She looked down, smiling and not seeming to know what to say. I saved her the embarrassment by changing the subject again.

“How was the wedding dress thing?” I asked.

“Boring. Lizzie kept talking about her cleavage. How was the fishing trip?”

“Really nice, actually. I learned all the stereotypes about people from Alabama aren’t completely false.”

Pearl covered a smile. “Don’t let those two give Alabama a bad name. It’s a beautiful state. We’ve visited several times. My cousins are just… unique. They’re also from a really remote small town in the mountains. They hardly ever get out.”

I held up my palms. “No judgment here. I like those guys. They’re hilarious.”

“They are. Just make sure you don’t ever let on to them that you’re not treating me right. They can be super sweet unless they think someone isn’t treating their family well.”

“Yeah, I gathered that from our conversation at the bonfire.” I took a sip of my wine, sitting back and taking in the scene. I could see the mountains from the window with the silvery moon and stars behind. “It feels like this whole thing is going by so fast.”

“I know,” Pearl said. “Before, I thought I would want to get this all over with. Weddings have never really been my favorite thing. I know some girls want a picture perfect wedding. Something like what Lizzie has here. I’ve always just wanted a backyard wedding. Private with no guests. Just me and the groom.” She smiled and laughed at herself. “At least, that’s what I used to want before I decided I might never have that future. Maybe I’ll just get a bunch of cats.”

“You said you thought you would want to get this over with before. What changed?” I asked. Dangerous question, Dean. I knew what I wanted to hear, and I knew why I should be hoping she didn’t give me what I wanted.

Pearl met my eyes and didn’t respond right away. “You happened,” she said.

29

PEARL

Dean was kissing me as we backed through the door to our room. I had my hands in his hair and could taste the sweetness of the ice cream we’d had on his tongue.

“What are we doing?” I breathed.

He kicked the door closed behind him. “Something stupid. Again.”

We kissed more, stumbling backwards as I pulled Dean’s jacket off and tossed it on the dresser. “Are we sure we should do this?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “But I know I need you. I fucking need you, Pearl. Even if it’s temporary. You’re all I think about. Taking you again. Tasting you. I can’t control myself around you.”

“Good,” I said.

He pushed me down to the bed and peeled his shirt off, ripping a few buttons in the process from the sounds of it. He had his slacks off and boxers with them in moments.

“Take your dress off for me,” he said, standing tall and proud over me in his nudity. There wasn’t an ounce of self-consciousness from him, and why should there be? Every inch of him was perfect, sculpted artwork. The lamplight behind his body cast him in silhouette except for a bright yellow outline that highlighted the dusting of blonde hairs on the sides of his bare torso and powerful legs. He looked so perfect it hurt.