Page 120 of That Moment
“Long day,” she murmurs. “Fun, but long.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I bet. It looked amazing and everyone had fun.”
She lets out a soft hum of satisfaction, nestling closer against me. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer. For a moment, I let myself imagine it, her not leaving, her here beside me on some quiet night that’s ours, no one else around. The kind of life I’ve never thought I deserved.
Then she lifts her head, her eyes catching mine. They’re soft, searching. “Come over,” she whispers, “stay with me tonight?”
I swallow hard, thumb brushing along her jaw before I lean in. I kiss her once, slow and careful, like I’m trying to memorizeher mouth before she disappears again. “Okay,” I murmur against her lips.
And just like that, she’s smiling faintly, slipping her hand into mine. I follow her off the deck, down the steps, into the dark, knowing damn well I’m walking straight into heartbreak.
Her taillights cut through the dark like two red stars leading me down the winding ranch road. The night’s quiet out here, almost eerily so. There are no headlights behind us, no sounds except gravel popping beneath my tires and the steady hum of my engine. I keep a few car lengths back, letting her stay far enough ahead that she won’t feel me chasing. But that’s what it feels like. Chasing something that’s already slipping away.
My thoughts are a mess.
I tell myself not to think about Axel’s words. Not to picture Adrienne in L.A. But it’s all I can picture… the sun on her skin, that confident smile lighting up some big-city boardroom. Surrounded by powerful men in suits who can actuallymatchher, challenge her. Give her the kind of life she deserves.
I grip the steering wheel harder, the leather creaking under my palms. We never said this was forever. Hell, we barely said anything at all. No labels, no promises. Justsee where it goes.
And maybe this is exactly where it goes.
I glance at her brake lights ahead, soft red glow fading and flaring again with each curve. I can almost see her hand on the wheel, her profile in the dashboard light, that steady focus she has when she’s driving. She probably doesn’t even realize what she does to me just by existing in the same stretch of road.
The worst part is knowing this, whatever it’s been, was on me from the start. I could’ve told her. Weeks ago, months ago. Years ago. Every damn chance I had, I held back. Always telling myself she needed someone better, that I’d only screw it up if I tried to hold on too tight.
But seeing her tonight, laughing like that, with everyone she loves around her… And hearing she’s already planning to leave, it feels like I’ve been standing in neutral while she’s been flooring it toward something bigger.
My stomach knots. I shouldn’t even be following her right now. I should let her go, let her live whatever dream she’s always had. But the idea of not touching her again, not hearing her laugh in the quiet dark, not tasting her name on my tongue one last time, it makes my chest ache like it’s splitting open.
I turn down her long gravel drive, headlights sweeping across the white fence line, the soft curve of her house glowing ahead under the porch light. I ease in behind her, kill the engine, and just sit there for a second. My hands rest on the steering wheel, jaw clenched, heart pounding so hard it hurts.
I tell myself again not to say anything. Not tonight. She doesn’t need another mess to deal with before she leaves. But I can’t walk into that house pretending I’m not wrecked over her.
If this is it, if this is the last time, I’m going to make it count. I’m going to make her feel every goddamn reason she should stay.
I step out of the truck, gravel crunching under my boots, and watch her unlock her front door. She turns, gives me a small smile, that same soft look that always undoes me.
And just like that, every good intention burns out. By the time she pushes the door open and steps inside, I already know I’m not here to talk. I’m here to lose myself in her.
The second the door clicks shut behind us, I’m on her.
She turns toward me, lips parting to say something, but I don’t give her the chance. My fingers tangle in her hair, tilting her head back as I crash my mouth to hers. It’s not gentle. It’s months of unsaid things…hell, years, poured into one moment.
Her back hits the wall with a muffled thud. I cage her in, chest pressed tight to hers, breathing her in like oxygen. Shetastes like wine, her lips parting on a small gasp that shoots straight through me.
“Scotty—” she breathes, voice already strangled with need.
I swallow her words with another kiss, deeper, rougher. She fists my shirt and drags me closer, kissing me back like she’s been starving too. Every sound, every breath between us turns into something desperate and messy. My hands slide down her body, gripping her hips, bunching her dress higher until the soft fabric gathers at her waist. My palms find smooth, bare skin.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I mutter against her mouth. She trembles when I trace the edge of her panties, fingers slipping beneath the thin lace. She’s wet already, and the sound that leaves her throat nearly undoes me. I press my forehead to hers, breathing hard. “You have any idea what you do to me?”
Her fingers tangle in my hair, nails grazing my scalp. “Show me.”
That’s all it takes. I slide two fingers inside her, slow at first, then deeper, curling them until her breath shatters against my lips. She grips my shoulders, moaning softly as I work her open, thumb circling her clit in lazy, torturous strokes.
“Right here,” I whisper, voice low and rough. “I want to feel you come for me before we even make it upstairs.”
She gasps, head falling back against the wall. I catch her throat lightly in my hand, just to feel her pulse racing against my palm.
