“Everything I’ve worked for,” she whispered.
“I know.” I held her gaze. “And if it’s making you happy—if it’s worth what you’ve given up for it, then okay. But if it’s not...”
She looked almost fragile, caught between worlds. I could see the conflict playing across her face—the rational, ambitious attorney and the woman who’d danced with me in an empty bar, who’d looked at peace for the first time since she’d come back to town.
I should have backed off. Should have given her the space to process everything I’d just dumped on her. But as she wrestled with the impossible question I’d asked, I was seized by the fear that this might be our last moment of honesty. That once she walked out, the walls would go back up, and we’d never find our way back to this raw vulnerability.
“Gill.” I murmured her name like a prayer, my hands lifting to frame her face, fingertips threading through the soft strands of hair at her temples.
Her breath caught in that suspended moment before I kissed her, the sound almost lost in the quiet space between us. I poured everything I couldn’t say into the press of my lips against hers—years of missing her, of wondering what if, of carrying the ghost of what we’d shared through every day since she’d left. She froze for half a heartbeat, her body going rigid with surprise, before melting against me like snow in spring sunshine. Her fingers clutched at my shirt, bunching the fabric in her fists as if anchoring herself to something solid in a world that had tilted off its axis.
This wasn’t the heated, desperate kiss we’d shared at the bar earlier, fueled by alcohol and old attraction. This was something different—deeper, more profound, an echo of everything we’d once been to each other and everything we could be again if we were brave enough to reach for it. Her lips parted on a soft sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her chest, and the salt of her tears mingled with the sweetness that was uniquely, unmistakably her. The combination was heartbreaking and perfect all at once.
When I pulled back, forcing myself to break the connection despite every instinct screaming at me to hold on, her eyes remained closed, dark lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her lips stayed parted, still soft and inviting, still carrying the ghost of our kiss. Her hands continued to hold tight to my shirt as if she needed the support to remain standing, as if letting go would send her tumbling back into the uncertainty that had brought her to this crossroads.
I rested my forehead against hers. “Just something to remember while you’re thinking.”
Her eyes opened, revealing depths of emotion I couldn’t begin to untangle. “As if I ever forgot.”
CHAPTER 15
My hands still clutched his shirt, the fabric warm beneath my fingers. I’d left Doc’s house twenty minutes ago, fully intending to drive to Lucy’s. To sit on her couch with a glass of wine and untangle the mess inside my head. To talk through the promotion, the impossible choice, the way Diego still made my heart race after all these years.
Instead, my car had practically driven itself here, to his doorstep. And now he’d laid everything bare—his love, his questions that cut straight to the bone, his kiss that reminded me of everything I’d walked away from.
“As if I ever forgot,” I heard myself say, the words escaping before I could stop them.
His forehead still rested against mine, his breath warm against my lips. My whole body thrummed with awareness of him—the solid strength of his chest beneath my hands, the gentle way his thumbs traced circles on my cheeks, the heat radiating from his skin.
I should pull away. Should create distance to think clearly about his questions, about what I wanted, about the promotion waiting for me in Chicago. But standing here in his small apartment, surrounded by evidence of the life he’d built—photoswith his crew, well-worn books, a guitar propped in the corner—I couldn’t make myself move.
He was right about one thing. I did light up here. The past week had shown me that in painful clarity. Even with the stress of Doc’s health and my job breathing down my neck, I’d been more alive than I had in months.
Maybe years.
“Diego.” His name came out rougher than I intended.
He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his hands still framing my face. The intensity in his gaze nearly undid me—love and longing and patience all tangled together.
I thought about the managing partner’s call this morning. The promotion dangling like a golden carrot. Everything I’d worked toward for four years, sacrificed for, lost sleep over. The track to the corner office, the prestige, the six-figure bonus. My parents’ approval finally, definitively secured.
And none of it made my heart race like this man’s touch.
“I don’t know how to answer your questions,” I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know how to untangle what I want from what I’m supposed to want. From what everyone expects.”
His thumb brushed away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “I know.”
“But I do know one thing.” I loosened my grip on his shirt only to slide my hands up his chest. His heartbeat thundered beneath my palm. “No matter what happens next week, no matter what I decide about Chicago or the promotion or any of it—I know I want you. Right now. In this moment.”
Something shifted in his expression, heat flaring behind the tenderness.
“Gill—”
I silenced him the only way I knew how, rising up on my toes to press my mouth to his. This kiss was pure want, years oflonging and heartache condensed into the slow, deliberate slide of lips and tongues. Every sensation was magnified, electric—the soft warmth of his mouth, the way his breath hitched when I nipped at his lower lip.
He groaned against my mouth, a sound that vibrated through my chest and settled low in my belly. His hands slid into my hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he tilted my head to deepen the kiss. I pressed closer, eliminating any space between us, wrapping my arms around his neck and molding myself to his solid frame. The hard planes of his chest pressed against my breasts, his thighs bracketing mine as I leaned into him completely.
The solid weight of him against me felt like coming home and setting myself on fire all at once. Like finding shelter in a lightning storm.
