I riffled through my dresser and grabbed a pair of drawstring pants and an old Langdon sweatshirt. I set them on the bathroom counter with a clean towel, then went back for Emery. I started to take the blanket from her, but she gripped my wrists. Her blue eyes, streaked with mascara and red with tears, met mine.
“Do you want to know what I thought when you came to get me tonight?” she asked. “When you put this blanket around me? I thought…now I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
My eyes fell shut, my heart aching. “I’m sorry, Emery. I’m so sorry.”
“You don’t have to be. I should never have gotten in that truck.”
“And if I’d been there, you wouldn’t have.” She started to protest but gave up as I guided her to the bathroom. “You’re freezing. Get warmed up, and I’ll make you some tea, okay?”
She nodded and shut the door behind her.
I sagged as the adrenaline and raw emotion of the night drained away. A shiver reminded me I was soaking wet too. I changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, then went to the kitchen. The old kettle took forever to heat. When the water was hot enough, I made mint tea and took a steaming mug back to my loft. There, I shut the door and turned to see Emery at my desk. Her face was scrubbed clean, herdamp hair glistening like dark gold ribbons. My sweatshirt hung loose on her, and the sleep pants I’d lent her spilled over her small feet.
And in her hand was the dried daffodil.
I froze, my throat tightening and my heart stuttering at her beauty, as the unmistakable, undeniable truth washed over me—as obvious as the flower in her hand.
I’m hers. I’ve always been hers.
“I didn’t mean to pry, but this is the book you were reading when we met.”
“Yes,” I said thickly. “You remember that?”
“I remember every minute of that day, Xander. Every second.”
“So do I.”
“Because it meant something, didn’t it?” she asked, her eyes so full of love and hope, I could hardly look at her, she was so beautiful.
“Yeah, Em,” I whispered. “It meant everything.”
Emery smiled softly. Knowingly. And with that smile, the fight went out of me. All the hesitation, the walls of reasons and logic I’d barricaded myself behind…it all came crashing down.
Everything that happened after was as inevitable as my next breath.
I set down the mug of tea on my desk, and she returned the flower to its place. I brushed the hair off her shoulders while she took my glasses off and set them beside the tea. In the next instant, she was in my arms. I pulled her in close and bent to press my forehead to hers, leaving only the smallest, heated space between us.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” I answered gruffly.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” I swallowed hard. “Emery…”
“I know you’re scared of being hurt. So am I. But I think that what we feel for each other is more powerful than fear. And we can’t think about what might happen later.” Her hands went to my hair, her fingers threading at my nape. “We have to trust that it will work itself out. Because you and me…something happened that day sevenyears ago, and we can’t pretend it didn’t.” She smiled, her lips close to mine. “We’re entangled.”
I nodded and pulled back to look into her eyes. “Whatever happens to you, happens to me.”
Emery made a little sound that was half sob, half laugh, her expression one of pure happiness and want—want ofme. It illuminated her from the inside out. I bent my head, savoring the smoldering burn a little longer—this first touch would never come again—before lowering my mouth to hers and kissing her.
Our lips met, and I nearly stumbled as raw hunger swept through me, trying to steal my strength. I’d dreamt of this moment countless times, imagining how she’d feel, how she’d taste, and yet, I was unprepared for reality.
Emery’s soft mouth parted with a little gasp, as if she too was shocked by the intensity of our connection. We moved apart just a tiny bit, our eyes meeting, before we crashed together again. Our arms tightened, pressing our bodies together—her softness against my hardness. She whimpered as my tongue ventured into her mouth, tasting and touching—gently at first, then with urgency. Making up for lost time. Every kiss we should have had before this night was in this one. Our lost time reclaimed; our lost connection rebuilt. Finally. At last.
Emery responded with soft moans, letting me in, her tongue tangling with mine. Exploring with soft curiosity but heat too. Desire that simmered, wanting to ignite into something more…but not tonight. Tonight was to show her, with this kiss, that she had been right about everything. To infuse this moment with the warmth and satiation of our reunion. Because that’s what it was. Not just seven years or seven weeks but lifetimes were in this kiss, bursting forth after lying dormant and waiting.
The notion made no sense; I could only measure its veracity by the force of the need, the sheer relief of this coming together. Emotions that defied logic left my head reeling. Thoughts cleared away to makespace for the pure desire I had for this girl. Desire to have her, protect her, and give myself up to her, all at the same time.
