She turns to me. “Big enough for what?”
I stare at her.
“Sh-show me the bedrooms,” she says.
I take her hand and lead her to the primary bedroom.
It’s a risky business. I should take her to the guest room so she doesn’t get the wrong message.
But my feet take me to my room. What can I do about it?
I set her down next to the bed, and she sits.
I kneel in front of her. She reaches down and runs a hand through my hair.
We share a charged silence amid a stare-down that lasts nearly half a minute.
My hand is on her leg, remembering the curve of her calf. It’s slightly thicker than it used to be. She’s slightly thicker everywhere. And I’m salivating.
“I wish we’d have talked sooner,” she says.
“Me too. I just didn’t want to upset you.”
Maddie shakes her head. “Ewan, I’m not a stick of dynamite. I can handle uncomfortable conversations without blowing up.”
“I know you’re not. I fucked up.”
She breaks my heart by closing her eyes and saying, “So did I. And I was so lonely, Ewan.”
A tear escapes from the inside corner of her eye and falls on her cheek.
I could go down the laundry list of reasons why I did what I did. Why I never texted, never called, and likewise never filed for divorce. But I don’t give a shit about any of that.
“Don’t cry, Maddie. I can’t take it.”
“What do you want from me, Ewan?”
My hand slides upward, over the back of her knee, and I take a handful of her soft thigh. The ridiculous green miniskirt binds her legs together, and I have to fight the urge to rip it to shreds. The simmering need to touch her is at a slow boil.
“Ewan, what are you doing?”
She gasps as I pull her leg to the side and kiss her soft skin inside her thigh. “Keeping you in bed so you rest, now.”
“You can’t kiss me. I might still be contagious.”
With as much as I’ve been hovering over her and sleeping in her bed, I’ve definitely caught something by now if she is.
“I won’t kiss you then.”
I drag my lips over the inside of her thigh again. Maddie sighs. I swear to god, I might die of relief, knowing we still have this fire between us.
Her skin is so soft and smells like citrus, like the same fruity soap she used to use back in the day.
Memories of our first time together come roaring back, but one by one, they are replaced with the present. We were both practically still kids back then, just turned 18.
It feels like we’ve lived a hundred lives since then.
Chapter
