Page 56 of The Ache That Stayed

Yeah. I’d been fucked for a long time.

Roxanne straightened from the drawings and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, saying something to Callum that made him laugh. The sound carried across the yard. Watching her like this felt dangerously close to peace.

I leaned against her car and found myself watching her mouth when she laughed. Bad idea. I forced myself to look away.

The cold wind cut through the site, carrying dust and the smell of wet concrete. She seemed immune to it—at least while working. Always had been.

Construction noise faded a little as the afternoon stretched on. Workers started packing tools, engines shutting down one by one. That was when Callum wandered over.

“Hey mate,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Mind scooting over? Need to borrow Roxanne’s car today. Mine’s still in the shop.”

I glanced toward her automatically.

She stood near the scaffolding talking to one of the electricians, sleeves rolled up, completely absorbed in whatever problem they were trying to solve.

She smiled. Didn’t matter that it wasn’t for me, but my chest still tightened like an idiot.

I watched him drive away in her car. Which meant only one thing. Roxanne Talati was about to need a ride. And boy, it was my lucky fucking day. I should probably thank whichever god was in charge of stupid luck. Not that I was the religious type.

Roxanne stepped out into the driveway a few minutes later, purse slung across her body. She stopped when she saw me leaning against the bike.

“Wipe that grin off your face,” she said immediately.

I held up the spare helmet, grinning wider.

“What?” I said. “A man can’t enjoy a rare victory?”

She sighed like she already knew this conversation was coming. Her eyes narrowed.

“I’ve waited three years for this,” I added.

That did it.

“You’ve waited?” she shot back. “You’re the one who ran.”

“Strategic retreat,” I said calmly.

“You disappeared.”

“Temporary absence.”

She folded her arms. “You bolted.”

I shrugged. “And yet here I am.”

She muttered under her breath.

“Get on with it, Rossi.”

I stepped closer before she could grab the helmet from me and settled it over her head. Her hair brushed my fingers as I adjusted the strap beneath her chin.

My thumb brushed her jaw and for a second I thought about not moving it at all. Her breath caught. Just a fraction. But I felt it.

Her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag before she quickly pulled back.

“I think it’s secure.”

“Pity,” I muttered.