Her lips. Her skin. Her voice.
Her sweet moans and my name spilling from her mouth.
My fingers in her hair.
Her nipples in my mouth.
The taste of her on my tongue.
Last night was perfect, raw and real.
I haven’t felt that good, that connected to myself and another person, in a very long time, if fucking ever. No woman has ever felt as good in my arms as Riley.
She fell asleep with her head slotted under my chin, her warmth comforting me as I drifted off. For the first time since Owen’s death, I didn’t want morning to come. I wanted to revel in the moment.
Now, she’s on her right side, blanket tucked between her thighs, hair in a braid.
She looks so damn peaceful. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to join her.
All I want is to step into her room, climb into her bed, and hold her until morning comes.
To soak in her warmth so I can feel alive again.
But that would be unfair to her. It would break the promise I made.
Last night was a fucking dream come true, but it can’t happen again.
So, I slowly pull her door closed and head to my room, hoping the quiet will seep into me and filter out the noise.
21
the last last time
HAYDEN
I wake up at noon,my head pounding, and drag myself to the shower. The cold water brings a little relief, and when I finally make it to the kitchen, I feel a bit more like me.
I have a quick breakfast, chug a cup of coffee, and pop some aspirin.
Riley isn’t home, and her absence makes my loneliness more prickly, more tangible. She’s only been here a week, and already, I’ve gotten attached to having breakfast with her. What will I do once she leaves? The thought of her being gone makes my gut churn.
I’m climbing into the car, heading to the grocery store, when Ines calls.
“Hey. What’s up?”
The sound of her sniffling is like a slap upside my head.
I tense, my grip on the phone tightening. “Ines? What’s wrong?”
“Is it true?”
Frowning, I turn the key in the ignition. “What are you talking about?”
“Is it true you’re going to release a new album? Songs using…Ow-Owen’s voice?” She sniffles again. “I saw the article.”
My stomach plummets. The project wasn’t supposed to be public knowledge.
I rub a hand down my face. “We met with the label yesterday. We discussed it, but that’s all for now,” I tell her. “I figured I’d mention it the next time I visited. I’m so sorry you found out like that. It was never my intention.”
