The glorious summer sun sets over the buildings, the rays casting shadows in every part of the apartment.

“I’m kind of going to miss this place.”

“You could stay, you know.”

It’s the first time he’s mentioned me staying, but it’s not like he’s asking. Asher hasn’t begged me to stay, and I haven’t offered it. There was an unspoken agreement this summer not to speak about the future. About what came next.

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, Frederick.” I saunter over to where he sits on the couch, the TV playing some soccer game on the opposite wall.

“Do you want anymore of this before I put it away?” He points to the Indian food sprawled out on the coffee table.

It’s our weekly Friday night takeout date, and I’m sad it will be our last. I leave for Pennsylvania tomorrow, and I push the thoughts out of my head, trying not to let them cloud our last night together. The past two months have been wonderful, and my heart squeezes at the thought of not seeing Asher every day.

But I know I have to go.

“No, I’m full. It was delicious, per usual. I brought a little something special.” I walk to my bag and pull out the bottle I’ve been keeping in there.

“And here I thought you don’t drink, love.” He smiles that crooked, cocky smile.

“Well, I thought that it was a little celebration.” I set the bottle of champagne down on the table. “Plus, you know that I do like a little bubbly every now and then.”

It’s amazing what a couple of months can do. When I first met him, he’d been power-hungry and into the scene, going out and causing havoc. Now? Most nights Asher and I just hang out at his apartment, go out to dinner, or go to the theater. We never party anymore, acting more like a middle aged couple than the freshly minted nineteen-year-olds we are. But I guess that’s what crisis and growing up was all about. Asher hadn’t been acting his age for years, too old for an innocent life. And I … I was thrust into growing up. With the press and what happened with Mom and Bennett … I had never been irresponsible, but the past year had really made me start seeing things in a new light.

Asher pops the top and pours us each some champagne in two coffee mugs. He may have a trust fund and an apartment in Chelsea, but he sure is the eternal bachelor. Plates and a comforter from Primark and coffee mugs are his only source of housewares. It’s charming and so normal, it still makes me smile.

“That is some good champagne. You must be rich.” Asher grins over the lip of his mug.

I snuggle into him, relishing the feel of his arms. “I’m not, but I know someone with great taste.”

We sip our champagne, holding on to each other like we’re scared the clock will hit midnight and one of us will turn into a pumpkin.

After a while, the bubbles invade my brain, bliss spreading over my bones. I don’t want to talk anymore, and Asher can sense it. He takes the glass from my hand, and sets it down on the table next to his.

Gently, he holds his hand out to me and I take it, and together we walk to his bedroom. The simple queen bed sits against the wall, unassuming. A sadness sweeps over me that it may be the last time I sleep next to him, but I push it aside.

We meet in the middle, our lips seeking each other, trying to express everything we can’t say in this moment. Our bodies melt together, doing the things we’ve learned how to do expertly.

Each touch, each taste, awakens the part of me that only Asher knows how to speak to. My core ignites when he pulls the straps of my romper down, pushing the material past my hips until it pools at my feet. Once his hands start to explore, I can’t help but ache for the touch of his skin against my own fingers. His shirt is there and gone in a second, both of us helping to take it off.

Once we’re skin-to-skin, it’s as if the gun has gone off and no one is waiting for the sprint to the finish. We may be going slow, but nibbles and sucks and strokes are everywhere. Each piece of my flesh lights up as he plays it like a finely tuned instrument. And in turn I key him up, cataloging every noise and reaction, storing it away for a rainy day.

The covers are pulled back and hot skin meets cool sheets. The creak of the bedside drawer has my core blushing, knowing what’s coming. And then he’s over me, his eyes holding the things we don’t say. All of the love between us gets trapped between the blankets, swirling around and igniting our bones as he slowly slides into me.

Our gasps mix in the air, colliding as our hips meet and retreat, meet and retreat. This isn’t sex, this isn’t craving another body. Tonight is charged with emotion. Asher rocks into me slowly, our hands never parting and our eyes never breaking.

When we finally reach the edge, a tear rolls down my cheek. Something is slipping right through my fingers, and I can’t grab hold.

So I pull Asher as close as I can, memorizing his scent, his feel, his face in the moment that he unravels. A new chapter is beginning, one where I’ll have to leave him behind. And while the future is bright, it is also bitter.

I let myself fall asleep in his arms, reveling in the last moments of summer and Asher.