“And sometimes she craved Kit Kats. She hated red meat and peppers. Her first doctor was such a jerk that she switched OBGYNs after her first trimester. She loved her stretch marks because they were a reminder of that beautiful little girl she was growing inside of her. She told me daily.” I word vomit all of this with no idea where it’s coming from.
My surprised eyes connect with Nate’s, his expression soft. “Cancer sucks. We all cope in different ways. You were there for her, Maddie. I promise.”
I drop my head onto his shoulder as he holds me close. “Thank you,” I mumble into him. And as if he’s opened a magical chest, my mind is suddenly filled with memories I’ve suppressed.
One in particular makes me smile. It’s a picture of her in the dead of summer. I remember her telling me it was one hundred degrees out with one hundred percent humidity, and she didn’t care what she looked like.
She was wearing a long, flowy skirt and matched it with an old crop top, or what we used to call a belly shirt, that fit like a bra.
The woman’s face behind her was scrunched up in disgust, but Camila’s smile was large and completely unfazed. She was such a beautiful, carefree soul.
I miss her dearly.
Nate rubs my back for a few minutes. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?”
I lean back and whisper, “I hate that there was someone else.” He stills under me, the muscles in his arm go rigid. “It’s always been you, though, Nate. I didn’t want to admit it, but I promise it’s true. I still sleep with your pillow, for God’s sake.”
He doesn’t say a word, so I lift my head to find his smug, cocky grin spread across his face. I roll my eyes.
“My pillow?” His brows rise.
“Oh, get that smile off your face, Davenport.” I shove at his chest, but he catches my wrist mid-push and drags me straight back into him.
“For the record,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, “I can’t fucking stand that there was someone else. I want to kill him with my bare hands. I’ve never felt so violent in my life.”
“It meant nothing,” I breathe out, my voice trembling against his collarbone. “My heart and my body have only ever belonged to you.”
“Damn right,” he says with conviction, but I can see it in his eyes. It’s not enough.
Nervous from his expression, my heart starts to beat quickly. “What do you need to know before we move on, Nate?”
His big blue eyes glaze over, and his chest heaves from his deep breaths. “Were you in love with him?”
I shake my head furiously. “God, no. I thought maybe I loved him as a person, but I didn’t, and I definitely was never in love with him.”
His jaw tenses. “Yet, you said yes to him.”
“It was a mistake. A terrible mistake I want to erase from my memory.” My chest tightens with regret. “If I hadn’t lived it, I wouldn’t understand it either. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you consumed me, Nate. I was so angry. I tried so hard to move on and got too caught up with the idea. Then our families were involved, and I said yes, a massive regret I will always live with. You have to believe me, I never loved him. Ever.”
I don’t know what I was thinking, or who that version of myself was.
I hate her.
“You never slept with him?” I know he’s not asking because he doesn’t believe me, he needs me to validate my feelings for him. I get it.
“No. I couldn’t.” I shiver in disgust. That should have been a major red flag, but I thought I’d grow out of it. “Coming from a strict religious family, waiting was never questioned.”
“I hate him.”
I cup his cheeks and bring us nose to nose. “It. Has. Only. Ever. Been. You. Mind, body, soul. You own me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Nate’s mouth crashes into mine when there’s nothing left to say. It’s hard, hungry, and unapologetic. His tongue parts mylips, claiming me, reminding me how he’s always known exactly how to undo me.
His hand finds my jaw, holding me still while he kisses me like he’s starving and can’t get enough. Goose bumps trail along my spine as our tongues collide. I’ve always loved kissing Nate, but adult Nate is hotter and more passionate than ever.
When he pulls back, his lips trail down my throat, hot and demanding, marking a path only he’s ever known. My pulse stutters, every nerve alive under his touch.
“Nate. We’re going to be okay.” I sigh.
