“What do we do now?” she asks breathlessly.

I’m not sure who moves first—maybe we both move together—but suddenly our lips slam together and clothes are being ripped off. I peel off my shirt while Emery yanks off hers. I kick off my boots, grab a condom out of my wallet, and then slip out of my jeans before climbing back onto the bed to help Emery out of her shorts. She giggles when they get stuck on her sandals and the noise is the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard because there’s so much freedom to it.

Once I get her undressed, I lie down on the bed and she straddles my lap. I knot my fingers through her hair, drawing her to my lips. The kiss is unlike the others we’ve shared, carrying more passion, more freedom, more everything. I kiss her with every ounce of emotion I’ve kept trapped inside me, kiss her like she’s feeding me air. Then, gripping her hips, I guide her down on me and thrust inside her.

She gasps from the contact, throwing her head back and arching out her chest. “This feels so amazing.” Her nails scratch my chest as I rock inside her.

With each rock, I sink deeper, my skin beading with sweat. She rolls her hips and lowers her lips to mine, kissing me fervently. I don’t want it to end. I tell myself that it doesn’t have to. That I shouldn’t have to let go of her when I only just got her.

Eventually, we both come undone. For the briefest moment, I feel so content, feel so at peace, almost forgetting that she’s leaving soon and that there’s a good chance I’ll never see her again.

Emery lays her head on my chest right above my racing heart, still straddling me as we both work to catch our breath.

“I don’t want to leave you,” she whispers, tracing circles on my chest. She tips her head, resting her chin on my chest as she peers up at me. “Not when I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”

“We might one day,” I sign then smoothe her damp hair out of her face.

“Yeah, maybe.” She remains silent, chewing on her lip, her eyes glazing over as she gets lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?”

A faint smile touches her lips. “You’re always asking me that.”

“That’s because you’re hard to read,” I sign, dropping a kiss on her lips. “And I want to know what’s on your mind.”

She pushes up and swings her legs off me. “You know, I used to think you asked me that because my father was making you. That he was trying to have you get into my head.”

“Emery.” I sit up in front of her. “I never wanted to use you. Most of the time we spent together, especially in the beginning, was real for me.”

“I believe you and that’s not why I’m bringing this up.” She grabs a pillow and hugs it tightly against her chest. “I was just thinking how great it would be if we could run away together, but then I realized how impossible that is.”

The moment the words leave her lips, the moment she puts it out there, I know I’m facing a life-altering choice.

“Why is that so impossible if we both want it?” I sign to her.

Do we both want it? Do I want it? I barely know her and she hardly knows me, yet somehow we know more about each other than others know about us. That has to mean something, right?

“You don’t want it.” She frowns, cuddling the pillow closer. “Trust me. You don’t want me like that.”

“No… I’m pretty sure I do.”

She rapidly shakes her head, her eyes widening. “Ryler, you don’t even know me… don’t even know what you’re getting into.” My hands lift to protest but she continues on. “You remember at the concert how I told you that I’m crazy? Well, that’s one of the few times when I was telling you the painful truth.”

“You’re not crazy,” I insist, scooting closer to her, the mattress concaving under my weight. “You’ve just had a rough life.”

Her eyes water with tears. “My parents had me on these pills most of my life and I found out a month ago that those pills were for psychosis.”

“Your parents are the fucking crazy ones.” I snatch hold of the pillow and chuck it aside. “You need to realize that.”

“I sometimes see my dead brother,” she divulges, wide-eyed in horror. “I think it’s out of guilt, but still… That’s not normal.”

I swallow the lump welling in my throat. So that’s why Doc always referred to his son in past tense. “When did he… when did he die?”

“Before I left for Laramie,” she explains. “I caught my father burying him in the basement, and he threatened to kill me if I didn’t help cover his death up. I somehow blocked the memory out, but then it started surfacing when I stopped taking the pills. That’s when Ellis started showing up. I would talk to him and everything, but couldn’t figure out why. Then I remembered everything.” She begins to sob, heart-wrenching sounds that pierce at my soul. “You need to go. Run away from me.”

Some might say she’s right—that I should run away and leave her. It would be the easy thing to do, just like it was easy for Aura to bail out on me when I needed her. Just like it was easy for my father and mother to bail out on me. Easy, easy, easy, and my life will be perfect, perfect, perfect.

I don’t want perfect, though. I don’t want to let her go. Don’t believe that she’s as crazy as she thinks she is. She’s just lost. Besides, who am I to judge her after all the shit I’ve done. In my own way, I’m crazy, too?