Page 68 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

“You don’t want me,” I protest.

“I absolutely do. Shit, sweetheart. Planned on doing this so slow. But you need to know that I’m here this time, and I’m not going to push you away. I am not going to do what I did before and send you out into the world, into the arms of other men thinking anyone but me would be better for you.” There is a pleading in his eyes, like he needs me to understand what happened here all these years ago, and I think I am starting to.

“You were scared?”

“Terrified.”

“I told you that . . . that I loved you.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, and I hate repeating them.

“And I didn’t think I deserved love from anyone, least of all the most incredible girl I had ever known. I thought I would ruin you. That it’s in my DNA.” Eli shakes his head.

“You are not him, Eli,” I say with ferocity.

“I know that now, sweetheart. And that is why I am begging you for a second chance. One that I probably don’t deserve. But, I can’t stand the thought of you with anyone else now. I want to go back and kick the ass of any guy that has ever touched you, tasted you, loved you since the day I ruined us.”

My chest heaves at his admission. Not because I’m afraid of his words or the implied violence, but because they make me feel happy and cared for. And I also know what I’m about to say is going to shock him . . .

“There is nobody else, has never been anybody else,” I whisper, looking down at the sand.

“Excuse me?” Eli tips my chin up so he can see my eyes.

“You heard me, Hulk.”

“That can’t be right.” The look of shock on his face is definitely a snapshot memory being burned into my mind right now.

Snorting, I say, “Yeah, it is. I think that I would know.”

“But all our friends and so many people ask you for relationship advice?” he argues.

“Because I’m smart, a good listener, and empathetic. It has nothing to do with how many people I have slept with.”

I roll my eyes.

He lets out a growl.

“No need to act like a caveman, it’s only been you.” I pat his muscled chest.

“Why?” Eli asks, with genuine confusion.

“It’s a complicated answer, one I’m not sure I’m ready to give you all the answers to tonight. It is our first date after all.” I bite my lip.

“Fair enough,” he concedes.

“I will say, though, it makes it hard for me. The idea of taking things further, having sex with you again. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” I admit.

Eli tugs me between his legs, leaning back, and we watch as the sun sinks lower, the sky a brighter pink sherbet mix that I wish my damndest I could capture on a mug just by dipping it straight into the colors.

“We can take this as slow as you want to, Kendra, as long as we are taking steps together. I want this. I want us. Do you?” Eli asks the million-dollar question.

“Yes, I want this too,” I admit.

Eli grins, then kisses the hell out of me on the beach where he once broke my heart . . . and here he is fusing it back together with his golden light while I am placing it right back into his hands, praying I am not being foolish.

55

Kendra

“It doesn’t look the same, it doesn’t feel the same, it doesn’t look the same, it doesn’t feel the same,” I whisper to myself, standing outside the back door of my kitchen.