Page 68 of Holly Ever After

I smile, touched by his words. “Thanks.” I feel a blush creep up my cheeks as I nudge him playfully. “Proud of you too.”

“God, that must have killed you.”

I rub my throat. “I think I’m choking. Those words burned a little.” He flashes me one of those full smiles and my breath gets stuck in my lungs. “No, really. You've built a successful business from the ground up. You should be incredibly proud.”

For a moment, the playful, cocky Sean I've always known is gone, replaced by a man who's seen his share of struggles and has come out stronger.

The air between us thickens, brimming with an intensity that could be sliced through with a knife. When his lips finally meet mine, it's like a match to gasoline, igniting a blaze that radiates warmth from the pit of my stomach to the tips of my toes.

His lips are soft, a paradox to the firm grip he has on my waist. The kiss starts slow, almost a question, as if testing the waters. But when my mouth parts, allowing him to deepen the kiss, all hesitation vanishes.

“You're still an asshole,” I manage to whisper against his lips.

“And you still drive me insane,” he replies, voice husky and tinged with a promise of things to come.

It's a kiss that says what words can't: that despite everything, there’s a connection here that runs deeper than we’re willing to acknowledge.

As we finally pull away, both of us gasping for air but not wanting to let go, it's as though years of pent-up tension and emotion have been released, leaving us in a state of exhilarating vulnerability.

“We’re ruining the status quo, aren’t we?” is all I can muster.

“We ruined the status quo the minute you let me inside this cottage.”

∞∞∞

“Sean?” My voice is a whisper, barely disturbing the serene silence of the bedroom.

The room is dark, save for the sliver of moonlight that sneaks through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the tangled sheets that cocoon us. His breathing is deep and even, one of his arms tucked under the pillow while the other lazily drapes over my waist, a connection he seems to need even as he drifts off.

“Yeah, baby?” he mumbles, the words a warm hum in the darkness.

My stomach does that familiar flip, the one I've come to recognize as the 'Sean-effect'. I love it when he calls me that—as if I'm something precious, something cherished.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” His response is automatic, the word drawn out and coated with sleep.

I hesitate, biting my lower lip. Ever since I accused him of cheating on Ashley, curiosity has gnawed at me. I did some social media stalking, but it did little to help, offering tidbits of Ashley’s life post-Sean. They ended things three years ago. Later that year, she got married to someone else, but the shiny images turned to dust, ending in divorce. I can't help but wonder about the story untold, the pieces that don't fit together.

“You don't have to answer me, but what really happened between you and Ashley?”

There's a pause, and for a moment, I think he might have drifted off to sleep. But then his eyes open slowly, a little more alert, a little more present.

He lets out a long breath and laughs lightly, the sound almost sad. “You really need to work on your pillow talk.”

I remain silent, my heart pounding slightly, not expecting him to answer, but desperately hoping he will.

He sighs, his gaze fixed on some distant point, perhaps lost in the memories. “Ashley came from money. A lot of it. Her family...they were high society through and through.” He pauses, but there’s no tension there. Not anymore. “They didn't approve of our relationship. I was working on getting the business off the ground back then, and things were tough to begin with. They wanted her with someone...more on her level.”

My heart aches for him, the unfairness of it all pricking my eyes. How is that even possible? He's built a successful business from the ground up, he's funny, charming, ridiculously hot.

Ashley is an idiot.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper.

His hand reaches out, fingers stroking my cheek sleepily. “Don't be sad for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm. “Truth is, she did me a favor. We'd grown apart long before her family ever got involved. I wasn't in love with the woman she'd become.”

He places a brief, soft kiss on my forehead, a reassuring promise, before his arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer into the safe harbor of his body.

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