8 Years Ago (the summer after senior year)

"Your body was made for me," Hunter growls into my ear. Steam rises from the hot springs and the water gently laps at my shoulders as his arms encircle me, cupping the fullness of my curves. Up here on the ridge overlooking the town, it's quiet except for the bubbling of the water and the chirping of the birds.

"I'll make you filthy for me, ruin you for every other man," he whispers. My nipples pebble with desire, small pink buds straining through the wet fabric of my t-shirt. There's no one else for miles, but he whispers to me just the same, secrets that blow away with the wind.

19 years old, his jaw is hard and outlined, darkened with the five-o'clock shadow of a man twice his age. His features are gorgeous, symmetric, and his black hair is swept back in waves. He's strong, his dangerous physique built from layered slabs of muscle constrained only by tight blue jeans. His shirt lays crumpled on the rocks nearby, our chests separated only by the soaked, thin fabric of my shirt. Hunter's pearl teeth show through his thick, delicious lips as they part. His face is a storm cloud, dark and lusty.

"I want you to ruin me," I whisper back. My voice trembles like the gentle rolling waves of water. "I need you."

Even through his blue jeans, his hardness pushes against my stomach. My core fills with heat, and I press myself into him.

"Tess," he says, gazing into my eyes, "You're the fucking best I ever had. You know that, don't you?"

I nod. "And you're the best I ever had."

His gaze falls and his hands brush up my sides, against my breasts. Then they fall again and I lock my fingers in his. My heart beats like a drum inside my chest. I feel like something big is about to happen. I feel like he's going to ask me—

My thoughts crumble as he presses his lips against mine. Every thought I have, except of him, is deleted into nothingness.

Ever since I first met Hunter at a house party here in Maple Ridge, I was ruined for everyone except him. I couldn't keep my eyes off him any more than a bee can keep itself off a bed of flowers. His perfect body, his tall, muscular frame. And the unshakeable confidence and ease he carried with him everywhere he went.

He started talking to me between classes, at the regional high school ten miles out of the small town of Maple Ridge. It started like most high school romances, friends with murky boundaries, ill-advised wandering hands, lips sneaking kisses during afternoon adventures.

We went together like whiskey and wine, but once we were mixed, there was no separating us. And that was almost two years ago.

Nobody ever thought that any girl could tame the intense, strong Hunter Thorne, but somehow little old me, Tess Cassidy, had done it.

As he draws his kiss away from me, a lump rises in my throat. I try to temper my excitement, but I can't help wondering—is he finally going to propose?

"Tess," he says, his foggy eyes storming.

He inhales, and so do I.

Then he speaks. "I'm… leaving Maple Ridge."

Suddenly, I feel like I can't breathe. My foundation just bottomed out, my bridge collapsed into splinters. It would have shocked me less if he'd reached out and slapped me across the face.

"W-what?" I stammer.

"I'm enlisting, Tess."

Ever since his dad was killed in action almost six months ago, he hasn't been his usual self. But we talked about it, and I did what I could to help him. In these last few weeks I thought he was starting to feel better.

I shake my head, and a little space forms between us as if someone rolled up a car window between our bodies. "This is a joke, right?"

"No," he says, and his face leaves no room for denial. "I'm not such a fucking asshole that I would joke about that with you."

Tears well up inside me, but I fight them back. "But you just told me—all of the things you just said—"

He exhales, sharp and heavy.

I shake my head because I'm at a loss for words. "I can't believe you would bring me here like this."

"Like what?"

"Like bring me up here, to our spot, and whisper all those things in my ear, and make me feel like you were going to propose."

"Propose?" he says, bewildered. "We just graduated high school. Three months ago. I brought you here 'cause I didn't know how else to tell you."

My sadness flashes to anger, then back to sadness, like lightning strikes that turn a night black sky white hot. "But, our future together," I say, my voice trailing off.

"We have our whole lives ahead of us."

"This is about your dad," I say.

"Yes."

"You should think about this first."

"I have."

"Really?"

"It's the right decision."

"What about me?"

He holds my head in his hands, running his thick, talented fingers through my wet hair. "I can't stay tied down to this small town forever."

I hate every last word he says. I start to cry, and he brushes my tears off my cheek with his thumbs. "Stop it," he says.

When your high school sweetheart wants to become strangers with you, nothing is alright.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it doesn't budge. "Okay," I say. "This is okay. This is fine. I'll go with you. They'll have apartments, and—"

Hunter shakes his head a determined no. "It's not like that, Tess. I could be deployed, and we'd have to get married, and I'm not ready for that."

"You're an asshole," I say, trying unsuccessfully to dam up the tears. They splash into the water of the hot springs.

"You're emotional right now."

"I'll wait for you."

He shakes his head again. "I don't want you to wait. You can't."

"What do you mean I can't?"

"I know you, Tess. You won't be happy. Your calling is to open your restaurant. That's what matters the most to you."

"You matter to me."

"What did I fucking tell you," he growls. "You're the only girl I think about. Your mind, every inch of your body, your tits, your gorgeous fucking pussy. They all belong to me and I'd fucking kill another man for touching you."

"So how can you leave?" I sniffle. "Those are lies."

"No," he says, pulling me tight against him. I'm starting to sweat, and I feel faint standing in the hot springs like this. "Not lies. Life."

"I'll wait for you anyway."

"Tess," he begins, but I wiggle out of his arms and clamber up out of the pool. I grab one of the towels we brought with us, and wrap it tight around my body. I'm not cold at all. I'm just trying as hard as I can to block out reality right now.

Hunter sighs and follows me out of the water. Instead of drying himself off with a towel, he just wipes the water off his body with his hands and lets the sun do the rest of the work. The sun is already starting to set, but its light rays reflect off of the water droplets on Hunter's skin. His perfect, flawless skin.

"Sorry, doll," he says simply, putting an arm around me and pulling me in as I stand huddled beneath the towel. "There was no right way to tell you this."

I shake my head, as if I were in disbelief, but I'm not. If there's one word that describes Hunter Thorne, it's "decisive." When he makes up his mind, there's no changing it. And as much as I want to plead and beg with him to regain his sanity, I know deep down that he's perfectly sane. High school romances rarely last. Everyone says it. Everyone told me that, and I didn't listen. Now I'm paying the price.

I break away from him again and sit on a rock. He's like a Greek statue standing there, or a romance cover model. "When are you leaving?" I ask.

He looks me straight in the eye. "Tomorrow."

It should be another cyclone that tilts my reality, but I let it sink in, like the truth it is. "Wow," I say. "Twenty-four hours notice." I can't help but notice the doubts creeping into my mind. Maybe he just doesn't feel the same way about me. After all, if he did, he wouldn't be able to leave so easily.

But it doesn't matter anymore. Last time I lost someone important to me, when my mom died when I was a kid, I stayed angry about it for a long time. It accomplished nothing. The least I can do is not repeat the same mistake twice.

"Alright," I say, willing myself to accept the situation like I'm some kind of Buddhist monk. "Your mind is clearly made up, and I'm not going to be able to change it. Then let's enjoy the rest of the time we have together."

He swoops down to the rock I'm sitting on, catches my cheek in his hand, and kisses me deeply. His tongue swirls on mine, brushing against my lips, and I try as hard as I can to memorize his taste. To remember it for as long as I can, before time sweeps it away forever. That's one of the things about life. What's most important to you one day, can sometimes be nothing more than a forgotten memory in the future.

"Help me up," I say, and I lock fingers with him. He pulls me up and my towel falls onto the ground, exposing my braless, wet t-shirt silhouette to Hunter. His eyes sweep up and down my body.

"I'm yours tonight," I say, resigned to embrace reality. "All of me."

A deep rumble escapes his chest, an animalistic sound of desire. "I'm taking you," he says. "There's nowhere I'd rather be tonight than inside you."

Hot arousal threads through my muscles, and I ache. For him, and for the future that we won't get to spend together. "There's nothing that I want more," I say.

We leave our stuff where it lays next to the pool, and we hike up toward the peak of Maple Ridge. The sun is setting, the air cooling. Twigs and dried leaves crackle under my shoes as we follow the footpath up the hill, and the dry air blows easily through my t-shirt and shorts, passing through the fabric like it's nothing, like I'm naked.

For Hunter Thorne, I'll always be naked. My body and my mind.

When we reach the ridge's peak, there's a clearing with a rusty old swing set, a slide practically guaranteed to give a kid tetanus, and a few flat-cut tree stumps cut as seats. Below, our sleepy little town of Maple Ridge patiently awaits the moonrise.

Hunter sits on one of the tree stumps, and I straddle him, swinging my leg over his. I face him, and feel his lips tickling mine. His hard cock strains against me, and I palm it through his pants, stroking it softly. He groans softly and bites my lip.

"Your body is mine tonight," he growls. "For the last time."