Page 84 of By Your Side
But for me? It shook me down to the studs.
Because I wanted more.
Always more with her.
I tipped my head back, eyes closing as I thought about the pact—the one we’d made so long ago, laughing at the idea that we’d ever be this old. Back then, she’d never meant it as a real proposal. It was just words. A safety net. A way of saying: if the world lets us down, at least we’ll have each other.
But the older I got, the more those words dug in. Somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking of it as a joke. I wanted her. Wanted this. And not just because of the pact, not because I owed something to the past. Because of who she was now. Who she’d always been.
I had wanted to start something real with her. And I hadn’t been sure if she wanted the same—or if I was just the person holding her together while the rest of her life spun out of control. But now I knew, and I felt like my heart would soar out of my chest every time I let myself feel it.
The door creaked behind me, voices spilling out, then quiet again when it shut. My pulse kicked, wanting it to be her. But it wasn’t. Just someone sneaking out for a smoke.
I turned away, staring at the gravel lot instead of the glow spilling from the windows. My chest ached, tight with the kind of longing that doesn’t fade no matter how much you try to smother it. She kissed me in front of everyone. She wanted me close. Finally.
The crunch of gravel behind me was soft, but I knew it was her before I turned. Some part of me always knew when it was Paige.
“You hiding out here?” she asked, her voice carrying that teasing edge she used when she didn’t want me to hear the worry underneath.
I turned, and there she was—purple dress catching the light, her hair loose around her shoulders, cheeks flushed from the warmth and noise inside. She looked radiant. Like the center of the whole damn universe had decided to set up shop in Honeybrook Hollow and wear sequins for the occasion.
“Just needed some air,” I said. My voice came out rougher than I meant it to.
She stepped closer, arms wrapping around herself against the chill. “I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”
God. If she only knew.
“I’m not avoiding you,” I said, forcing the words past the knot in my throat. “Not when you’re everything I’ve always wanted.”
Her eyes searched mine, like she was looking for something I wasn’t sure I could hide. “Then what are you doing out here?”
“Trying to remember how to breathe.”
That startled a laugh out of her, soft and a little shaky. She shook her head, blond hair catching the light. “You and your lines.”
“Not a line,” I said, taking a step closer, my hands still jammed in my pockets so I wouldn’t do what I really wanted—pull her against me, then take her home so I could have her all to myself.
Instead, I tilted my head toward the tavern. “This party’s for you. You should be in there, soaking it up.”
“Maybe I’d rather be out here with you.”
She was so close now I could see the little flecks of gold in her gorgeous brown eyes, could feel the warmth of her in the cool night air. And I thought—if she asked me to, I’d stay with her forever.
But she didn’t. She just looked at me like she was working up the courage to say something big, then she let out a breath and slipped her hand into mine.
“Come back inside with me,” she said softly.
And just like that, the ache in my chest shifted—still there, still sharp, but threaded with hope. I let out a low breath and turned our hands over, lacing my fingers through hers. Her skin was soft against the rough calluses on my palms, and I couldn’t help rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand like I was memorizing the shape of her.
“Paige…” My voice cracked a little, so I swallowed hard and tried again. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. “You’re just saying that because I’m in sequins.”
“No,” I said firmly, tugging her a little closer. The light painted her skin in gold, the purple of her dress shimmering every time she shifted. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Sequins don’t matter. You’d still knock the breath out of me if you walked out here in flannel and boots. But tonight, you remind me of prom night. Back in my truck. Purple and sparkly and wearing your heart on your sleeve.”
That got me a soft laugh, one that warmed the cold night air between us. She tilted her head up toward me. Her lips parted just a little, and then mine brushed hers—light, teasing. The slightest touch, but enough to have my heart kicking against my ribs. She made the faintest sound, and it undid me. I deepened the kiss, sliding my free hand around her waist, feeling the soft fabric of her dress under my palm.
Her hand tightened in mine, the other sliding up to rest against my chest like she needed to feel my heartbeat.
