There was no fear there, only heat. As I tightened my grip, she bucked her hips, grinding against me. It was like we were both daring each other to take it a step further, to see who would break first.

Me, of course. I let go of her throat and wrapped my arms around her, holding her close and fucking her hard. As the pressure in my chest rose, so did the tempo of my thrusts. She moaned, the sound low and deep, her body arching against me. Then she was coming again, fluttering around me, pulling me into a climax that ripped a guttural cry from my throat. My knees went to jelly and blood roared in my ears. I braced my hand on the bench, keeping my other arm around Arabella. For a moment, I stayed like that, breathing her air, not quite ready to let her go.

But Arabella was. With her hands flat against my chest, she said, “Get the fuck away from me.”

She wasn’t yelling or crying. Her voice was calm and cold, which made it so much worse. It was the end. No question. I pulled out and stepped back, letting her hop off the counter. Without even a glance at me, she walked away, disappearing into the bedroom and shutting the door.

I stood there; the sound echoing in my head. I’d done what I set out to do. Arabella would hate me and move on. I couldn’t offer her anything else, so that was the best thing for her.

Figuring the least I could do right now was give her some space, I pulled on my clothes and grabbed my coat. The door of the RV closed behind me with a soft click, the sound somehow final. I paused, the warmth of the inside still clinging to my back while the night’s chill seeped into my bones. The campground was deadly quiet at this hour, giving me the silence I needed. I started walking, the path ahead dimly lit by the campground’s sparse lighting. Overhead, the branches of oak and maple trees swayed gently in the breeze. The distant skyline of Philadelphia was a low smudge against the night sky.

I couldn’t get the memory of that flash of agony in Arabella’s eyes out of my mind. Maybe I should have stayed and talked it through, explained why it was better this way. But the words would have been lies. It wasn’t better, not for me. But it was absolutely the right thing for her.

Sitting on a bench outside the circle of lamplight, I couldn’t stop more images of Arabella from crowding my mind. Trying to picture life without her was like staring down a road to nowhere—flat, gray, and endless. Fucking desolate.

Ididn’t want to think about her with someone else, someone who could make her happy in all the ways I convinced myself I couldn’t. Someone who didn’t have the kind of baggage that I carried around like a second skin. But the thought was there, stuck in my head—Arabella smiling up at some other guy, him making her laugh; him loving her. And what was a thousand times worse; her loving him. There was no way I could stay at the Ranch and watch that happen.

I’d let her go because I knew it was right. But also, letting her go meant I was alone, back to square one, but with a gaping hole where she used to be. Fuck.

I got up from the bench, the night suddenly too quiet, too still. Walking back to the RV felt like the longest trek I’d ever made. I’d said there was nothing between us, but everything inside me screamed that it was a lie. And as I moved closer to the light of the RV, to her, I was already feeling the pull of wanting to take it all back. But I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t.

CHAPTER33

Arabella

The morning light sneaked in, kind of rude if you ask me, dragging me out of a deep, cozy sleep. I blinked, a bit disoriented, and then I felt it—the solid warmth of Mack right there behind me. His arm was thrown over my waist, his chest to my back, his soft breath tickling my neck. I let myself wallow in how amazingly perfect it felt, deliberately ignoring the big red stop sign flashing in my brain.

I’d heard him leave the night before, closing the door behind him with a finality that made my chest hurt. Waiting long enough to be sure he wasn’t coming back anytime soon, I gave into the hot, angry tears that I couldn’t hold back any longer. Then, exhausted, I’d fallen asleep, never hearing him return. But here he was, curled around me like he never wanted to let me go. It was like some truth he wouldn’t say out loud when he was awake, which, you know, was very fucking confusing for me. I barely breathed, not moving, not wanting to wake him yet, my heart doing somersaults at the way he was holding me.

I’d spent days walking through the shaky ground of knowing I loved him. Feeling so off balance, so afraid of telling him, and finding out he didn’t feel the same way. Then he’d blindsided me. Knocked me off my feet. Flashes from last night flooded back—the look on his face when he’d just dropped the bomb—There is no us.

I’d wanted to shake him, to scream and make him see that what we had couldn’t be summed up in a casual fling. I’d wanted to force him to confront the connection between us that was so obvious to me it hurt. I mean, it may not be love on his end, but it wasn’tnothing,either. I’d been so mad, so sure that pushing him away was the only way to protect my already bruised heart.

A little bit of that anger still simmered under the surface, but the sharp edges had dulled, giving me space to think.

I turned my head a little, enough to get a look at him. His face was just inches from mine, relaxed, a hint of stubble on his jaw. Oh. God. My throat constricted, and I had to blink back tears, almost overwhelmed by the love that bloomed inside me at the sight of him. He looked... different like this, all his guards down. This was the Mack I loved, not the one from last night, watching me with that blank look in his eyes. Trying to scare me with his hand around my throat. As fucking if. This man had shown me time and time again who he was, and I believed him.

In the quiet of the RV, as the reality of our frayed connection settled in, I knew we were at a crossroads. Could I let him go, knowing it would leave a Mack-shaped hole in my life? Or could I fight for him, fight for us, despite him telling me outright that there was no ‘us’? I felt the weight of the questions like a millstone around my neck.

I shifted as carefully as I could away from Mack and rose quietly, pulling a sweater on over my pjs and padding over to the RV’s tiny kitchenette. The routine of making coffee was mechanical, but it gave me a chance to think things through, make some tentative plans.

By the time the coffee was brewed, I’d almost settled on a course of action, and I heard Mack stir behind me. I had to resist the urge to turn around and look at him. I’d give anything to be able to smile at him, have him smile back. Put his arms around me. Kiss the top of my head. “Coffee’s up.” Fuck it, I couldn’t resist sneaking a peek.

He was propped up on one elbow, his hair deliciously rumpled, his eyes on me. There was no blankness there, no blankness at all. Just Mack, his gaze soft and questioning, as if he was searching for something. Or like he’d forgotten to put the mask up.

“Coffee’s up,” I repeated, my voice cracking a little.

“Thanks.” He got up, pulling on his pants and a sweatshirt, before joining me in the kitchenette. Our hands brushed as he reached for the pot and a current of electricity zinged through me. “I think we should head out pretty soon.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s a five-hour drive to Shenandoah Valley, so if we go now, we can spend half the day there.”

“Sounds good.” Um, except, why was he wanting to spend half the day in one of the prettiest spots in the whole country, with me? His gaze had an edge of uncertainty to it that made my heart melt a little and a soft smile curve my lips, even though all of this was monumentally confusing. “I’ll get breakfast ready if you wanna take the first shower.”

“Sure. Okay.” He hesitated, like he was about to say something, and my pulse quickened as I braced myself. “I’ll make it quick.”

I bit back a sigh of disappointment. “No need. Take your time.”