Saving Sawyer | ✓

Bonus | Grawyer Prom

"I just needed to get some stuff off my chest," I explain and he nods. "I kind of just told him how much he hurt me back then and, like, the effect it had on my life and stuff. And I told him that I'm not the same girl, you know? Like that I'm a lot stronger than I was back then. And he just kind of stood there and it was really awkward and then I left," I inform him.

"Well, he didn't do anything to you, did he?" He finally asks.

"He didn't do anything," I reiterate. "I think he was in shock."

"And you feel better now?" Graham wonders and I can tell he's still kind of worried, but it's okay; at least I know he cares.

"I do," I truthfully state. "I would feel a lot better though if you got in a Prom-y mood and stopped being worried," I add.

And then he finally smiles his perfect smile and it's like the whole entire world stops right then and right there. I think that it hits me then that this really is almost the end. Not the end of our relationship, per se, but the end of us being together like this all the time. It's June now and in just under two months, Graham's going to move to Kansas. And then I won't get to see his perfect smile anymore and I won't get to hug him anymore and I won't get to cuddle with him anymore. At least, not on the regular, they'll all be scheduled. I didn't realize until just now how sad that thought makes me. But then I remember what he said earlier, promising to come home as often as he can, so that makes it a little better.

"I stopped being worried — I smiled and everything — and now you're the one looking all worried," Graham points out.

"I just really love you," I say, deciding to push it out of my head for the billionth time. We've still got loads of time together.

He doesn't say it back or anything, which isn't a big deal since I didn't say it with the goal of hearing him say it right back. Instead, he unlaces our fingers and then puts his hands on either side of my face and leans down, gently placing his lips to mine. I'd say the vast majority of our kisses now-a-days are really hot and sloppy kind of kisses, but this one is much different. It's a little slower and way more chaste kind of kiss, but it's still really amazing and I wish it could go on forever.

After just a couple of seconds though, the intensity of it all kind of multiplies by like a million and all of a sudden, I'm on my back in the limo and Graham's laying on top of me. He's got his weight shifted some special way though, because I'm clearly not dying despite the fact that he's lying on top of me. Girl Dies from Asphyxiation while Getting Frisky with Her Boyfriend in the Limo on the way to Prom. That's what the headline would read if I were to die right now, I'm pretty sure.

"What's funny?" Graham asks against my lips and I realize that I really giggled out loud. God, how does he deal with me?

"Um, nothing, it doesn't matter," I murmur, loosely looping my arms around his neck and picking our kiss right back up.

And then his hand is in my hair and his lips are on my neck and his other hand is halfway up my dress, his fingers dancing around on my thigh. And one of my arms is still wrapped around his neck, just kind of awkwardly dangling and then there's the other hand and it's down the front of his pants. It's wildly inappropriate, I know, and I'm pretty sure the limo driver thinks we're back here having sex, because I hear him clearing his throat and the sound of the partition rolling up.

"You know," Graham whispers in a raspy tone. "We don't have to go to prom," He says. "We can just bail and get a room."

I'm about to reply and tell him that that's a great idea, but I can't get the words out. See, here's the thing about having a boyfriend that looks like Graham Cambridge: he makes me stupid. Whenever we do anything even remotely intimate, it's like the part of my brain that produces sound just completely disengages. I literally sit there looking like an idiot. It's sad.