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I laughed.

No matter what I was going through in my life, these two always made my day better.

I hoped I always had them in my life.

***

After Julie left, I headed over to my mother’s house. I checked in with her almost daily. Whereas my father usually kept me at arm’s length, my mother was the exact opposite - needy.

“Mum, you home?” I yelled out as I unlocked the front door and entered her house. Stupid question really, because aside from going to work, my mother hardly left her home.

“In the kitchen,” came her reply.

I kicked off my shoes just inside the front door because Mum had a thing against shoes in the house. As I did this, I noticed the black boots sitting near the door and wondered who they belonged to.

And then I heard a male voice.

Kick.

What the hell? He hardly ever visited my mother.

I hurried to the kitchen and as I rounded the corner, I came face to face with him. I had to grab onto the counter to steady myself so I didn’t run into him. My gaze hit his neck and took in the tattoos there before it travelled up to his face, taking in his beard and brown hair that always had that just-fucked look.

His hands grabbed my arms to also help steady me, and my tummy did somersaults at the contact.

It’s been too long since he’s held me.

“Evie,” he murmured, his deep voice awakening the desire I’d always felt for him. The goddamn desire I’d fought hard to rid myself of. But after seeing him at Jeremy’s funeral, I knew the desire was as strong as ever.

Fuck.

I tried to move out of his embrace but he wouldn’t let me go. I glared at him. “Let me go, Kick.”

He held me for another couple of moments before doing as I’d asked. I placed my hands on his chest to try to force him to step aside so I could enter the kitchen, but he didn’t move, and all I succeeded in doing was shooting more desire throughout my body at the feel of his body again.

He glanced down at my hands on his chest and then looked at me from under hooded eyes.

Those green eyes.

Damn.

“Feels good, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with unmistakable hunger and those damn eyes penetrating mine, radiating more of that hunger.

My core sang out its need but I acted like I had no clue what he was going on about. I remained silent and tried to push him again. Jesus, his muscles had multiplied since the last time I’d touched him. And they were rock hard. Good lord, I was done for if he pushed this. I could keep my heart closed but my body could never deny him.

He dipped his face towards mine and said, “Your hands on me... feels good. Been too fuckin’ long.”

God, why do you hate me?

Why do you send temptation my way when you know it will only lead to more heartbreak?

I dropped my hands and tried to harden my gaze. I needed to show him I had no intention of going there with him again. “And it won’t happen again,” I snapped. “Now let me through.”

His brows raised but he stepped aside, and I finally entered the kitchen to find my mother busy at the sink washing up. Tupperware containers surrounded her, confusing the hell out of me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

She kept washing but turned her head to look at me. Smiling, she said, “Kick dropped by to say hello and I’m thankful he did because I got him to change the washer on the tap. It had been leaking for ages, driving me crazy.”

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