“About us.” After a beat of silence, he continued. “When I heard that you got engaged, I lost my shit.” He let out a laugh. “Seriously. I did things that still make me feel like a fool when I look back on them. I panicked.”
I folded my lips and gazed at him with wariness. Did I really want to go there now? It struck me that I’d avoided it long enough. “Why?”
He captured my gaze. “I panicked because, in my mind, that meant I’d never get a second chance with you. A part of me held on to that sliver of hope even though we hadn’t seen each other in twelve years.”
I pulled in a deep breath but stayed quiet.
“Now that you’re here with me… Well, not really, because we’refakedating. Still, it’s been an incredible few days. I wish we were really together. That’s what I want, but I’ve been afraid to say it. I fucked up the first time, and there’s a good chance you won’t want what I want.”
He exhaled as if he’d been holding that breath for years. However, his shoulders were still tense as he awaited my response.
“How long have you been holding on to all that?” I asked.
“Too long,” he murmured.
I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “I…” That pesky sliver of fear kept popping up, but I pushed it back. “I want what you want. Let’s stop pretending.”
His expression froze for a beat, then his eyebrows lifted with disbelief—like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right.
I chuckled. “Not the response you were expecting.”
He blinked and then let out a breathless laugh. “Honestly, I thought you’d tell me I was drunk and delusional.”
“Well, we are pretty tipsy after all that rum.”
He grinned at that.
“And maybe we’re both delusional, but I’m sure I want us to try again.”
His laughter wrapped around me, warming to the core. It was the same sound I remembered from our summer nights, wrapped up in each other, talking and laughing about the silliest things.
“In that case, you just made me the happiest delusional man on this beach.”
I laughed too because we were still us. It was like all the years between us never existed. He reached for me and had me in his arms before I could blink. He lay back in the sand, tugging me with him until I was sprawled across his chest. His arms were strong and sure as he rolled us over and swooped down to capture my mouth.
Our kiss was deep and slow, the kind that could melt a person from the inside out.
“I missed this,” he whispered when we paused for air.
I knew exactly what he meant. The moon and stars above us, the sand beneath us, as we lay wrapped in each other’s arms. It felt like I was nineteen again, completely consumed by the guy who had stolen my heart.
“Me too.”
I settled with my head on his shoulder, and we stared at the sky in comfortable silence.
27
AVA
The late afternoon sun spilled across the terrace of Lincoln’s penthouse. I sat cross-legged on one of the cushioned lounge chairs with my laptop balanced on my thighs. I scrolled through the newest batch of files Alex had sent me. There were names, time-stamped texts, flight records, and party guest lists. They all pointed to Silas Rourke, who was Dorian Vauxhall’s link to a huge chunk of Hollywood.
Those two were the real culprits, not a scared and sad pop star or athletes who were going down the wrong path. I pulled up another tab that had a photo of him arm-in-arm with Phoenix Sky, that fabulous pop star. But I could clearly see Nyla Monro, the sweet girl who wanted to be saved, beneath the mask. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
I zoomed in on another document. It was a bank transaction to a shell company registered under one of the names I’d seen in Nyla’s contact. She had contacted me and was willing to share the document. I still hadn’t told her what I was doing, just that I had connections that might get her out of the bullshit contract she’d been suckered into signing.
I rubbed my forehead. My brain was near ready to explode with the ton of information I had to sift through, and the connections I had to make.
“Goodness, how deep does this thing go?” I sighed.
