Page 95 of The Love Rematch
Jake looks up.
He’s no longer alone on the beach. A shadowy figure stands in the shallows a few feet away, the same one that’s been haunting him his whole life. As a child, he cowered. As a teen, he raged. But when he stares at the ghost of his father now, he feels nothing. The man is dead. He’s gone. And it’s time for Jake to leave him where he belongs—in the past.
Seven years ago, he walked away from the love of his life. It was torturous, the hardest thing he’d ever done.
This is easy.
Jake is calm as he stands and shrugs out of his suit jacket. His pulse is even as he kicks off his shoes and digs his toes into the sand. When he walks through the phantom, it dissipates on impact, no power but the power he’d given it. Then he’s in the water. The surf is tranquil, almost glassy. His arms slice through liquid obsidian. Jake loses himself in the stroke, his body burning in a familiar way after so many mornings spent surfing off the California coast. The glow of her villa guides him forward. Nothing else matters. Not the creatures lurking beneath the surface. Not the cameras looming above. Not the emotional cargo left behind. There’s nothing but him, and this swim, and the place to which he’s finally, after seven years, returning.
Home.
Because that’s what she is. That’s what she’ll always be.
His home.
CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
emily
It startsas a tickle at the back of her neck, this sense she’s not alone. Emily turns to the door, waiting for Nina to burst through, or Trish, or Fred, or any number of crew. She’s restless. On edge. She’s spent the past hour pacing across the living room of her suite, staring down at the glass floor while fish dart beneath her feet. Yes, actual fish. From the ocean. Because this is the most amazing hotel room she’s ever seen—it has a freaking water slide!—in the most beautiful place she’s ever been—a literal paradise!—and yet, a storm cloud hovers overhead. Tomorrow her family comes. And while she itches to wrap Sam in the biggest bear hug and finally fill her in on the past few weeks, the rest is terrifying. Her parents don’t know the truth. They never have. They thought the bloodwork request from her gynecologist came after a routine checkup, not a pregnancy scare. They thought the breakup with Jake had been like that of any other teen romance. And while everything that came after made her experience with Jake feel almost trivial in hindsight, she’s scared shitless to tell them she spent the majority of her senior year in high school sneaking her boyfriend into her room while they were sleeping.
She can almost hear her mother now.Emily Ann Peters, I am incredibly disappointed in your behavior. What were you thinking?
The same thing every teenager with raging hormones, a serious boyfriend, and a single-story home was probably thinking, but still.
And okay, she’s now an adult in her twenties, living in her own apartment, running her own business, and faking a passionate love affair on national TV. They can’t ground her, or take away her cell phone, or revoke her driving privileges anymore. But that word,disappointed, rings in her head like a gong, shattering rational thought.
Emily glances at the clock.
Ten more hours and they’ll be here. She should sleep. Or at least rest. Or maybe throw open the door and figure out why her skin is crawling with the unmistakable sensation of being watched. Except…the tingle isn’t coming from the direction of the front door.
Huh?
She follows the feeling.
Her head turns toward the back porch as if pulled by a string. Shadows dance on the other side of the curtains. She turns off her light, sinking her room into darkness. The silhouette of a man outlined by moonlight plays over the fabric. Her heart pinches with anticipation. She knows immediately who the phantom presence belongs to, but when she throws open the curtains to confront Jake, the sight of him takes her breath away.
Rivulets of water stream from his dark hair. Glistening droplets cascade down hooded brows, over defined cheekbones, and along a razor-sharp jaw to drip from his chin. His eyes are closed, giving her gaze the freedom to roam unwatched. The fabric of his white button-down clings to him like a second skin. Hard ridges line his abdomen. Muscles cord up his arms. A smattering of dark hair covers his chiseled chest. It’s everything she saw at the bungee jump, yet somehow more now that they’re alone in the moonlight. The sheer expanse of him overwhelms. The Jake she knew was always tall, if a little gangly, but in the seven years they’ve been apart, he’s grown into his frame. He’s filled it out in all the best ways.
She can almost see herself holding on to his broad shoulders for dear life, can almost feel her nails digging into his skin. Her fingers stretch forward of their own accord, itching to touch, but instead they hit glass. The softtapof her nails is just enough to draw his attention. Jake’s deep blue eyes spring open and sharpen on her immediately.
Electricity crackles between them.
It always has.
It always will.
But she’s done playing games.
Emily regains control of her wayward hand and opens the sliding door. A rush of cool night air brings a shiver to her skin.
“What are—”
She begins to tell him off, but he silences her with two rushed words. “You’re enough.”
His voice is so overcome with emotion it emerges as a rough growl, and that deep rumble touches Emily in a place that’s been dead for seven years.
She freezes.
