A Thousand Boy Kisses
: Chapter 2

Rune

Two years ago

Aged Fifteen

Silence fell as she settled herself on the stage. Well, not everything was silent—the thunder of blood rushing through me roared in my ears as my Poppy carefully sat down. She looked beautiful in her sleeveless black dress, with her long brown hair pulled back in a bun, white bow positioned on top.

Lifting the camera that was always around my neck, I brought the lens to my eye just as she positioned her bow against the string of her cello. I always loved to capture her at this moment. The moment she closed her big green eyes. The moment the most perfect expression drifted over her face—the look she wore just before the music began. The look of pure passion for the sounds that were to follow.

I snapped the picture at the perfect time, and then the melody began. Lowering my camera, I focused simply on her. I couldn’t take pictures while she played. I couldn’t bring myself to miss any part of how she looked up on that stage.

My lip hooked up in a small smile as her body began to sway to the music. She loved this piece, had been playing it for as long as I could remember. She needed no sheet music for this; Greensleeves poured from her soul through her bow.

I couldn’t stop staring, my heart beating like a damn drum as Poppy’s lips twitched. Her deep dimples popped out when she concentrated on the difficult passages. Her eyes remained closed, but you could tell which parts of the music she adored. Her head would tilt to the side, and a huge smile would spread on her face.

People didn’t understand that after all this time she was still mine. We were only fifteen, but since the day I kissed her in the blossom grove, aged eight, there had never been anyone else. I had blinkers on to any other girl. I only saw Poppy. In my world, only she existed.

And she was different to any other girl in our class. Poppy was quirky, not cool. She wasn’t concerned with what people thought of her—she never had been. She played the cello because she loved it. She read books, she studied for fun, she woke at dawn just to watch the sunrise.

It was why she was my everything. My forever always. Because she was unique. Unique in a town full of carbon-copy bimbos. She didn’t want to cheer, or bitch, or chase boys. She knew she had me, just as much as I had her.

We were all we needed.

I shuffled on my seat as the sound of her cello became softer, Poppy bringing the piece to an end. Lifting my camera again, I snapped a final shot as Poppy raised her bow off the string, a contented expression gracing her pretty face.

The sound of applause made me lower the camera. Poppy pushed the instrument off her chest and got to her feet. She gave a small bow, then scanned the auditorium. Her eyes met mine. She smiled.

I thought my heart might smash through my chest.

I smirked in return, pushing my long blond hair back off my face with my fingers. A blush coated Poppy’s cheeks, then she exited stage left, the house lights flooding the auditorium with light. Poppy had been the last to perform. She always closed the show. She was the best musician in the district for our age group. In my opinion, she outshone anyone in the three age groups above.

I once asked her how she was able to play like she did. She simply told me that the melodies poured from her bow as easily as she breathed. I couldn’t imagine having that kind of talent. But that was Poppy, the most amazing girl in the world.

When the applause faded out, people began to leave the auditorium. A hand pressed on my arm. Mrs. Litchfield was wiping away a tear. She always cried when Poppy performed.

“Rune, sweetie, we need to get these two home. Are you okay to meet Poppy?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, and quietly laughed at Ida and Savannah, Poppy’s nine- and eleven-year-old sisters, sleeping on their seats. They didn’t much care for music, not like Poppy.

Mr. Litchfield rolled his eyes and threw me a small wave, then turned to wake the girls to get them home. Mrs. Litchfield kissed me on my head, then the four of them left.

As I made my way out of the aisle, I heard whispers and giggling coming from my right. Glancing over the seats, I spotted a group of freshman girls all looking my way. I ducked my head, ignoring their stares.

It happened a lot. I had no idea why so many of them paid me so much attention. I’d been with Poppy for as long as they’d known me. I didn’t want anyone else. I wished they’d stop trying to get me away from my girl—nothing would ever do that.

I pushed through the exit and made my way to the backstage door. The air was thick and humid, causing my black t-shirt to stick to my chest. My black jeans and black boots were probably too warm for this spring heat, but I wore this style of clothing every day, whatever the weather.

Seeing the performers begin to pile out the door, I leaned against the wall of the auditorium, resting my foot against the white painted brick. I crossed my arms over my chest, only unfolding them to rake my hair from my eyes.

I watched the performers getting hugs from their families, then, catching the same girls from before staring at me, lowered my eyes to the ground. I didn’t want them to come over. I had nothing to say to them.

My eyes were still cast down when I heard footsteps coming my way. I looked up just as Poppy threw herself onto my chest, her arms wrapping around my back, squeezing me tightly.

I huffed a short laugh and held her right back. I was already six feet tall, so I towered over Poppy’s five feet. I liked it though, how she fit perfectly against me.

Inhaling deeply, I took in the sugary-sweet scent of her perfume and pressed my cheek against her head. After one last squeeze, Poppy pulled back and smiled up at me. Her green eyes looked huge under her mascara and light makeup, her lips pink and lush from her cherry lip balm.

I skirted my hands up her sides, stopping when they cupped her soft cheeks. Poppy’s lashes fluttered, making her look all kinds of sweet.

Unable to resist feeling her lips on mine, I slowly leaned forward, almost smiling as I heard that same hitch of breath Poppy expelled every single time I kissed her, in that moment just before our lips touched.

As our lips met, I exhaled through my nose. Poppy always tasted like this, of cherry, the taste from her lip balm flooding my mouth. And Poppy kissed me right back, her small hands gripping tightly to the sides of my black shirt.

I worked my mouth against hers, slowly and softly, until I finally pulled back, laying three short, feather-light kisses on her swollen mouth. I took in a breath and watched Poppy’s eyes flutter open.

Her pupils were dilated. She licked along her bottom lip before casting me a bright smile.

“Kiss three hundred and fifty-two. With my Rune against the auditorium wall.” I held my breath, waiting for the next line. The glint in Poppy’s eyes told me that the words I hoped for next would spill from her lips. Leaning in closer, balancing on her tiptoes, she whispered, “And my heart almost burst.” She only ever recorded the extra-special kisses. Only the ones that made her feel her heart was full. Every time we kissed, I waited for those words.

When they came, she almost blew me away with her smile.

Poppy laughed. I couldn’t help but smile widely at the sound of the happiness in her voice. I pressed another quick kiss to her lips and stepped back to drape my arm over her shoulders. I pulled her close and rested my cheek against her head. Poppy’s arms wrapped around my back and stomach, and I led her away from the wall. As I did, I felt Poppy freeze.

I lifted my head to see the freshman girls pointing at Poppy and whispering to each other. Their eyes were focused on Poppy in my arms. My jaw clenched. I hated that they treated her this way—out of jealousy. Most of the girls never gave Poppy a chance because they wanted what she had. Poppy said she didn’t care, but I could tell that she did. The fact that she stiffened in my arms told me just how much.

Shifting in front of Poppy, I waited for her to lift her head. As soon as she did, I ordered, “Ignore them.”

My stomach dropped as I watched her force a smile. “I am, Rune. They don’t bother me.”

I tipped my head to the side and raised my brows. Poppy shook her head. “They don’t. I promise,” she tried to lie. Poppy glanced over my shoulder and shrugged. When she met my eyes with her own, she said, “But I get it. I mean, look at you, Rune. You’re gorgeous. Tall, mysterious, exotic … Norwegian!” She laughed and pressed her palm over my chest. “You have that whole bad-boy, indie-style thing going for you. The girls can’t help but want you. You’re you. You’re perfect.”

I shifted closer and watched her green eyes widen. “And yours,” I added. The tension leaked from her shoulders.

I slipped my hand into the hand still on my chest. “And I’m not mysterious, Poppymin. You know all there is to know about me: no secrets, no mystery.”

“To me,” she argued, meeting my eyes once more. “You’re not a mystery to me, but you are to all the girls in our school. They all want you.”

I sighed, beginning to feel pissed. “And all I want is you.” Poppy watched me, like she was trying to replace something in my expression. It just pissed me off more. I linked our fingers and whispered, “For infinity.”

With this, a genuine smile tugged on Poppy’s lips. “Forever always,” she eventually whispered in reply.

I dropped my forehead to rest against hers. My hands cupped her cheeks, and I assured her, “I want you and only you. I have done since I was five years old and you shook my hand. No other girl will change that.”

“Yeah?” Poppy asked, but I could hear the humor back in her sweet voice.

“Ja,” I replied in Norwegian, hearing the sweet sound of her giggle wash into my ears. She loved it when I spoke to her in my native language. I kissed her forehead, then stepped back to take hold of her hands. “Your mama and daddy took the girls home; they told me to tell you.”

She nodded her head, then looked up at me, nervously. “What did you think of tonight?”

I rolled my eyes and crinkled my nose. “Terrible, as always,” I said dryly.

Poppy laughed and hit my arm. “Rune Kristiansen! Don’t be so mean!” she scolded.

“Fine,” I said, pretending to be annoyed. I slammed her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her back, trapping her against me. She squealed when I began kissing up and down her cheek, keeping her arms locked by her side. I dropped my lips to her neck and caught her breath hitch, all laughter forgotten.

I moved my mouth up until I tugged on her earlobe with my teeth. “You were amazing,” I whispered softly. “As always. You were perfect up there. You owned that stage. You owned everyone in that room.”

“Rune,” she murmured. I heard the happy tone in her voice.

I pulled back, still not unlocking her arms. “I’m never more proud of you than when I see you up on that stage,” I confessed.

Poppy blushed. “Rune,” she said shyly, but I ducked my head to keep eye contact when she tried to pull away. “Carnegie Hall, remember. One day I’ll be watching you perform at Carnegie Hall.”

Poppy managed to free one of her hands and softly swatted my arm. “You flatter me.”

I shook my head. “Never. I only ever say the truth.”

Poppy pressed her lips to mine, and I felt her kiss all the way to my toes. When she drew back, I released her and threaded our fingers together.

“We heading out to the field?” Poppy asked as I began leading her away across the parking lot, holding her just that little bit closer as we passed the group of freshman girls.

“I’d prefer to be alone with you,” I said.

“Jorie asked if we’d go. Everyone is there.” Poppy looked up at me. By the twitch of her lips, I knew I was scowling. “It’s Friday night, Rune. We’re fifteen, and you’ve just spent most of the night watching me play the cello. We have ninety minutes left until curfew; we should actually see our friends like normal teenagers.”

“Fine,” I submitted and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. Leaning down, I placed my mouth at her ear and said, “But I get you to myself tomorrow.”

Poppy put her arm around my waist and gripped me tightly. “I promise.”

We heard the girls behind us mention my name. I sighed in frustration when Poppy briefly tensed.

“It’s because you’re different, Rune,” Poppy said, without looking up. “You’re artsy, into photography. You wear dark clothes.” She laughed and shook her head. I pushed my hair back from my face, and Poppy pointed up. “But mainly it’s because of that.”

I frowned. “Because of what?”

She reached up and pulled on a strand of my long hair. “When you do that. When you push your hair back like you do.” I raised an eyebrow, bemused. Poppy shrugged. “It’s kinda irresistible.”

“Ja?” I asked, before stopping to stand in front of Poppy, raking my hair back in exaggeration until she laughed. “Irresistible, huh? To you, too?”

Poppy giggled and pulled my hand from my hair to wrap around hers. As we followed the pathway to the field—a patch of the park where the kids from our school hung out at night—Poppy said, “It doesn’t really bother me that other girls look at you, Rune. I know how you feel about me, because it’s the exact way I feel about you.” Poppy sucked in her bottom lip. I knew it meant she was nervous, but I didn’t know why, until she said, “The only girl that bothers me is Avery. Because she’s wanted you for so long and I’m pretty sure she’d do anything to make you hers.”

I shook my head. I didn’t even like Avery, but because she was in our group of friends, she was always around. All my friends liked her; they all thought she was the prettiest thing around. But I never saw it, and I hated how she was toward me. Hated how she made Poppy feel.

“She’s nothing, Poppymin,” I reassured her. “Nothing.”

Poppy curled into my chest and we turned right, toward our friends. I held Poppy tighter the closer we got. Avery sat up as we approached.

Turning my head toward Poppy, I repeated, “Nothing.”

Poppy’s hand gripped my shirt, telling me she’d heard. Her best friend Jorie jumped to her feet.

“Poppy!” Jorie called excitedly, coming over to pull Poppy into her arms. I liked Jorie. She was ditzy, rarely thought before she spoke, but she loved Poppy and Poppy loved her. She was one of the only people in this small town who found Poppy’s quirkiness endearing and not just weird.

“How are you, sweets?” Jorie asked and stepped back. She looked at Poppy’s black performance dress. “You look beautiful! So damn cute!”

Poppy bowed her head in thanks. I took hold of her hand again. I guided us around the small fire that they’d lit in the fire pit and sat down. I leaned back against a log bench, pulling Poppy down to sit between my legs. She flashed me smile as she sat down with me, pressing her back against my chest and tucking her head against my neck.

“So, Pops, how’d it go?” Judson, my best friend, asked from across the fire. My other close friend, Deacon, was sitting beside him. He tipped his chin in greeting, his girlfriend, Ruby, throwing us a small wave too.

Poppy shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

As I wrapped my arm across her chest, holding her tight, I looked at my dark-haired friend and added, “The star of the show. As always.”

“It’s only the cello, Rune. Nothing too special,” Poppy argued softly.

I shook my head in protest. “She brought the place down.”

I caught Jorie smiling at me. I also caught Avery rolling her eyes dismissively. Poppy ignored Avery and began talking to Jorie about class.

“Come on, Pops. I swear Mr. Millen is a damn evil alien. Or a demon. Hell, he’s from somewhere outside of what we know. Brought by the principal to torture us weak young Earthlings with too-hard algebra. It’s how he gets his life-force; I’m convinced of it. And I think he’s onto me too. You know, the fact I know he’s an extra-terrestrial, because, Lord! That man keeps failing my ass and giving me the stink-eye!”

“Jorie!” Poppy laughed, laughed so hard that her whole body shook. I smiled at her happiness, then I zoned out. I leaned further back against the log as our friends talked. I lazily traced patterns on Poppy’s arm, wanting nothing more than to leave. I didn’t mind sitting with our friends, but I preferred to be alone with her. It was her company I craved; the only place I ever wanted to be was with her.

Poppy giggled at something else Jorie said. Her laugh was so hard she knocked the camera hanging around my neck to the side. Poppy flashed me an apologetic smile. I leaned down, tilted her chin toward me with my finger and kissed her on the lips. I only meant for it to be swift and soft, but when Poppy’s hand threaded into my hair, pulling me closer, it became more. As Poppy opened her lips, I pushed my tongue to meet hers, losing my breath as I did.

Poppy’s fingers tightened in my hair. I cupped her cheek to keep her in this kiss as long as possible. If I didn’t have to breathe, I imagine I would never have stopped kissing her.

Too lost in the kiss, we only broke apart when someone cleared their throat from across the fire. I lifted my head to replace Judson smirking. When I glanced down at Poppy, her cheeks were blazing. Our friends hid their laughter, and I squeezed Poppy tighter. I wouldn’t be embarrassed for kissing my girl.

Conversation picked back up again, and I lifted my camera to check it was okay. My mamma and pappa bought it for me for my thirteenth birthday, when they could see that photography was becoming my passion. It was a 1960s vintage Canon. I took it with me everywhere, snapping thousands of pictures. I didn’t know why, but capturing moments fascinated me. Maybe it was because sometimes all we get are moments. There are no do-overs; whatever happens in a moment defines life—perhaps it is life. But capturing a moment on film keeps that moment alive, forever. To me, photography was magic.

I mentally scrolled through the camera roll. Pictures of wildlife and close-ups of cherry blossoms from the grove would occupy most of the film. Then there’d be photos of Poppy tonight. Her pretty face as the music took its hold. I’d only ever seen that look on her face one other time—when she looked at me. To Poppy, I was as special to her as her music was.

In both cases, a bond that no one could break.

Reaching for my cell, I lifted it out in front of us, the camera lens facing our direction. Poppy was no longer taking part in the conversation around us. She was silently running her fingertips along my arm. Catching her off-guard, I snapped the picture, just as she looked up at me. I let out a single laugh when her eyes narrowed in annoyance. I knew she wasn’t angry though, despite her effort to look so. Poppy loved any picture of us I took, even if it was taken when she least expected it.

When I focused on my cell, my heart immediately started slamming against my chest. In the picture, as Poppy stared up at me, she looked beautiful. But it was the expression on her face that floored me. The look in her green eyes.

In this moment, this single captured moment, there was that expression. The one she gave to me as readily as she gave to her music. The one that told me I had her just as much as she had me. The one that ensured we had stayed together all these years. The one that said even though we were young, we knew we’d found our soulmate in the other.

“Let me see?”

Poppy’s quiet voice pulled my attention from the screen. She smiled at me and I lowered the phone to let her see.

I watched Poppy, not the picture, as her gaze fell upon the screen. I watched as her eyes softened and a whisper of a smile ghosted on her lips. “Rune,” she whispered, as she reached down to take hold of my free hand.

I squeezed her hand and she said, “I want a copy of that one. It’s perfect.” I nodded and kissed her head.

And this is why I love photography, I thought. It could pull out emotion, raw emotion, from a split second in time.

Turning off my phone’s camera, I saw the time displayed on the screen. “Poppymin,” I said quietly, “we have to head home. It’s getting late.”

Poppy nodded. I got to my feet and pulled her upright.

“You heading out?” Judson asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll catch you Monday.”

I threw them all a wave and took hold of Poppy’s hand. We didn’t say much as we made our way home. When we stopped at Poppy’s door, I took her in my arms and pulled her to my chest. I placed my hand on the side of her neck. Poppy looked up. “I’m so proud of you, Poppymin. There’s no doubt that you’ll get into Julliard. Your dream of playing at Carnegie Hall will come true.”

Poppy smiled brightly and tugged on the camera strap around my neck. “And you’ll be at Tisch School of the Arts at NYU. We’ll be in New York together, like it was always meant to be. Like we’ve always planned.”

I nodded my head and brushed my lips along her cheek. “Then there would be no more curfew,” I muttered teasingly. Poppy laughed. Moving to her mouth, I pressed a soft kiss to her lips and backed away.

As I let go of her hands, Mr. Litchfield opened the door. He saw me moving away from his daughter and shook his head, laughing. He knew exactly what we’d been doing.

“Night, Rune,” he said dryly.

“Night, Mr. Litchfield,” I replied, seeing Poppy blush as her daddy gestured for her to go inside.

I walked across the grass to my house. I opened the door, walked through to the living room and found my parents sitting on the couch. They were both sitting forward in their seats, and they seemed tense.

“Hei,” I said, and my mamma’s head snapped up.

“Hei, baby,” she said.

I frowned. “What’s wrong?” I asked. My mamma shot a glance at my pappa.

She shook her head. “Nothing, baby. Did Poppy play well? Sorry we couldn’t make it.”

I stared at my parents. They were hiding something, I could tell. When they didn’t continue, I slowly nodded my head, answering their question. “She was perfect, as always.”

I thought I glimpsed tears in my mamma’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. Needing to escape the awkwardness, I held up my camera. “I’m going to develop these then go to bed.”

As I turned to walk away, my pappa said, “We’re going out as a family tomorrow, Rune.”

I stopped dead. “I can’t come. I’ve planned to spend the day with Poppy.”

My pappa shook his head. “Not tomorrow, Rune.”

“But—” I went to argue, but my pappa cut me off, his voice stern.

“I said no. You’re coming, that’s final. Poppy can see you when we get back. We won’t be gone all day.”

“What’s really going on?”

My pappa walked to stand before me. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Nothing, Rune. I just never see you anymore because of work. I want to change that, so we’re having a day out at the beach.”

“Well then, can Poppy come with us? She loves the beach. It’s her second-favorite place to go.”

“Not tomorrow, son.”

I stayed silent, getting pissed, but I could see he wasn’t going to budge. Pappa sighed. “Go develop your pictures, Rune, and stop worrying.”

Doing as he said, I walked down to the basement and into the small side room my pappa had converted into a darkroom for me. I still developed film in the old style instead of using a digital camera. I thought it made for a better result.

After twenty minutes, I stepped back from the line of new pictures. I had also printed the photo from my phone, of Poppy and me at the field. I picked it up and carried it to my bedroom. I stuck my head into Alton’s room as I passed, checking my two-year-old brother was sleeping. He was, curled up tight to his brown stuffed bear, his messy blond hair spread out over his pillow.

I pushed through my door and turned on my lamp. I looked at the clock, registering it was near midnight. Running my hand through my hair, I made my way to the window, and smiled when I saw the Litchfield house in darkness, save for the dim light from Poppy’s nightlight—Poppy’s sign that the coast was clear for me to sneak in.

I locked my bedroom door and switched off the lamp. The room was plunged into darkness. I quickly changed into my sleep pants and shirt. Silently, I lifted the window and climbed out. I sprinted across the grass between our two houses and crawled inside Poppy’s room, closing the window as quietly as I could.

Poppy was in bed, tucked under the covers. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was soft and even. Smiling at how cute she looked with her cheek resting in her hand, I padded over, placed her present on the nightstand and climbed in beside her.

I lay beside her, my head dropping to share her pillow.

We’d done this for years. The first night I stayed over was a mistake; I climbed into her room, at age twelve, to talk, but I fell asleep. Fortunately, I woke early enough the next morning to sneak back into my own bedroom unnoticed. But then the next night, I stayed on purpose, then the night after that, and almost every night since. Luckily we’d never been found out. I wasn’t too sure Mr. Litchfield would like me the same if he knew I slept in his daughter’s bed.

But staying beside Poppy in bed was becoming more and more difficult. Now I was fifteen, I felt differently around her. I saw her differently. And I knew she did me. We kissed more and more. The kisses were getting deeper, our hands starting to explore places they shouldn’t. It was getting harder and harder to stop. I wanted more. I wanted my girl in every possible way.

But we were young. I knew that.

It didn’t make it any less difficult though.

Poppy stirred beside me. “I wondered if you were coming tonight. I waited for you but you weren’t in your room,” she said sleepily as she pushed my hair from my face.

Capturing her hand, I kissed her palm. “I had to develop my film, and my parents were acting weird.”

“Weird? How?” she asked, shuffling closer and kissing my cheek.

I shook my head. “Just … weird. I think something’s going on, but they told me not to worry.”

Even in the dim light I could see Poppy’s eyebrows were pulled together in concern. I squeezed her hand in reassurance.

Remembering the present I’d brought her, I reached behind me and took the picture from the nightstand. I’d put it in a simple silver frame. I tapped the flashlight icon on my phone and held it up so Poppy could see better.

She gave a small sigh and I watched as a smile lit up her entire face. She took hold of the frame and stroked her finger across the glass. “I love this picture, Rune,” she whispered, then placed it on her nightstand. She gazed at it for a few moments, then turned back my way.

Poppy lifted the covers and held them high so I could shuffle underneath. I laid my arm over Poppy’s waist and moved closer to her face, peppering soft kisses over her cheeks and neck.

When I kissed the spot just below her ear, Poppy began to giggle and pulled away. “Rune!” she whispered, “that tickles!”

I drew back and threaded my hand through hers.

“So,” Poppy asked, lifting her other hand to play with a long strand of my hair, “what are we doing tomorrow?”

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “We’re not, my pappa is making us go out as a family for the day. To the beach.”

Poppy sat up excitedly. “Really? I love the beach!”

My stomach dropped. “He said we have to go alone, Poppymin. Just the family.”

“Oh,” Poppy said, sounding disappointed. She lay back down on the bed. “Have I done something wrong? Your pappa always invites me along with y’all.”

“No,” I assured her. “It’s what I was saying before. They’re acting strange. He said he wants us to spend the day as a family, but I think there’s something else.”

“Okay,” Poppy said, but I could hear the sad tone in her voice.

I cupped her head in my hand and promised, “I’ll be back for dinner. We’ll spend tomorrow night together.”

She took hold of my wrist. “Good.”

Poppy stared at me, her green eyes wide in the dull light. I stroked my hand along her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Poppymin.”

I didn’t need the light to see the blush coating her cheeks. I closed the small space between us and crushed my lips against hers. Poppy sighed as I pushed my tongue into her mouth, her hands moving to grip onto my hair.

It felt too good, Poppy’s mouth growing hotter and hotter the more we kissed, my hands dropping to run down her bare arms and down over her waist.

Poppy shifted onto her back as my hand slipped down to touch her leg. I followed and moved above her, Poppy snapping her mouth from mine with a gasp. But I didn’t stop kissing her. I dragged my lips over her jaw to kiss along her neck, my hand moving beneath her nightdress to stroke the soft skin of her waist.

Poppy’s fingers pulled at my hair, and her leg lifted to wrap around the back of my thigh. I groaned against her throat, moving back up to take her mouth with mine. As my tongue slid against hers, I traced my fingers further up her body. Poppy broke from the kiss.

“Rune…”

I dropped my head to the crook between her neck and shoulder, breathing deeply. I wanted her so much it was almost too much to take.

I breathed in and out as Poppy dropped her hand to stroke up and down my back. I focused on the rhythm of her fingers, forcing myself to calm down.

Minutes and minutes passed, but I didn’t move. I was content lying over Poppy, breathing in her delicate scent, my hand pressing against her soft stomach.

“Rune?” Poppy whispered. I lifted my head.

Poppy’s hand was immediately on my cheek. “Baby?” she whispered, and I could hear the worry in her voice.

“I’m okay,” I whispered back, keeping my voice as quiet as possible so as not to disturb her parents. I looked deep into her eyes. “I just want you so damn much.” I dropped my forehead to hers and added, “When we’re like this, when we let it get this far, I kind of lose my mind.”

Poppy’s fingers threaded through my hair and I closed my eyes, loving her touch. “I’m sorry, I—”

“No,” I said forcefully, a little louder than intended. I shifted back. Poppy’s eyes were huge. “Don’t. Don’t ever apologize for this, for stopping me. It’s never something you have to be sorry for.”

Poppy parted her kiss-swollen lips and let out a long sigh. “Thank you,” she whispered. I moved my hand and lowered my fingers to link them through hers.

Shifting to the side, I opened my arm and flicked my head for her to come to me. She laid her head on my chest. I closed my eyes and just worked on breathing.

Eventually, sleep began to take me. Poppy’s finger traced up and down my stomach. I had almost drifted off when Poppy whispered, “You’re my everything, Rune Kristiansen, I hope you know that.”

My eyes snapped open at her words, my chest feeling full. Placing my finger under her chin, I tipped her head upward. Her mouth was waiting for my kiss.

I kissed her gently, softly, and slowly withdrew. Poppy’s eyes remained closed as she smiled. Feeling like my chest would explode at the contented look on her face, I whispered, “For infinity.”

Poppy snuggled back into my chest and whispered back, “Forever always.”

And we both fell asleep.