Page 126 of Just One Kiss

His gaze dipped to her mouth then back to her eyes and he shook his head ever so slightly. “I did what was best for you and Jaden.”

She stepped back on wobbly legs, eyes filling with fresh tears she would not let herself cry. “This was a terrible mistake.”

He reached for her, but she yanked her hand away.

“Carly—don’t.”

She started for the door but stopped in the entryway and looked back at him. “I never thought my heart could feel as broken as it did the morning I realized you were gone. But I think this is even worse—so congratulations, Josh. You’re the only man who’s ever broken my heart twice.” She wiped her cheeks dry with the sleeves of the tattered sweatshirt. “And I’m the fool who fell for you all over again so shame on me.”

His eyes had turned glassy, but he said nothing.

And Carly walked out the door, certain that, at long last, things between her and Josh were officially over.

32

Josh stared at the empty space in the entryway, the memory of Carly’s kisses so fresh in his mind they brought him physical pain. How good it had felt to hold her, to explore her body with his hands, to taste her lips on his tongue.

He wanted her—every part of him wanted her. But more than that, he loved her. How could she not see that? How could she doubt for a second that he’d done the right thing—he’d vowed to put her happiness first. If she knew the things he’d seen, the demons he battled—she would thank him for leaving when he did.

Wouldn’t she?

He sank back onto the couch where he’d fallen asleep hours before she came. It had been a fitful sleep, interrupted and frustrating, and when he saw her standing at the door, for a moment he thought he was dreaming.

Now that dream had turned into a nightmare.

He loved her—was God really going to make him let her go—again?

He clicked the television off. Maybe it was time to tell her the truth, the secrets he’d spent his whole life keeping.

But what would she say if she knew the real reason why he’d left? There would be no coming back after that. He’d lose her for good.

He tried to sleep. He tried focusing on nothing, but the image of his little brother’s face kept creeping into his mind.

Dylan.

He didn’t talk about Dylan. Nobody talked about Dylan. The only reason Carly even knew Dylan had existed was because she saw a photograph of Dylan and Josh, the one Josh still kept in his desk.

She’d asked about Josh’s little brother, but he hadn’t been forthcoming with the details.

“He died when I was younger,” he’d said. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

And he didn’t.

They’d moved to Harbor Pointe to escape the memory of what happened with Dylan. Why was it coming back now—as if it had happened yesterday?

The details had always been a thick fog at the back of his mind.

“It was an accident, Josh,” his mother had said. “Try not to dwell on it.”

But how could he not? It was his fault. His actions had caused his brother’s death.

They’d grown up in a neighborhood with boxy houses and small yards, so all the kids played at the park down the block. It was a neighborhood park with swings and a slide and a merry-go-round. Sometimes in the summer, they spent their entire day on that playground.

That day, they got there late. The sun was setting, and it was a strange time for them to be at the park at all. They hadn’t had dinner, and Josh’s stomach growled.

He rolled over, trying to shove the thoughts aside. He worked to fill his mind with the image of Carly instead of the image of Dylan—with his dark, curly hair and big blue eyes. With Dylan being the typical tag-along little brother, the two boys were inseparable. Josh liked being admired, and Dylan looked at his older brother like he was a celebrity.

What happened next?

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