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We’re seated on the terrace at the dinner table, everyone relaxed and loose after one too many drinks. The lanterns and candlelight alone illuminate the small section of the cliff top we’re sitting upon, radiating a golden hue over Scarlet’s sun-kissed skin. My eyes have barely drifted from her all evening, and when they have, it only takes that laugh to fall from her lips, and my head turns straight back.
I rib Mason, telling him he’s whipped with Nina, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been so enamoured by a woman in my life.
And while she might look perfectly fine, might tell me she’s perfectly fine, I know that she’s a million miles from the word.
“Guys, I want to make a toast tonight.” I watch as she stands, lifting her glass and waiting for everyone to settle down. She’s been drinking cocktails with the girls all night, and I can tell she’s struggled to keep up. She’s smiley and rosy-cheeked. Perfect, but maybe a little drunk too. “I want to toast us being here together. It’s been years since we’ve been out here, Mase, and I honestly never expected to feel as content as I do standing here now.” She looks around the table and smiles. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say it’s been a hard couple of months.” Her voice cracks, and so does my chest, catching us both off guard. “But the crazy thing is, at least to me, is that I can stand here confidently with old and new friends and say that anything I’ve lost has been returned tenfold.” I wait for her eyes to meet mine, but they don’t. “You girls don’t give my feet a chance to fully land most days, and it keeps me exactly where I need to be.” Nina reaches out and takes her hand. “I’m blessed—beyond measure to have you all. And—I…” She frowns, her emotions creeping up on her fast. Too fast. “And I want to toast… to you—us… for that.” She swallows as she lifts her glass higher, forcing a smile. “To us.”
“To us!” Everyone follows, standing to clink glasses, the girls cheering.
I watch as she sits back down in her chair, her stare heavy as everyone else carries on around her. I watch it consume her second by second. Dragging her all the way down.
When she stands and slips quietly from the table, I follow, making sure to use the sliding doors that connect to the bedroom instead of the one she went through. I walk down the hall and catch her on the threshold, my arms wrapping around her body as she ploughs into my chest.
She gasps, looking up at me. “Lance.” She blinks, swallowing hard before forcing that same haunted smile she wore at the table onto her face.
“Your smile is my undoing, sunshine, possibly my favourite thing in the entire world, but you don’t have to be brave in front of me.”
Her chin wobbles, eyes shining as she shakes her head. Lost. She looks so fucking lost it steals my ability to breathe. “I forget… so easily it makes me sick to my stomach. And then I remember he’s gone, and it’s like being back in that moment all over again.”
“I know,” I say, barely a whisper.
“I’m broken.”
I pull her into my chest, my hands weaving in her hair. “You’re not broken, Scar.”
It took everything inside of me to walk away from her sitting on that sofa this afternoon.
To not reach out and touch her.
Inhale her.
Her eyes lift, wide and lost, as tears coat her cheeks. I lean in and gently smear a tear away with my nose, my lips dusting as they follow. She pushes up onto her tiptoes, turning her face toward my mouth as I move, searching as I ease back and catch the tears on the other side.
It’s been so long.
I’ve missed her so fucking much.
“Lance.” Her body presses into mine, so familiar, so fuckingher.
My parted lips drag down her cheek, too far gone and flirting with the corner of her mouth.
“Scar—”
She dips her head, sealing her lips over mine as she slides her palms up the back of my neck. I shudder.
It’s desperate. A messy clash of tongues and teeth. Everything I need and want and miss.
I frown, breaking the kiss. “Scar.” Our foreheads touch, breaths ragged.
She pulls away, her eyes heavy as she smooths her hand down the side of my face and neck. Her touch: my undoing. “I want you,” she says breathlessly.
My jaw clenches, and I step back, fighting it. “But will you want me tomorrow?”
Her face drops, sadness washing out the slight rose tint staining her cheeks from our kiss.
I look down at her, wanting nothing more than to take her in my arms, take her to my room, wrap her in every bit of happiness she ever gave me and tell her everything is going to be okay. “You were upset at the table. I’m not going to fuck this up completely by taking you like this. Before we have a chance to talk.”
Her face screws up in pain, and she drops her head. “You weren’t the one who fucked this up, Lance.”
