Page 50 of Endless Hope


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That hurt. It was like he’d taken a pin and poked my skin repeatedly. “I don’t do that with just anyone. It means something to me. I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl.”

Talon dropped his arms. “That’s not what I meant. It wasn’t meaningless, but I don’t think we need to put pressure on it either. I had a good time.”

I had a good time? That wasn’t what I wanted to hear the morning after the most amazing sex of my life. I thought it was more intense because of our shared history, our love for each other. But for him, it was just good?

He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m fucking this up.”

I waited, letting him regroup.

“I don’t want you to worry about what it meant. Can we enjoy living in the moment? Maybe without the weight of the past?”

I shook my head and laughed lightly. “Is it possible to shed our history?”

“I think we can. I enjoyed last night, and I want more.”

I sighed. “I want more, too.”

He held his hands up. “But I don’t want to put pressure on us or you. Can we take things one day at a time?”

“I can do that.” Relief flooded my body. I wasn’t eager to define what we were, either. There was something to be said about going with the flow and doing what felt good. And last night felt amazing.

Talon grinned, and I was momentarily stunned by the intensity. “I made breakfast.”

“That’s what pulled me out of bed,” I teased as he transferred the eggs and bacon from the pan to a plate.

He set it in front of me and moved to the carafe to pour coffee. He dropped a splash of milk into the mug, mixed it, and set it in front of me.

“I wanted to feed you. Since we ate dinner last night in bed—”

“Nothing wrong with that.” I took a bite of the eggs sprinkled with bacon bits.

“I wanted to do something nice for you.”

“We had a fancy date. Remember? The bachelorette auction.” It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had only been a little more than a week.

“That was different. You didn’t get a choice.”

My cheeks heated slightly. Talon had always been sweet, even as an inexperienced teenager. I suspected his family had no idea he had a soft spot under his hard shell.

Talon braced his hands on the counter, his plate of eggs in front of him. “Holly, would you go out with me?”

I smiled, the unease from last night dissipating. “I’d love to.”

His shoulders dropped as if he was worried I’d say no. “Good.”

Touched, I asked, “Did you have an evening in mind?”

He lifted his plate and ate a mouthful of eggs, chewed, and swallowed. “Mmm. Not sure yet. Let me figure out what we’re going to do first.”

“Can I know what we’re going to do?” I asked as I piled the eggs on top of a piece of wheat toast.

Talon winked. “I think it’s best if I surprise you. I wouldn’t want you to back out.”

“I’d never do that.” I was all in with whatever this was. We owed it to ourselves to see it through. I’d cut us off prematurely when we were eighteen. But this time, there was nothing holding us back. We were both working our dream jobs. We were relatively free. We didn’t have any outside pressures or concerns.

There was his family and mine, but at the end of the day, it only mattered what we thought.

“You ready to come to family dinner this weekend?” Talon asked.

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