Page 58 of Redemption
She crinkles her nose, and a part of me wonders if she’s thinking about our mom. This will be her first holiday without her. Vivienne hasn’t gone to see her, and neither have I. We’ve talked here and there about the situation, but she seems content with never speaking to her again. There’s no apology big enough to undo what she tried to take from us. But more than that… I’m done yearning for a love that was never unconditional to begin with. Some goodbyes are necessary, and this one was as healing as it gets.
The biggest thing I’ve learned since meeting Wyatt? The value of just living. About how love is messy. It’s fighting and sacrifice. It’s jumping over hurdles and climbing mountains. It’s swimming to the bottom of the ocean because the other is drowning. It’s not just compromise or clinging to what could be.
“Whit,” Vivienne nudges her horse closer when she notices I’ve gone quiet. “You, okay?”
I look out across the land. Towards the house. My daughter. My soul-horse. The man I love. “Yeah. I am,” I finally say. And for the first time in a long, long time, it’s true. I dismount slowly, boots hitting the ground with a soft thud, and head down the hill toward Wyatt and Brinley. She sees me coming and takes off again, arms flailing, curls bouncing behind her like she’s flying. Wyatt grins up at me as I reach him, dirt on his shirt and pure love in his blue eyes. “You gonna help me catch her?”
I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Nah. I think I’ll keep chasing you instead.” He laughs, head tipping back. The sound is warm and easy, making my skin flush. “You don’t have to chase me, Winnie. I’m right here.”
For so long I thought I didn’t deserve this. But then I met him, and I had Brinley. And standing here now, I see it for what it is. This life, this family–it’smychance to break the cycle.
Prologue Bonus Content
WYATT
If you had told me this morning that I’d have Whitney Adler pinned against a brick wall, moaning and whimpering with each touch of my lips on her skin—I’d say you were insane. I would have laughed in your face and went on with my day.
But alas, here I am.
And fuck me, I think I’ll die if she stops kissing me.
I’ve never been obsessed with someone. Not likethis.I feel like a teenager again, chasing a high I can’t fully grasp. After just a few hours with her, I want every detail. I want to find everyone who’s ever put tears in her eyes and weight on her shoulders and make them disappear. I want her to tell memore,sharemore.
I knew her—God, of course, I knew her. She ran around with Wesley and Blake when we were kids. I’ve always thought she was gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that you only admire from afar. She’s younger than me, and being Blake’s only friend, completely off limits.
I just didn’t expect to actually enjoy her company.
It’s ridiculous. Delusional. So far out of reach I’m tempted to peek around the corner and see if I’m being punked. I’ve been with plenty of women. One-night stands were simple—always a mutual transaction and something to pass the time.Because dating isn’t in the cards for me. I don’tliketo date. But something tells me Whitney will have me begging on my knees by the end of this.
There are so, so many ways this could go wrong. So many reasons we shouldn’t be kissing in an alleyway after dark. We’ve had a fair share of alcohol, but we also stopped drinking hours ago. On top of that? The womanjustgot out of a relationship.
But how the hell am I supposed to stop when she whispers my name likethat? “Fuck,” I mutter, “Say that again.”
“Wyatt,” Whitney repeats against my lips. My palm slams against the wall beside her head as the other comes to cup the thigh that’s just wrapped around my waist. “My apartment.”
I pause, pulling away far enough to glance over her features but staying close enough that my breath mingles with her. I swallow, searching her eyes for any hesitation or doubt, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Don’t have to tell me twice. I slam my lips against hers again. We’re a slow blur of tangled limbs and half-hearted directions to her apartment. By the time we make it inside, a trail of clothes follows us into her upstairs bedroom. My knees hit the end of the bed, sending us careening for the small mattress below. Her hips are between my legs, my hand is beneath her head, but before we can get lost in the sheets—I pull away.
I step back from the bed. I’m not really sure why. Maybe I needed a second to breathe, or maybe I just needed to take her in before ruining her for any other man.
I watch her as she watches me. We both track each other’s movements, waiting to see who will make the first move. It’s quiet, and the air is tense with lust and desire. Whitney’s eyes near leave mine as a small smirk curls the edge of her mouth. She pushes up on her elbow and reaches behind her back.
My breath catches in anticipation before the black bra falls away. Not only does she look like a young Marilyn Monroe, but she has the body of a porn star. Her chest is full, but perky, and from just one glance I know they’ll barely fit in the palm of my hand. The urge to pull one of her rose-colored nipples into my mouth is overpowering. As I continue to take in every curve and dip on full display I groan, “It’s like you were custom made just for me.”
The black hair, flawless skin, the slim nose—Jesus, even that little freckle on the corner of her mouth…
It’s true. I’d be able to touch her with my eyes closed after tonight. There’s no chance I’d forget the way her hips dip, or the way her eyes flutter when I touch her.
I just can’t tell if she’ll be my heaven or hell.
Whitney groans, head tipping back towards the ceiling. “Stop talking.”
If it weren’t for the blush that crawls up her neck and onto her pretty face, I’d think she meant it. Either way—I don’t care. I’m gonna make her scream my name until we’re both sick of it. I reach forward and wrap my hand around her slim ankle, eliciting a surprised yelp from her when I tug her towards the end of the bed. When her eyes drop to my lips, every thought ebbs away and I nearly forget all about my new mission. “Happy to,” I manage to grit out.
Her eyes narrow, “That’s still- Oh!”
