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The afterglow from making love all night, lost in each other, our slick bodies intertwined. I remember the ecstasy of our heated flesh merging together. Her raspy cries of bliss, the way she came undone under my hands. The memories are intense. The heat, the connection.
Just the mere idea of her silken skin against mine, the intoxicating intimacy we shared, sends my heart racing. I redouble my efforts, desperate to regain what we had. To run my hands over every inch of her again, worship her until she calls out my name. To get back what we lost, what was stolen from us.
And then, my fingers finally move. When I look up and our eyes meet I see Seraphina’s bright and intense. The glimpse of that love she had for me peeking through the big wall she’s placed between us.
“Yes,” Seraphina cheers. “You’re doing it, B.”
Before either of us can fully process the moment, she pulls me into her embrace. Her breathing tickles my neck, and her scent—wildflowers and fresh rain—fills my senses. “Whatever’s driving you like this . . . don’t let it go,” Sephie whispers.
Her face is so close, our noses nearly touching. I can see every freckle, every hint of the life she’s lived in her eyes. It’s a powerful moment, and the urge to close the gap, to feel her lips on mine, is overwhelming. There’s a fire inside of me, a longing to show her just how much she means to me. Yet, beneath that burning desire, I can still feel the undercurrent of pain—the brokenness from our past wounds.
For a second longer, we stay close, the tension between us thick and tangible. But then Seraphina’s eyes flicker, widening ever so slightly as she seems to remember herself. The air shifts as a cloud of realization washes over her face, her features hardening just a bit. It’s a subtle change, but enough for me to understand.
With a practiced grace, she untangles herself from me, stepping back. The absence of her warmth is abrupt, leaving me colder than I care to admit. Her posture straightens, the soft, vulnerable woman from moments ago replaced by a steely professional.
“Sorry, that was out of line,” she says, her voice devoid of the warmth it held just seconds ago. “It’ll never happen again.”
I watch as she turns on her heel, leaving me there, grappling with the whiplash of emotions. There’s a battle raging inside her, I can tell. Part of her wants to give in, but the resentment, the history between us, won’t let her. And just like that, she’s gone, leaving me to ponder the blurred lines between hate and desire.
As I see her leave, my mind and my body go back in time to those days when I belonged to her, and she would let me love her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brahms
(Then)
The evening was cold. As I stepped inside the house, the place was silent and not many lights were on. When I walked into the library, I was greeted by the comforting warmth of a crackling fireplace. The gentle hum of Cascade Midnight’s “Love You Forever” wafted through the air, one of Sephie’s favorite songs.
There she was, backlit by the soft, amber glow, looking like something out of a dream. There’s a glass of wine on the side table next to a book she must have been reading. My heart tightened at the sight of her.
“Hey, you,” she greeted warmly, her voice soft and melodic. It was a welcome home.
“Hey, yourself.” I grinned, wondering if tonight could finally be the night we take the next step in our relationship. I’ve been patient, knowing she has a lot going on—school, the physical therapy sessions, and her parents traveling around the world in search of treatment options for her dad.
But I was practically recovered from the accident. In fact, I just came from a meeting with the band and our agent, where we decided to carry on Zane’s legacy, even though we all still missed him desperately.
Almost everything I’ve written lately has been inspired by Sephie, by my love for her. Probably not the best tribute to my late best friend, but I know Zane would’ve approved of us being together. He knew how I felt about her long before I ever made a move, and that I would wait until she was ready.
But how long was I willing to wait? What if one of us was gone before we ever got the chance? I didn’t want to lose any more time with her. Tonight had to be the night I finally told her how I truly felt.
Casually, I walked over and sat down next to her, giving her a peck on the lips. “So, how was your day, beautiful?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She smiled up at me, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “It was good. The PT session went well . . .”
Sephie talked about her day and asked me about mine. She agreed that it’s time for me to go back into my world.
“You must miss it,” she said.
“Sorta, though I need to figure out how we’ll balance us and them.” I traced my thumb gently over her bottom lip, leaning in for another soft kiss.
“Them?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“The band, tours . . . that world. It’s all-consuming, and although I enjoy it, I want you more,” I admitted, my heart and mind conflicted. Music was my passion, but so was she.
“The band comes first,” she insisted, cupping my cheek. I could see the sincerity in her eyes—she was willing to sacrifice for my dream.
This woman is so fucking unselfish that she’s ready to give us up so I can continue the other life. Though part of me still wants that success, I don’t have the same fiery passion I did before, not since losing Zane. I don’t know if I can face his ghost each time I step on stage or into the studio.
