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She and I.
Together.
Nothing would come between us.
Nothing else existed but this.
Always.
Just this.
Her eyelashes fluttered closed as I pressed my mouth harder against hers.
Her tongue feathered out and licked mine hesitantly.
I opened for her.
I welcomed her.
I shuddered as we licked and remembered, exploring one another and recognising what we’d lost.
We spent another decade kissing on her front lawn. Unhurried, uncaring, totally consumed by the dance and dark heat of tongues, lips, and lust.
Lust.
I’d forgotten what it felt like.
I’d shoved it out of my mind and forbidden my body to remember.
But it remembered now.
The longer we kissed, the harder I got. The more her fingers tugged on my hair, the more I clung to control so I didn’t push her onto her back and take her right there, in front of her neighbours and their nosy cats.
With a sharp moan as if it hurt to pull away, Neri planted her hands on my shoulders and pushed back. Her lips were swollen and a delicious shade of red, making blood roar through my veins and my body snarl for more.
Climbing off my lap, she stood with a woozy sway. With a smile that captured the rest of my sorry soul, she bent down and offered me her hand. “Let’s go inside.”
For a moment, I panicked.
I’d never tried standing from kneeling before.
Would she know I was different?
I would tell her eventually.
She would see for herself that the man who’d left her wasn’t the same man who’d returned but...for now, I wanted her to see me as whole, just for a little longer.
Gritting my teeth, I accepted her hand and manoeuvred myself enough that my whole leg took most of the heavy lifting. My other swung neatly into position and the prosthetic barely moved thanks to the snug fit and tight strapping.
It didn’t ache or distract me, and I walked forward with her by my side.
We walked hand in hand down the side of the house where she now lived, past a deep-looking pool, over glittery pavers, and through a sliding door into an open-plan living, dining, and kitchen. Driftwood coffee tables, linen couches, and woven rugs gave it a beach-homey vibe.
Side lamps had been turned on, casting everything in a warm glow, but there was no sign of the guys or Ayla. Even traces of wet footprints had dried thanks to the age Neri and I had sunk into one another outside.
“You live here?” I asked quietly as Neri tugged me through the space.
My slight limp went unnoticed in the gloom as she nodded and caught my eyes. “Yes. For almost the entire time you were gone. I couldn’t...” Her voice caught, and she swallowed with a quick smile. “I couldn’t stay in our apartment in Townsville, especially not after I found out I was pregnant. And then I couldn’t stay in my old room at Mum and Dad’s. I-I don’t know if you saw the sala, but—”
