“Then how?”
“After class I went back and retrieved it.”
“Why?”
“If you ask the eighteen-year-old me, he didn’t know. He just did it. His world was chaotic and he thought he was the cause of everything falling apart around him. He didn’t know which of his parents’ sides he was supposed to take. He was scared and even more scared of showing it. Everyone at school didn’t care, all they cared about was his place on the swim team, so that’s what he worked at. But this was different... It was like someone saw him, right inside, the vulnerable kid just trying to work out his place. It hurt so much that he couldn’t take it, so he pushed back, rejecting everything that made him feel that way. You bore the brunt of that, and he kept going until he was sure you would never see that person inside him again.”
He stops, his head bowed, not looking at me. His shoulders heave as if he’s finding it hard to keep it together, and I wonder if he’s ever told anyone that before. I’ve misjudged him completely. I hate what he did, it did a lot of damage, but it was a long time ago and I’ve dealt with it. I can see the pain Reece must have gone through, and while I still wish it’d never happened, now I understand it, I can’t hate the person who did it.
I scoot along the bed to be closer to him, and lay a hand on his back, feeling him shudder slightly beneath my touch. He twists his head to look at me, and I can see the regret and sorrow brimming in his large dark eyes.
“This is a lot for me to process right now, s-so please give me some time. But I-I know you’re not that person anymore,” I whisper.
He gives me a sad smile like he can’t take that in right now, but he leans slightly into my touch. He looks down at the heart I’mstill holding and gently takes it from me. He almost caresses it in what looks like a familiar gesture.
“Over the years this has been like an anchor to me, a calm spot in my chaos. And then when I went to England it was a little piece of home. It grounded me and also gave me hope.” His voice is quiet and wistful. The knowledge that he’s carried it with him all this time fills my chest with butterflies, their wings beating an erratic rhythm for a chance I never thought possible.
“What hope?” I whisper.
“That one day I could bring it back to you.”
The beat against my ribs feels so loud I think he might be able to hear it. Could my dreams come true? Probably not. He hasn’t given any indication that he thinks of me like that. He’s just been polite and friendly. I try to keep my voice level as I ask.
“Y-you said if I asked the eighteen-year-old you, he wouldn’t know why he went back for the heart. H-has time given you a different perspective?”
This time he doesn’t look away. “He didn’t know it back then, but he secretly had a crush on the guy who gave it to him.”
“D-d-did he?” I croak, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak.
“Yes.”
“And now?”
He turns around a little further so he’s nearly facing me. “Twenty years hasn’t changed much.” He lifts a hand and runs a finger down my face and along my jaw. “It just feels odd to still call it a crush at my age.”
He leans forward and gently kisses me. His lips are soft with a hint of coffee. I melt into him as he deepens the kiss, slowly exploring with his tongue. It’s perfect and the butterflies swoop in my chest before they break free, leaving me feeling light-headed. It’s worth the twenty year wait.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Reece
I hadn’t planned to kiss Holden, especially not after I’d just bared my soul to him. Though I can’t say I haven’t thought about kissing him often. In the moment I couldn’t resist, and he didn’t pull away. He seemed to welcome it. When I pull back his eyes are shining and his lips are wet and slightly parted. With his sleep-mussed hair he looks incredibly sexy.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I couldn’t help it.”
“You’re s-sorry for kissing me?” He frowns.
“No, not for the kiss. Sorry if I misread the situation and overstepped.”
“Reece, I’ve been waiting t-twenty years for that kiss,” he says huskily.
Oh!
“I want to do it again.” This time he connects his lips with mine and I pull him closer, wrapping an arm around his waist.
“I need a shower,” he mutters breathlessly when we stop. He climbs off the bed and it takes all of my willpower not to pull him back and kiss him some more, but if I do, I won’t be able to stop there. This feels like it could be the start of something and I don’t want to rush it. He heads into the bathroom, taking his clothes with him, and I stay where I am, giving my boner time to go away.
I’m slightly disappointed when he reappears fully dressed, but also thankful that he is.
