breasts with his mouth.

“Will.”

He stops then. Goes completely still and quiet. Then he looks up at me and a strange light enters his eyes.

“Say that again,” he demands.

“Will,” I whisper, tasting his name on my tongue.