Page 19 of It Happened Again

“Brooks…”

He didn’t stop. My release struck like white lightning, stealing the air from my lungs.

Before I could recover, he stood and kissed me, sharing in my taste on his lips and tongue. “You taste like a fucking dream I’ve had every night thinking of you since you left. Even better than I remember, Mais…”

“My turn?” I reached for him, palmed him through his pants, and he groaned.

“You’re such a good girl...”

I stood and pushed him into the chair. I parted his shirt for the pleasure of the view of his abs. My fingers made quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing him. I remember the first time I saw him, when I’d gasped at his girth. I stroked him slowly, watching his head fall back, lips parting with a low growl as Iteased his head and traced him with my tongue, sucking at him greedily.

“That mouth,” he gritted. “You’re going to kill me.”

I pumped him until his whole body tensed. He reached down and guided the rhythm he liked. With a strangled gasp, he came in my hand, his eyes on mine the whole time.

We were breathless, undone... and I trembled that there would be more to come. My heart fluttered wildly in my chest, not just from what we’d done, but from the way he gazed upon me—more than a woman in his arms, as if I was theonlywoman in his world.

Somehow, he always knew how to quiet the doubt in me, settle the nerves under my skin. Like my body had spent months adrift. And now, back in his arms, was it finally anchored again?

He reached for the convenient box of tissues on the desk and took my hand, cleaning me off with surprising tenderness.

Without a word, he stood, swept me into his arms, and carried me to the bed. Gently, he laid me under the covers, then joined me, skin to skin, wrapping himself around me like he never wanted to let go.

I melted into him, curling my fingers over his bicep, wishing time could freeze right here. Just us. Just this.

I rested my head on his chest, heart still pounding. “Why didn’t we go all the way?”

His hand brushed through my hair, slow and soothing. “Fuck, believe me. I want to. But Maisy, I want more than just a night. I want many nights. All of them, if I can have them.”

I smiled against his chest, but a sadness bloomed in my stomach.

“I don’t leave until after New Year’s.”

“I know. It’s not enough. So if it’s okay, tonight, I want to stay until sunrise and talk and laugh with you. Like we used to,” he implored.

“I want that, too.” Tears prickled behind my eyes. I nodded, suddenly too full of emotion to speak. He always saw me clearer than anyone else. Not the scientist. Not the student. But Maisy, a woman seeking love and connection at the deepest level. If I could measure it and study it, I would so I’d know how to replicate this moment forever.

“When you come back in six months,” he whispered, “promise me we’ll finish this. We’ll finally have each other.”

I hesitated.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, letting the tears escape. “But I’m not coming back in six months. I extended six more months beyond my original year. They have a master’s degree program, where I study online and do practical application on board the ship. I’ll come back with my master’s degree, mostly done, with only a thesis to complete.”

He stilled. Hardly breathing, like I punched the air out of him. The warm weight of his arm around me suddenly felt heavier, yet more fragile.

And in that silence, I heard the crack in his heart. Mine, too.

8

PERMISSION NOT REQUIRED

MAISY

I awoke too early,cursing my alarm, my arm brushing tissues off my bed as I reach to turn it off. So many tears shed as I cried myself to sleep, memories taking me back to the night of Chelsea’s wedding, to the last time I was in Brooks’ arms.

Enough of that. I needed a shower and something for this headache fast. I didn’t have time to dawdle in the past.

An hour later, ready for work, I debated about the most healthy breakfast to combat the day’s stress ahead, when an email hit my inbox. The subject line caught my attention.

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