Page 127 of Revival

“I wouldn’t say I waltzed out of it.” The edge of my tone is harder than I intend.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be flippant.”

I tip back my beer, ignoring the feeling of someone staring at me. “Not your apology to make, Kitten. I just don’t want you to ever think leaving was easy. It was one of the hardest fucking things I’ve done.”

Until the fire and losing Lucas, leaving Fairview Valley was the most difficult moment of my life. A moment that stretched over two fucking decades.

Not my father walking away.

Not starting my life over a state away.

Nothing compares to the self-inflicted pain I suffered because I was too weak to stand up for myself and my family.

“What is it?” The warmth of her hand covering mine returns me to the present. Her fingertips naturally fall along the ridge of damaged skin, but I take comfort in the way she doesn’t flinch.

“There’s more to the story.”

She throws her hands up and leans back in her seat, picking up her drink. “Great. I tattooed myself again for a man, and he’s about to tell me about a secret wife or something.”

“You’re the only wife I intend to have in this lifetime, Cortney Powell.”

“You mean that?” One sentence turns her voice from sarcastic to emotional.

“Would I say it if I didn’t?”

“I’d like to think not. That’d be cruel.” The lower line of her lashes glisten as she blinks rapidly.

“What do you say, gorgeous? Think you’d be willing to give another man a chance?” I lean closer, and my voice dips. “That man being me.”

She leans closer too. “Are you proposing?”

My lips spread in a wide grin. “Not yet. This is just a conversation. When I get down on one knee, I want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“My life has been entwined with yours since we were teens. We’ve been writing our story in the same book.”

“I don’t know. There’s lots to go over.”

“Like what?”

I’m momentarily distracted by the couple at the bar looking our way. I shove away the vulnerability.

“What’s your favorite color?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Today, it’s coral. Last week, it was hot pink.”

“See and mine’s green. We just learned something new about each other.”

“Your favorite color has always been green.”

The gotcha awaits on the tip of my tongue. I lean forward on my elbows. “Ah, but yours used to be blue. Cerulean. Not navy.”

“I’m impressed.” Cortney leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. The move deepens her cleavage. Her creamy skin is soft and inviting where it spills above the square neckline of her dress.

“Since you can’t quit looking, are you a tits man or an ass man?”

A scan of our surroundings reveals two men beside us salivating. I shoot them a scowl. “Yours,” I blurt.

“Sorry?” She laughs.

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