Free Unwanted Stars by Melissa Brown

into his arousal.
    The water bus let out three long sounds of the horn.
    "Shit," Campbell said, knowing that was the signal for last boat of the night.
    "Last call. We'd better...um, we should probably go.”
    "I know, but..."
    "I know," I said, pressing my forehead to his. "I know."
    Slowly, he lowered me to the ground, buttoning my top for me and smoothing down my hair. Such a gentleman. He was practically devouring me just a minute prior, but when reality resurfaced, so did his chivalrous nature.
    We ran to the water bus, hands again interlocked, but when a few members of the tour hopped on the boat, my hands jumped quickly to my lap. We remained detached all the way back to our hotel, saying a casual goodbye for the night, knowing the tour members eyes were upon us.

    And so, this morning, as the clock continued to taunt me from the bedside table, I sat, holding a new matchbook—one that slid under my door just a few minutes ago. I jumped out of bed to retrieve it, flinging back the cardboard flap, ignoring the sting of my back and the soreness in my thighs.

    Holy crap on a mother fucking cracker. My skin tingled all the way down to my toes. Checking the calendar, I realized I had thirteen more days with Campbell. The man I knew almost nothing about...aside from his smile, that damn dimple on his cheek, and the husky velvet tone of his voice. The man who sent desire through every inch of my body. The man who not only called me sexy, but who made me feel sexy. And I was determined to make those thirteen days count.

I'd avoided calling my mom back for days, but I couldn't avoid it anymore. I was a drama queen, yes, but a crap-ass daughter I was not. My mom was worried, and I didn't want her to be. I'd already scolded Hadley for revealing the nature of my needy text. She apologized immediately, knowing a tongue lashing was coming her way. She knew I was private when it came to my love life...I didn't share a lot with my mother. We'd never really been super close in that way like Hadley and her mom Allison once were, but we were close in our own way. My mom loved me, she'd do anything for me. It wasn't her fault that I didn't let her in enough to consider her my friend in addition to being my mom.
    She picked up immediately. "Oh thank God, honey. You've had me worried sick."
    "Mom, I'm fine. Sorry I didn't call. It's been crazy."
    "I'll bet. Tell me all about it," she said, her voice enthusiastic and light. This was my chance to tell her about Campbell, the man who made the pit of my stomach feel hollow, who made me ache and yearn and trip over my words.
    But instead of telling her all about him, I choked. I stuck to business. I avoided talking about my heart.
    "Italy's been a trip. Today's our final day, thank goodness."
    "Then where to?" she asked.
    "Switzerland."
    "Nice," she said. "Your father loves Lucerne."
    "That's where we're going."
    "That's wonderful, honey."
    Silence.
    Too much silence.
    Awkward pauses are fine and I usually don't mind them. But awkward pauses with my mother bring on all kinds of tension. Like I should be telling her more. Like I should be sharing everything with her the way Hadley did with Allison. Like I'm a crap-ass daughter. It's bad enough my mom has to deal with the anger storm that is my sister Maya. I don't want her to regret giving birth to girls in general, so I try to keep her content. But there's a reason why Jason is the favorite—because Charlotte Kelly was cursed with two pain in the ass daughters and one very loyal, very kind son. Fucking Jason.
    "Are you happy?" she asked. Her voice was hopeful.
    "Very," I said. "Seriously, Mom. Don't worry."
    "I can't help it. You're my baby, Auden."
    "I know."
    "You'll always be my baby."
    "I know that too," I said with a shallow sigh. "You tell me all the time."
    "It's a mother's right. One day you'll understand."
    " If I have kids," I said mockingly. I couldn’t help it. I loved to razz my mother. I do want kids. I do. But I like to give