Page 57 of Every Heartbeat After

Add Tess in my clothes to the list of my favorite views.

“I may snore, but you talk in your sleep.” She reaches me in a few easy strides and plucks a coffee from my hand, but makes no move to pass me and step onto the balcony. Instead she leans into me, every curve of hers soft against all my hard, and attempts to impersonate me with an even more affected Southern accent than her usual. “Tess is so perfect. I’ve never wanted anyone so much. I can’t believe I didn’t sleep with her when I had the chance.”

“If I really said all those things”—I lean down and plant a kiss on the tip of her nose—“then it’s only because they’re true.”

She didn’t expect such blatant honesty. I can tell, because her cheeks flush and she glances out to the ocean, which is calm enough to reflect the early dawn like glass.

I tap my cup to hers in the world’s laziest toast, earning back her attention. “Hope the coffee is okay. I eyeballed it based off the stuff the barista makes you, but I didn’t think adding ice would work well.”

She arches a brow, her gaze dropping to the cup she’s holding. One barely contained wince later, she swallows her first sip and says, “It’s perfect.”

My responding snort ripples the surface of my own subpar beverage. “Really testing your acting skills this morning, huh?”

“And?” She holds her arms out as though she’s offering herself up for scrutiny.

I shrug. “Needs work.”

She scoffs, finally taking this opportunity to step fully over the threshold and fold herself into one of the rattan balcony chairs. The hem of my shirt hits her just below her butt, and pools in her lap when she sits. I can’t help thinking about what lies beneath and truly kicking myself for being a gentleman last night, even if I know it was the right decision for us both. If this is the part where she turns tail and runs, then it’s a good thing I’ll never truly know what I’m missing.

“You coming?” she asks with a tipped brow.

I move silently to the other seat and lower myself, hoping my boner isn’t too painfully apparent.

The wind kicks up, stirring a few of her wild hairs. I’m sure I look no different. As soundly as I slept with her beside me, I’m probably littered with sheet wrinkles and matted hair. There’s an intimacy to it that knots my throat. I’ve missed this. Having someone to wake up next to. It’s one of the simplest pleasures. A gift you don’t even fully appreciate until it’s gone.

Tess tilts her head in my direction. “What’s got your eyebrows in a bundle?”

I try to relax my scowl, but it’s here to stay. I take a sip of coffee, letting the warmth seep from my stomach out to my limbs, easing me deeper into the chair. Then I focus on Tess, squinting against all her bright light. “I’m just trying to enjoy this moment while it lasts.”

She draws her knees to her chest and, in a flash of creamy skin, pulls my shirt up and over her knees till they’re covered. I can just make out the curve where her butt becomes her thigh. The desire to bend over and bite her there is akin to my heartbeat with its resounding throbbing in my chest.

“You planning on going somewhere?”

“No,” I say honestly. “But I’m sure you are.”

She wraps her arms around her legs, coffee in hand and cradled against her shins. Then she lays her head on her knees and peers over at me with a soft expression. “I deserve that.”

“It wasn’t meant as a dig.”

“Good, because I didn’t take it as one.” The corners of her mouth dip. One finger taps out a steady rhythm against her coffee cup. “I meant what I said, Kit. I don’t know what this means for us. What it could ever turn into. My life is in constant flux, and that’s only going to get worse after this trip. I told you I couldn’t afford to waste this time because it’s thelasttime. I—I don’t think I’ll be coming back to the Carmen after this year.”

She pauses for dramatic effect. The thing is, I’d be more apt to believe her if she said it with an ounce of conviction. But I don’t say that, not even when her brow furrows in question. Instead I press my lips together and nod for her to go on.

Her lips part on a heavy sigh. She blinks, and when her eyes reopen, they are still trained on my face but unfocused, like she’s seeing something else entirely. “My life needs a complete overhaul. I don’t know what it will look like when the dust has settled. But as it turns out, resisting you is almost as distracting as just accepting how I feel and letting it all play out. So that’s what I’m offering. That's all Icanoffer. Me, for this little window of time before everything changes and I hopefully become someone you wouldn’t even recognize as Tess Monroe.”

A tear leaks from the corner of her eye and drips onto the bridge of her nose. I set my coffee on a little glass table to my right and then drag my chair closer till I can swipe that tear from her skin with the pass of my thumb. She gazes up at me, and it’s like a fist has grabbed hold of my heart. She seems so lost. I remember that feeling. Looking up in the middle of your life and realizing you don’t want to be where you’ve ended up, yet having no clue where to go from here.

I tuck a wild hair back behind her ear, then pinch the lobe before dropping my hand. “I’m all for growth, babe. I fully believe that if you don’t like something about your circumstances, then you should go balls to the wall on fixing it. Why do you think I left the only career I’d ever known and started over in Loveless?”

A smile slowly creeps over her wobbling lips.

“But you’ve got to realize something. You will always be recognizable to me. I’d notice you in any room you walked into, find you in any crowd. There’s no changing that. You’re like a lighthouse for me. You can repaint the exterior all you want, but the light’s what draws me in.”

Her eyelids flutter closed, like she’s letting my words wash over her and soaking them all in. I bite at the inside of my cheek, wincing as the stinging pain makes my eyes burn. Or maybe it’s all the emotion festering in my chest that has me tearing up.

Purples and oranges and dusky pinks illuminate the sky and, in turn, paint Tess’s skin the softest shades of morning. I itch to touch her. To reassure her. But the truth is, I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t know which way is up, only that this woman feels a lot like true north. I wish I could promise to be enough for her, but I can’t. The only thing I’m sure of is that, in whatever form, she’s more than enough for me.

“What are you saying?” Her voice is a strained whisper, nearly drowned out by the calls of seagulls waking to a new day and the waves eagerly lapping at the shore.

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