Her mouth on mine. Fierce. Desperate. Shaking.
I froze. One full heartbeat where I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
Because she tasted the same. After everything, the years, the distance, the silence, she tasted exactly the same. Coffee and salt and something underneath that was just her. The thing I'd been chasing in every kiss that came after and never found.
My hands moved before my mind caught up. One in her hair, pulling the tie loose, fingers threading through dark strands. The other pressed flat against the small of her back, drawing her closer.
Closer. Like I could erase the years by eliminating the space between us.
She made a sound against my mouth. Half sob, half relief. Her hands found my hair, my jaw, the back of my neck. Holding on like I might disappear if she loosened her grip.
I kissed her harder. Slower. Trying to memorize what I'd spent eight years forgetting.
The way her bottom lip fit between mine. The way she tilted her head just slightly to the left. The soft sound in the back of her throat that I used to hear in my sleep for months after she left.
She was shaking. Or I was. Both of us, maybe.
Salt from her tears on my lips. The desperate edge underneath the softness, her fingers pressing into my skin like she was bracing for this to be taken away.
I pulled back just enough to breathe. Barely an inch.
Her lips chased mine.
"I'm not going anywhere," I murmured against her mouth.
She kissed me again. Softer this time. Slower. Like she was choosing to believe it.
When we finally broke apart, she pressed her forehead to mine. Both of us breathing hard. Both of us shaking.
Her thumb traced the line of my cheekbone. I closed my eyes.
The weight of her. The warmth. The impossible, terrifying reality that she was here, in my arms, after all this time.
She was here.
She came back.
CHAPTER 13
Garrett
The kiss changed somewherebetween the couch and the hallway.
What started as relief shifted into something hungrier. Her hands in my hair. My mouth on her throat. The small sound she made when I pressed her against the wall.
I'd imagined this. More times than I'd ever admit. Late nights staring at the ceiling, remembering the weight of her body against mine. The taste of her skin. The sounds she used to make in the dark.
I'd replayed those memories until they wore thin. Until I wasn't sure what was real and what I'd invented to survive the missing.
This was real.
Her hips were pinned beneath my hands. Her pulse was hammering against my lips. The heat of her burning through that old shirt.
"Garrett." My name came out breathless. "We should?—"
"We should?" I pulled back just enough to see her face. Flushed. Eyes dark. Lips swollen from kissing. "Tell me what you want."
"You." No hesitation. "I want you."
