TWENTY-THREE
“Ouch.” I groan as I hit the ground for the second time today, my butt absorbing the impact in a way that promises bruises tomorrow. The pavement isn’t exactly forgiving, and I swear it has it out for me.
“That’s going to leave a mark,” Ace says with a laugh, skating up to me and holding out his hand.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I grumble, letting him pull me up.
“You got cocky, baby goat.”
I cringe. “Oh my God, please don’t call me that.”
“All right,Trouble.” His grin widens, and he leans in, brushing a kiss against my lips. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Just a little.” I dust myself off as Ace reaches behind me, patting my ass to clear away the dirt.
He’s bolder now, and I love it. Every little touch is a victory, a sign that the walls he’s built are starting to crumble. His knuckles trace over my hand here and there, his arm brushes against mine like it’s second nature, and his lips—which offer quick, soft kisses—are addictive.
“Do you want to go another round, or is the lesson done for today?” He smiles as he says it, and I find myself cataloging every detail of him. The lines in his face that weren’t there eightyears ago, the faint scars I don’t remember, the way his hair is a little longer now, curling at the ends.
But it’s his lips that capture my attention. There’s a small scar that nicks his bottom lip, and all I can think about is kissing him.
“Maybe we can do a different lesson,” he murmurs. “One I already taught you eight years ago. But this time, I’m the one who needs a refresher.”
My gaze snaps up to meet his. “What?”
“Kiss me,” he demands quickly. “I mean, can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, barely able to get the word out as he closes the distance between us.
At first, it’s hesitant, a soft press of his lips against mine, like the ones he’s given the past couple of days. But then he lingers, pressing into me more, and the heat of him seeps in as his lips start to move against mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach, fluttering wildly as my hands find his chest for balance without thinking, but he doesn’t budge or flinch.
It’s the sweetest kiss, no tongue, no urgency, just lips and shared breaths. It feels like a promise of love whispered in the quiet moments between heartbeats.
All too soon, he pulls back, but the smile he gives me is everything. “I fucking missed you like crazy,” he admits on a breath. “I died that day, eight years ago, even if I kept breathing. You’ve made me come alive again.”
My throat tightens, words failing me as I try to tell him that I feel the same. That I’ve missed him with every piece of my soul. Then the sound of a loud engine tears through the moment, cutting us off.
We turn to see a monstrosity of a white van rolling through the gates. It’s big, boxy, and utterly out of place in front of the mansion. Behind the wheel, grinning like the devil himself, is Sylus.
“Of fucking course,” I mutter, unable to stop the laugh that escapes me while Ace lets out a low chuckle.
Sylus pulls the van to a stop, revs the engine obnoxiously one last time, and rolls down the window. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he calls out. “The getaway ride of your dreams has arrived!”
I look at Ace, who shakes his head with a rueful smile. “You ready to deal with him?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Not really.”
Sylus leans out of the driver’s side window, honking obnoxiously. “Come on, Sparkle! We’ve got shit to do!”
“Go.” I glance back at Ace, who’s watching with an amused smile, so I glide to the mansion steps, swapping my skates for shoes and grabbing my purse. Before I leave, I turn to him again and lean up for a kiss, a quick peck on the lips, the first time I’ve initiated one.
“See you later?” I ask, hoping he hears the promise in my voice.
“Later, Trouble.” His smile is like the sun breaking through clouds, and it’s hard to walk away, but I do.
I run up to Sylus, who waves at Ace with an exaggerated gesture. “We’ll be back soon!”
