Locked by Parker Witter Page A

and he knew what I was there to do, but he said he wanted you, too. He said the right thing to do was to let you go. That he could take care of you the way I couldn’t—I thought he was right.”
    Without even realizing it, I’ve begun to cry. I feel the tears sliding down my cheeks, landing in my lap and mingling with the ocean water.
    â€œWhat I am trying to say to you, August, is that asking me is a really stupid response. Because it has been you, only you, every single day, for as long as I can remember. And I hate myself because the only thing I want is to stay here with you forever.”
    I don’t know which one of us moves first. It doesn’t matter. Because soon I’m in his arms and he is kissing me like I have never been kissed before. Nothing has ever felt so good, so true, and I know, now, that what I’m doing is right. I can’t not be with him. Leaving here, going back to a life that was, I can’t do that. Because he’s everything now. Wherever Noah is is where I want to be.
    My face is wet from crying, and he kisses my eyelids and then my cheeks. When his lips meet mine again I taste the salt on them. His lips travel down to my neck and then he’s standing, with me still in his arms. He carries me through the cottage and into the bedroom. He takes my wet clothes off, but this time there is no chill. I am already heated up by the sun and his kisses.
    It’s different this time. Slower. More familiar. My body folds to him instantly. He traces his fingers all over me, like he’s mapping my body, drawing it, memorizing every inch. His lips find the backs of my knees, his hands find my thighs. I don’t feel shy or nervous. His kisses are deeper. His hands move farther. It feels like everything is more weighted, heavier. Like just by being together we’re making an impact.

Chapter Thirteen
    This time I wake up in his arms. We fell asleep and now it’s nearly evening. His eyes are closed, but when I kiss his neck I feel his arms tighten reflexively around me.
    â€œHi,” he says.
    â€œHi.”
    We kiss lazily for a few minutes. His hands move up and down my arms. He kisses my nose. Then right behind my ear.
    â€œThat tickles,” I say, laughing.
    â€œNoted.”
    My stomach starts to growl, and I realize I have not eaten a single thing today. I left early to meet with the chief and since then have had only water.
    â€œHungry?” Noah asks.
    â€œStarving,” I say.
    â€œI’ll be back,” he says. He kisses me and then stands up. I try to pull him back down. “I don’t want you to go,” I say. I wrap my arms around his torso and bring his face down to mine. “Sustenance,” he says, “is key.” His lips meet my shoulder and then travel back up my neck. I sigh. Food seems overrated. “I’ll be back.”
    He pulls on clothes and I watch him go. I lie back. It’s weird. I know I shouldn’t be this happy. I know I should want to get back home, that I should be looking for a way, but I can’t help it. I feel content. It’s not just right for him; it’s right for me, too. Because my life ended the instant we crashed, and my new one, this one, began that same moment. My life with Noah. Maybe he’s not the only one who belongs here. Maybe I do, too.
    I slip on some clothes and join him in the kitchen. He’s baking fish, and he hands me a ceramic plate of cut fruit. I devour it all, and he gives me more. I have a flare of pride that Noah’s presence has created a life that flourishes here.
    â€œBetter?” he says when I’ve finished. He takes the empty plate out of my hands and wraps his arm around my waist. He draws me close to him and kisses me once. He sets the plate down but doesn’t let go of me, and with his other hand he tucks some hair behind my ear. “I love you,” he says. “Have I said that yet?”
    â€œIn so many