Page 89 of Don’t Go Breaking My Heart

“Merritt, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’m scared that it could ruin everything. That if this doesn’t work out, our friendship might not survive. It’s either us together, or we’re over as we know it. I know we haven’t been super friendly these last ten years, but now that we’ve been friends again, I don’t want to lose that. It’s too important to me. You’re too important.”

I didn’t say anything. I knew she wasn’t finished yet. This was classic Merritt. She was going to spin out and then I would be there to bring her back down.

“It’s a risk,” she said, her eyes searching mine for something—reassurance, maybe. “If this thing blows up in our faces, you and I both know there isn’t any real hope at a friendship. We’ll never talk again. If we do, it will be a weird, awkward encounter.”

“Merritt,” I said, silencing her ramblings. “Look at me. Remember when we were sixteen? We had that crazy plan to run away together, to navigate the world just the two of us. We didn’t fear the unknown then because we believed in us. Yes, we’re older now, and there’s a lot more at stake, but we’re still the same two people at our core.”

If she only knew how far I would go for her. How much I was willing to risk. For Merritt, I’d pour out my soul, drench it in kerosene, and light it on fire if that was what it took. There was no way in hell I was going to let her go. Not again.

“Merritt Jacobs,” I said, my voice serious despite the grin on my face. I saw the look of panic in her eyes. “I’ve wanted to ask you this for a long time.”

“Yes?” Her voice was small.

“Will you go steady with me?” I asked, grinning like a schoolboy, knowing full well how ridiculous I sounded. The old-school terminology was on purpose—a throwback to the way kids used to ask each other out, back when things were simpler.

It worked. She laughed, her whole face lighting up as she leaned in to kiss me. “I’m going to have to write your name all over my notebook now and doodle hearts around it,” she teased, her nose brushing against mine. “And ask the DJ to play our song.”

“I might have my old letterman’s jacket somewhere,” I mused.

“And a promise ring?” she teased, arching an eyebrow at me, playing along with our little game.

“In my sock drawer,” I replied, deadpan. “It’s a mood ring, like the one you had when we were kids. Remember? It turned blue when you were calm and red when we fought.”

She laughed again. There was a softness in her eyes that stirred something deep inside me. “I remember,” she said. “You always teased me about that.”

The years had given us both scars, but underneath all of it, under the tough exterior and the protective barriers, we were still those two kids who had dreamed of running away together. We had been separated by time and of course distance and we took different paths but finding our way back to each other felt right.

I saw the best friend from my childhood still inside her. She was a woman now, one who possessed a fierce determination. And yet she was still the same girl I fell in love with all those years ago.

Mrs. Merritt Warner. The thought crossed my mind, making my heart skip a beat. I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying it out loud. Not yet. That was down the road maybe, but I was pretty sure we were on the same road, which was enough for now.

“What about the distance? You’re in Miami. I’m here. We can’t just pretend that doesn’t exist. I think we both know the challenges of a long-distance relationship.”

Her expression softened, and she reached up to trace a finger along my jaw. “I’m open to considering a move. For now, let’s just see how the next few weeks go. I’ll be back in Miami for good on Valentine’s Day. Until then, let’s take it one step at a time.”

“Valentine’s Day,” I repeated, chuckling. “Stupid Hallmark holiday.”

“I like it,” she said, her tone defensive but playful.

“Of course you do,” I shot back, smirking. “The holiday was created to make guys feel inadequate without roses and chocolates and expensive pieces of jewelry.”

“Well, I don’t need roses,” Merritt said, her fingers moving to trace invisible patterns on my chest. “And you know how much I hate flowers.”

“But you love chocolate.”

She grinned up at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, that’s a different matter altogether. Although I would trade the roses and jewelry for a big bowl of spaghetti with chocolate cake for dessert.”

I laughed. “You say that now. But I have a feeling you would be pissed if I didn’t go the traditional route. A bunch of ugly ass roses that will die in a couple of days.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, her lips twitching like she was trying not to laugh. “You’re such a Love Day Scrooge,” she teased. Her finger trailed down my chest, over my stomach, until it stopped at my navel.

I caught her wrist before she could go any lower, pulling her hand back up and wrapping it in mine. “Careful,” I warned, my voice low and rough as I leaned in to kiss her again. “That thing has a hair trigger when it comes to you.”

Her laughter melted against my lips. She pulled her hand away and headed south. Her fingers brushed over my cock and it stirred to life. Her mouth practically swallowed mine with her tongue pushing inside. I didn’t need to ask her if this was real. I could feel it in the way she kissed me, in the way her body pressed against mine like she didn’t want there to be any space between us.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe that this could work. Believe that we could be more than the mistakes we’d made in the past. Believe in us.