Page 56 of Hearts on the Line

My eyes snap up to his, demanding a better answer.

“I got it a few years back. Missed the view.” He swallows, reaching up to hold my hand in his. “Missed you.”

“Me?”

I wish I could do anything other than parrot back what he says, but my brain and mouth aren’t working together.

Everything about Ethan now, all his sharpness and heated stares, all of his kindness, isn’t a mistake. And that terrifies me.

Ethan cups my face in his hands, his eyes burning me, when he says in a low whisper, “Always.”

I press my face against his palm, sighing when he brushes his thumb over my cheekbone in a soft, sweeping touch. It’s different from before. This is a slow fall, and I don’t know what’s there to catch me. But for a minute, I believe he will.

His thumb drags over my lips before it slips inside my mouth. I glance up at him, the anticipation in my body buzzing through me. I gently nip my teeth over the pad of his thumb, my breath quickening.

“God, you’re perfect, Sloane.”

I suck on his thumb, my body aching for more.

“I can’t be some rebound fuck though.” He pulls his thumb away, tips my chin up with his fist, then slowly runs his hand down my throat and settles at the base there. “You’ll fucking break me.”

I whimper, desperate to feel him against me. Desperate for his lips, his hands, his body. I want more than to just be his friend.

We were never friends.

Ethan and I have been inevitable from the start.

And it took me years to find my way back to him, but now that I have, I don’t think I can go back to pretending he was my past. Ethan Murphy shaped my present, and that little whisper neatly screaming at me in the back of my mind tells me he could be my future.

I shut my eyes and collapse back against his mattress, willing myself to pay attention to everything. Because the truth is that I’ve never stopped loving Ethan Murphy all these years; I just lost my way for a bit.

And now that I’m back?

“You’ll never be a rebound, Ethan.” My voice is a shaky whisper.

“No?” He crawls over me, covering my body with his.

Finally, I pop my eyes open, losing myself in the depths of his hazel eyes. “You must hate me” is all I say, raking my fingertips across his shoulders.

He bends down, careful not to rest his weight on me, even as I wiggle my hips and press against him, so desperate. I hate that he has so much control right now and I’m barely keeping it together. The tension between us is suffocating. I dig my heels into the bed and tighten my hold on his shoulders, digging my fingernails into his shoulder blades, even when he bites back a groan.

“I hate that you left.” He bends down and kisses my forehead. “Hate that you never replied to my texts.” He kisses my cheeks, so soft, tender. It’s overwhelming when I can nearly feel his restraint radiating off his body against mine. “Hate that you’re still wearing his ring when you’re in my bed, but⁠—”

I grip the ring on my finger and twist it off, chucking it across his room. I hear it hit the wall and land with a thud on the carpet.

His chuckle is low and—oh, god—I can’t believe this is going to happen. “Be careful with me, Ethan.”

When his mouth meets mine, his lips move in a quiet devotion. I’m terrified, trying to quiet the fears spinning inside my mind.

I can’t run away now. This all feels so sudden and not soon enough, the years in between a messy complication.

Ethan grips my side and flips us over so I’m straddling him. I rock my hips against his, his cock hard against my core. I reach down and strip off my T-shirt, but still, there are too many clothes between us.

“Careful or gentle?” He reaches around and undoes my bra, tossing it over to the floor.

Suddenly, the room goes whisper-quiet before I bend forward, clasp his face in my hands, and kiss him, urging him on.

“Never gentle.”