Mel lets out a soft laugh. “You first.”
I clear my throat. “I was just going to say, I’m sorry I stormed out the other night. I should have stayed. Should have talked it through.”
Melanie sucks in a shuddering breath. “I’m the one who should be sorry, Josh, not you. I’m so sorry I have kept this from you all these years.”
Her voice cracks. Mine almost does too.
“We were young,” I say, choosing the same words Melanie used the other night.
“I was also terrified and heartbroken and so…lost. A little part of me died that day. I lost Cara and our baby and then…you.”
Something inside me breaks.
“You never should have lost me,” I say, my voice low.
Melanie sniffles and I realize silent tears are falling from her eyes. I unbuckle my seatbelt and turn to face her.
She turns toward me, wiping her eyes. “I had just gotten used to the idea of having a baby. I know that sounds crazy, but I thought we’d make it work. I’d be pregnant all senior year and then take care of the baby while you finished high school. And then we could get married.”
Melanie looks at me through her long, wet eyelashes.
“I thought before we told Liam and Cara about us, I’d tell you. I’d made up this whole vision in my mind that you’d be so happy. But really? You’d probably have been terrified.” Melanie shakes her head. “Then, in the hospital, when I saw the bleeding, my whole world just came crashing down. But I still thought I’d tell you when things were better. And then one day, you were just gone. My dad found your letter in the mailbox.”
My throat tightens, the weight of regret hitting like a punch. “I’m so sorry,” I say, reaching for her hand. “I would’ve been there, Mel. I would’ve done anything. You know that, don’t you?”
Melanie nods but she can’t stop the flow of tears now. I feel tears of my own pricking the back of my eyes so I reach for her hand like she might slip away again. She breaks all the way then and I do too. I pull her into me, and we come undone. We cry for what we lost. For the kids we were. For the life that never had the chance to happen.
When Melanie’s sobs quiet, she pulls back just enough to look at me.
Her palm finds my cheek, and she brushes the wetness away. “I never thought I’d have another shot with you. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I meant that much to you back then.”
I meet her eyes, no hesitation. “You meanteverythingto me, Melanie. You still do.”
And then my mouth is on hers and it’s like coming up for air after being underwater too long. It’s her. It’s always been her.
41
MELANIE
Josh kisses me deeply and it’s like a fuse igniting—heat surges through me, electric and instant. His mouth moves with urgency, all tongue and teeth, a mess of grief and longing and something that feels like home. We don’t kiss like people reuniting. We kiss like two people mourning all the things we never got to say.
His mouth moves down my neck, stubble scraping as he plants a trail of kisses down to the base of my neck. I let out a hiss and reach for him, tugging for his shirt, fumbling with my seatbelt until I can slide into his lap. I feel him hard beneath me and the warmth between us quickly turns molten. Josh finds my mouth again, taking my lower lip in his teeth.
I lace my fingers through his hair, and a groan escapes him. I answer it with a soft moan of my own, rolling my hips over his slow and deliberate.
His hands find my hips, and our breaths come quick and shallow. Wetness pools between my thighs and suddenly the desire turns to more—a burning need. Every nerve in my body is awake. Needing this connection, this reminder that I’m not alone in my pain.
“Upstairs,” I whisper into his mouth. “I need you.”
Josh doesn’t reply. He never breaks contact as he feels for the door handle and flings the driver’s side door open. He slides out of the truck, gripping my ass and hoisting me up. He kicks the door shut but before anything else, leans me against the truck, his grip possessive and steady.
His hips push forward in a slow, hard thrust. I cry out at the feel of him, already spiraling.
“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “I can’t stop long enough to go upstairs.”
“Josh.” His name falls from my lips. “Please. You’re going to make me come right here.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, but there’s hunger in it. “I might like that.”
