Page 54 of What Should Have Been Ours

“You’ll always be my friend first, Gabrielle. It’s our foundation.” His thumb brushes over my knuckles. “But I need you to give me the chance to remind you that we stopped being just friends a very, very long time ago, and there’s no real going back to ever just being friends. There’s too much history here for me not to want you as more.”

The words settle between us, every ounce of desire I have for him threatening to undo me.

Without overthinking it, I lean over and kiss him.

It’s slow at first. Careful. But the second he responds, the second his fingers thread through my hair, and he pulls me in closer, it turns into something more.

Something desperate.

Something inevitable.

Something I’ve missed.

He kisses me back like he’s trying to make up for the twelve years of lost time. His lips move against mine, hungry and sure, like he’s spent every moment of those twelve years waiting for this—waiting for me to come back to him.

And maybe he has. Maybe I have, too.

Because the second his hand slides to my thigh, gripping me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, my body reacts like it’s never forgotten him. Like it was always his.

I melt into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater, needing something to hold onto. There’s nothing steady about any of this. No slowing down these feelings.

His hand moves, trailing up my spine, fingers brushing the nape of my neck, sending a shiver through me. I arch closer, letting him take more, letting him have all of me.

His tongue sweeps against mine, coaxing a quiet whimper from my throat, and that sound makes him groan, low and deep, like he’s the one unraveling.

The heat between us is dangerous. It’s all-consuming. It’s everything I’ve spent years trying to chase, it’s everything I tried to fool myself into thinking I could find with someone else, and now that I have it back, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop wanting it.

His teeth graze my bottom lip before he soothes the sting with another kiss, softer this time, with the same urgency. His hand tightens on my thigh, like he’s trying to hold back, but I don’t want him to.

I slide my hands up, threading my fingers into his hair, tugging just enough to make him exhale sharply against my lips. Then he’s tilting my chin up, kissing silent promises along my neck, using his kisses to tell me how he really feels.

I should stop. I should pull back before I lose all sense of reason.

But then he whispers my name against my skin, and I’m done for.

Because Cam Hayes has always been my weakness.

By the time we finally pull back, my breathing is unsteady, and Cam’s eyes are dark and heavy.

“Gabrielle,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re gonna kill me.”

I let out a breathless laugh, but my heart is racing.

“Come here,” he says, tugging me toward him.

I climb over, settling on top of him in the driver’s seat as he pushes it back, wrapping his arms around me. “Feels very familiar,” I whisper.

He kisses my shoulder. “Feels right.”

And just like that, we fall into something that feels like gravity—quiet, certain, and impossible to fight.

Something that’s been long overdue in the universe and begging to happen again.

Settling into his warmth, we try to watch the rest of the movie, but my brain won’t slow down from the thoughts of how beautiful the world works to bring two souls back together where they were always supposed to be.

* * *

When the movie ends, I glance up at Cam.