I shrug. “I haven’t decided.”
He shrugs. “I’m sure I’ve drunk worse. This one time...” And he goes into some elaborate pranks his brothers have pulled.
Everyone was right, he’s a good storyteller. We sit around the fire for what feels like hours. I keep hoping she’ll come out, but she doesn’t.
The fire crackles, and the night stretches on. Bronx retires, but I spend the night out here again.
It’s not until the next morning, when the first slivers of light haven’t even kissed the horizon, that I see her sneak away from the campground.
I get up and follow, keeping my distance, unsure if I can muster the courage that my brother instilled in me.
She stops at a secluded spot just beyond the camp, a little clearing tucked away, and sits in nature, like it’s a part of her.
Watching her like this, so at peace, so beautiful, it tears at a longing so deep it feels like it could swallow me whole.
It hits me like a wave.
The ache.
The wanting.
And I know, this is the moment I’m going to bare my soul to her.
34: BARE CONFESSIONS
JADE
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I HEAR FOOTSTEPS behind me. I don’t need to turn around to know who they belong to.
I draw my knees closer, hugging them tightly as I stare at the darkened sky through the trees.
The air is still and cool. A faint chill nips at my skin, but I’m bundled in my favorite sweater, soft, worn, and familiar.
There’s something about the quiet before the world wakes up that always calms the noise in my head.
“You’re up early.” Hart’s voice is a sexy, low, and rough from sleep.
Great. Something else to add to the dream bank I can’t seem to shake from my head.
Especially after last night.
All night, I dreamt of his eyes, burning into me, like he couldn’t look at me enough. Like, really look at me for the first time in years.
I still feel his every touch, every brush, every caress, and every firm grasp.
But it’s so much more than the physical aspect.
He touched me like he’d been waiting his whole life. He held me like he never wanted to let go. I tasted the struggle in his kiss,the war between holding back and giving in. I saw love in him, deep and desperate, and shadowed by scars he tried to hide.
Why now?
Why did he walk away all those years ago?
Why did he spend his whole life making me believe he hated me? Like I was nothing more than just a fleeting moment to him.
I don’t look at him. “The sunrise was calling my name.”
