Wes takes my hand and leads me into an open grassy area of the garden, in between the towering pink azalea bush and a low bed of day lilies. The music changes, from the soft jazzy background soundtrack that played over dinner, to a perfectly cheesy 80s power ballad. I giggle as Wes sets his hands around my waist. I loop mine around his neck and let my body lean against his.

We turn slowly in the grass, moving in time to the searing guitar solo. The lights twinkle above us and the silver stars sparkle and the whole moment seems to shimmer, like something outside of time and place. Something magical. Something perfect.

I look up to find Wes smiling down at me. For the first time all evening, he looks relaxed … and truly happy.

I lean in closer to him, reveling in the warmth and comfort of his body. The familiar plains of his chest, the bulk of his arms, the stubble of his chin against my skin…

The press of his erection against my stomach.

I grin up at him as I pull him closer, and he growls into my ear.

“Just creating an authentic prom experience for you,” he murmurs. “Because trust me, if we had been dancing together in high school, there’s no way I would have been able to control my reaction.”

I giggle, but a thrill of anticipation runs through me.

“I would hate for it to go to waste, you know…”

He growls again, nipping at my ear lobe. “Don’t tempt me. Unless you want me to fuck you in the grass right here, in front of everyone at the community center.”

He gestures back towards the center, and when I turn I find a group of people clustered at the door, watching us dance. Barb is there, one hand pressed to her heart as she watches us, and she gives me another excited wave. I laugh and wave back.

“Show’s over, people,” Wes calls out. “Nothing to see here.”

“Just came to let you know we’re all clearing out, Wes,” Barb answers. “I’m leaving you the keys here. Lock up when you’re done.”

I’m not close enough to see for sure, but I could swear she winks at him as she loops the keys over the stair rail.

“Did you enlist all of them in this little plan of yours?”

“Well, I am technically their boss now,” he grins. “Though actually, when I told them what I wanted to do, I suddenly had an army of very enthusiastic volunteers.”

I shake my head, laughing softly. “I still can’t believe you did all this for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, Rori.” His voice is serious again, his expression one of deepest reverence. He presses his palm against my cheek, forcing me to look up into his eyes.

“I love you, Rori Holloway.”

I suck in a short breath, then lean my cheek into his hand.

“I love you too, Weston Lake.”

His smile twists. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that. It was my grandfather’s name, you know.”

“It’s a nice name.”

“It is.”

“Now are you going to kiss me, or what?”

Wes growls, swooping his head in towards my mouth. His lips cover mine, and he draws my body closer to his. I lean against him and let myself be carried away by his embrace. His lips, his tongue, his hands, all of it takes me away. Wes and I together, sailing away on the wave of our forever love.

Because that’s how this feels. Eternal. Infinite.

I pull away for a moment, breathless. Wes frowns.

“What?”

“Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

He hesitates. I can see him thinking. Then he grins.

“At the Spirit Club bake sale, right?”

I laugh, nodding. “You bought my peanut butter cookies.”

“But you didn’t have change for my five dollar bill.”

“So you made me give you a kiss instead.”

“What? I thought that was quite charitable of me. It was for a good cause, after all.”

“The Spirit Club appreciated your contribution. But I think I appreciated it more.”

He grins. “Except then I had to spend the rest of the afternoon hanging around like a stalker, waiting for you to finish up so that I could ask you out properly.”

I laugh, leaning my head against his shoulder. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “I’m just sorry I did all that other stuff in between then and now.”

I pull back, studying his face. His beautiful, handsome face. His blue eyes look grey under the light of the twinkle lights, and there’s a hint of sadness in them. I kiss him softly on the lips.

“I’m not.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really. You’re the real estate developer — you should know this.”

“Know what?”

“That sometimes you have to tear everything down to build something better.”

He shakes his head softly. “I don’t think I could love you more, Rori.”

“I feel the same way.” I nuzzle my nose against the underside of his jaw, and then find his lips with mine again. We kiss for a minute — a long, dizzying, heart-stopping minute — and then I pull away again.

“Wes?”

“Yes?”

“I’m tired of dancing.”

His eyes blaze. “Me too.”

He scans the garden quickly.

“Don’t move.”

“Okay.”

I watch him bound over to the table where we’d eaten our meal of mac and cheese, then laugh as he yanks the white linen table cloth off, tumbling used cutlery onto the gazebo floor. He rescues the champagne bottle before it spills and sets it on the step of the gazebo for later. Then he returns to where I’m standing, brandishing the table cloth and floating it down to the ground in front of us.

“Come here,” he growls. I slip into his arms and he lowers me to the ground, holding himself over me. I press my palms to his cheeks and bring his lips down to mine.

We move together, his hands exploring my body as I tug at the tails of his shirt. I run my hands along the smooth plains of his abs, find the waist of his pants, move to the back to cup his firm ass as it flexes.

Wes kisses his way down my neck, across my collarbone, then pushes my shirt up and kisses a line across my stomach. The combination of his lips and the warm night air on my skin makes me shiver, and Wes pulls me closer. His skin is burning hot, flaming with desire.

He pushes my yoga pants down off my hips, and I kick them away. I don’t even care that we’re still at the community center, that there are neighboring buildings that might be able to see down into the garden. All I care about is Wes, about his touch, about being as close to him as possible.

“Please, Wes,” I whimper. He finds my part and I tremble as he strokes me. His fingers are deft, already knowing exactly the right way to touch me to set me on fire.

I fumble with his belt and he stops touching me long enough to help me push his pants down, and then we’re both naked from the waist down and our bodies are coming together on their own, already finding each other in the dark. Heat seeks heat.

“Do we need a …” he stops, forcing himself to pull back, even though he’s breathing heavily.

I shake my head. “It’s just us now, Wes. Right?”

“Just us,” he echoes, dropping his head to nip at my jaw. “Forever.”

He’s inside me then, bare and with nothing between us. It feels even more exquisite than I could imagine. His skin is soft and warm and he fills me with his hardness and strength. I clench my body around him and he groans, thrusting his hips against me.

Even through the linen table cloth, the ground is cool beneath my back. But above me, Wes is a furnace, molten lava. I cling to his heat, to his energy. We move together as one, until I can’t take anymore. I grab his shoulders and buck underneath him, whimpering into the empty night air as he kisses my jaw.

“Oh, God, Rori,” he groans. His hips slam against mine, driving his cock deeper inside me as I come. I cling to his frame as I feel him twitch and then surge inside me. We come together like that, holding on to each other and riding the wave of some infinite thing.

We lie there quietly afterwards, catching our breath and looking up at the twinkling lights above. Then I roll over to face him, propping myself up on one arm.

“Okay, seriously, did you make an entire playlist of these 80s power ballads?”

He chuckles. “Yes. Actually, I had Joyce do it. You should have seen her face. She said it was the strangest request she’d ever gotten in her forty years of working for corporate America. I still think she did a pretty damn good job, though.”

I laugh as I cuddle up against his chest. “She did. Thank you for doing all this for me.”

“Get used to it,” he whispers, his lips against my hair. “Because I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing things for you.”

“Do you mean that, Wes?” I feel so sleepy suddenly that I can barely keep my eyes open. I snuggle closer to him.

“I do, Rori. I absolutely do.”

He pulls me closer to him and holds me tight against his chest. I let my eyelids flutter closed, safe at last in the arms of the man I love. Because it’s Wes.

It’s always been Wes.