I stare at her, stunned. “What?”
“The scar.” She’s trying to sound indifferent, but I can hear the vulnerability underneath. “You think it’s ugly.”
“No,” I rasp, shaking my head. “Nova,no.” I take her face in my hands, needing her to hear this—feelthis. “You’re… God, you’re so fucking beautiful it hurts sometimes.”
Her eyes soften, and the wall I watched going up falls again.
“You saved me.” I let my finger glide over the scar. “And I’ll be forever grateful for that.” When she leans back, my gaze catches on a tattoo on her hipbone. A red Ace of Hearts inked into her skin. I trace my thumb over it, making her shudder. “When did you get this?”
Her cheeks tint pink, matching the dress now lying forgotten on the floor. “When I came to Vegas. It was one of the first things I did with my own money. I wanted you close.”
Something inside me snaps at her words. The thought of her carrying that part of me with her, even when she thought I was gone, undoes me. My hand reaches up, cupping the back of her head as I pull her down for a kiss—harder, deeper this time. She gasps, and I take the opportunity to slide my tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweetness. She smells like heaven, but she tastes even better, like candy, everything I’ve ever craved.
When we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard, she whispers, “I’m sorry you didn’t get all my firsts, Ace. I’m sorry I broke that promise.”
I chuckle softly. “I’m glad you didn’t wait for me.”
She pulls back, her green eyes searching mine. “But you’re my firstI love you.”
My brows furrow as I take her in. We’d never saidI love youwhen we were teens. I hated myself for not saying it back then, for being too scared, too stupid. But I’d loved her.
God, I’d loved her since the moment her sassy mouth told me her name.
“I love you, Ace. I’ve loved you since I knew what love is. And I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I hated myself for not telling you then, butI love you.”
“I love you,” I shoot back. “I did then, and I never stopped. I never will.”
My lips brush hers again, this time with just a whisper of a kiss. I barely feel it before I need more—before the spacebetween us becomes unbearable. The taste of her, the feel of her, it’s like coming home to a place I thought was lost forever.
She’s everything.
My past.
My present.
My-fucking-future.
I feel it in my chest in the way my heart beats too hard, and my breath stutters like my body doesn’t know how to keep up with this. With her.
“You’re daring.” My thumb traces the curve of her cheekbone. “You’re wild, and you’re trouble.” My thumb brushes her lower lip, and a shiver rolls through me as she exhales shakily. “Perfect for me.”
She seems to recognize what I once told her because her eyes shine, tears brimming but not falling. Fuck, I want to kiss them away. I want to press my lips to every inch of her, to make up for every lost second, every stolen year.
She slowly lifts her hand so damn carefully, like she’s afraid I might bolt. And maybe I will. Maybe I’m afraid too. Because wanting her was never the problem. But touching her again? Letting her touch me?
I force myself to stay still. To let it happen. To let her happen.
Her fingertips hover near my hand on her cheek, and I nod once in a tight motion. She places her hand over mine, and I exhale shakily.
It’s the smallest thing, but it’s enough to splinter something inside me.
“You’re perfect for me, too,” she whispers on a breath.
I was.
I will be.
Her smile turns sly. “But you’re not very good at keeping track of your things, are you?” she teases, and it takes my brain asecond to catch up when she holds up the Rolex. The watch I was wearing is now on her wrist.
