His fingers grazed my cheek and I shivered—not from the cold. “Then why are you trembling?”
“It’s cold.”
“Liar.”
“Jack—”
“Tell me you don’t feel this.” His hand cupped my jaw, tilting my face up toward his. “Tell me you don’t lie awake at night thinking about what we had. Tell me you don’t wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t walked away.”
I couldn’t speak. My heart felt like it was escaping my chest.
“Tell me,” he whispered, “and I’ll stop. I’ll take you home and I’ll never bring it up again. Just say the words.”
I was shaking. Trembling in his hands like a leaf in a storm.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he murmured.
I didn’t say stop.
I didn’t say anything at all.
He kissed me.
Soft at first. Tentative. The gentlest brush of his lips against mine, made my muscle memory take over.
I rose onto my toes, closing the distance he’d left between us, and the kiss caught fire.
His arms wrapped around me, one hand splaying across my lower back, the other sliding into my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss.
I melted into him—melted into the heat and the hunger and the aching familiarity of his mouth on mine. He tasted like champagne and something that was just him, and I couldn’t get enough.
His tongue traced the seam of my lips and I opened for him, and the sound he made—low and rough and reverent—vibrated through my entire body.
I arched into him, needing more, needing everything, and he groaned against my mouth and pulled me closer, closer, until there was no space left between us.
“Pauline.” He breathed my name like a prayer, like a curse, like something holy. “God, Pauline.”
His mouth left mine and trailed down my jaw, my neck, finding the sensitive spot just below my ear. His teeth grazed my skin and I gasped, my head falling back, my fingers clutching his shoulders like he was the only solid thing in a world that had gone spinning.
“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured against my throat. “Every day. Every night. I’ve dreamed about this.”
“Jack—”
His lips traced the line of my collarbone, hot and hungry, and the word I meant to say next dissolved into nothing.
His mouth found mine again, deeper this time, more desperate. His hands tightened on my waist. His breath came ragged against my lips. And I pulled him closer still, this want I’d spent seven years burying clawing its way back to the surface, refusing to be ignored.
A car passed. Headlights swept across us.
And just like that, reality came crashing back.
Like I’d been plunged in cold water.
I pushed him away. Hard.
Because wanting him was easy.
Because losing him again would destroy me.
