“Cody…” I whisper, but my voice cracks too.
He steps forward, his rough, calloused hand finding my cheek, and he presses his lips to mine. I don’t stop him.
The intensity hits deeper than the last time, like he’s pouring every unsaid word into the way his mouth moves against mine. It’s comfort. It’s connection. It’s him telling me without words that he feels this too.
When he pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and he brushes my hair behind my ear.
“Stay,” he murmurs.
I search his face; his eyes are still red. I see the ache, the hope, the wreckage.
“I’m in love with you, Karissa. I need you both to stay,” he adds.
My chin trembles as I nod. “I love you too,” I say on a breath. “I tried not to, but I failed.”
He smiles. “Me too.” He steps forward, kissing me again. This time hungrier, more desperate.
His fingers slip under the hem of my shirt. At first I don’t know if he meant to do it, but when his palms flatten against my bare skin and stay, my breath hitches against his mouth. His hands grip my hips as he backs me into the kitchen cabinets and deepens the kiss.
He lifts me up onto the counter with ease, like it’s instinct, and steps between my legs. My hands find his hair and our mouths continue to move against one another’s.
Before I know it, his hands roam under my shirt, over my back and then my ribs. The tips of his fingers brushing under the edge of my bra clasp. My body warms, adrenaline increasing rapidly. I want him.
I kiss him harder, fingers twisting in his hair. A sigh slips out of me, desperate and aching. Every nerve in my body is on fire.
My hand slides beneath the hem of his shirt, fingertips brushing warm skin as I find his belt. I fumble with it for only a second before his hand grabs onto mine quickly. He pulls back just enough for our eyes to meet, his chest heaving.
“We need to stop,” he murmurs, his voice raw.
I nod. He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. “I want to—so bad—but we can’t.”
I rest my hands on his shoulders and I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
He grabs me, lowering me to the ground. I watch him pace around the kitchen, hands on his hips like he’s at a war with his body.
“You okay?”
“I just need a second.”
I laugh and mutter. “You started it.”
“I know. I’ll pay for it tomorrow too,” he jokes.
I laugh and look around at all the boxes.
“So, I’ll just move back in with you?”
“Yeah. But I’ll crash at the big house for the season.”
My eyebrows pull in. “What? Why?”
He leans back against the counter, arms crossed. “Because we can’t be under the same roof. Not with the way things are between us now.” He gestures to me. “We’d be doing it right here in the kitchen had I not been thinking with the right head just then.”
I laugh louder than I mean, because he’s right.
“I love you. And I want you. But I also want to do it right this time. I’ve already lived with regret. I’m not doing it twice.” He shakes his head. “If we decide to get married someday, we won’t have to do this, but for now, living separately is just part of it,” he says, low and gentle. Like he knows it’s not what I was expecting.
I look back to him, overwhelmed with my feelings toward him. I sigh slowly. “I’d marry you tomorrow, Cody.”
