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Paisley still takes my breath away. Her creamy skin shines like smooth porcelain and her pink lips are full and look so delicious my mouth waters. I forget all about pizza. I just want to taste that mouth again. I want to feel her tongue pushing against mine in that greedy way she has. Suddenly my slacks feel too tight, and I move the pizza boxes to hide my reaction to her.
“Haven’t had them in so long,” she gives me a small smile as she comes closer, “did you get me mushrooms?”
“Extra with sausage,” I manage as I smell her perfume and sweet shampoo over the sausage and pepperoni.
“Oh man, I can’t wait. Come on, let’s take it to the kitchen, those littles were excited about pizza,” she laughs as she reaches for the pizza.
Our fingers brush on the boxes and that same electricity that was always there between us sizzles up my arm. My eyes shoot to hers and I see she feels it too. Her cheeks bloom with a flush and Christ, I want to brush my lips over the pink. It spreads down her throat, and I know it goes lower to her breasts. My eyes glance down just briefly, and I see not only am I right, but her nipples are also beaded beneath her lacy top and I swallow back a groan.
“Paisley,” I whisper softly, tugging gently at the boxes to draw her closer, “I am not happy you’re here this way but...I am happy you’re here. Seeing you again.... I missed you,” I admit.
Her sharp intake of breath is loud in the quiet. We stand there in the foyer, a clock ticking somewhere sounding too loud. Her eyes come to mine, and I see her battle several emotions. She still resents me a little, and she hates being here right now, but I think maybe she missed me too. She won’t admit that to me though, but that’s okay.
“Come on, let’s eat,” she says and leads the way to the kitchen.
When we reach the kitchen, I see Connor and Hailee waiting with the kids. They were clearly giving us a moment alone and I thank them with a look. It did little good, but it was nice to have a moment with her to myself. Hopefully I can get more moments with her while she is here.
Before long, we are all talking and laughing together. It’s not like old times because there is still a wall between Paisley and I, but it’s not as awful as I feared. I even win a few smiles and a laugh or two from her. After being starved for her for all these years, I will fucking take it.
When the kids are talking about their very busy and important day, my focus is on Paisley. She listens to them with a smile on her face, chin in her hand, paying them all her attention. I think about how she said she never wanted kids when we were together. About how she said she was afraid of being a bad mom because she was such a mess sometimes.
I always liked how messy she was. How her dark hair was always a mess because she didn’t waste time on how she looked. How those fingertips were always stained with ink or paint, and how she drew on any available surface. I liked how loud she was and how big her laugh was. I liked her mess.
I miss her mess and dammit, I want it back.
And I make up my mind as I watch her laughing with our best friends and their kids that I want this life with her. I cost us so many years, but we can still have this. We can have all the things we hoped for when we were younger. Those things we talked about as if they were destined, as if they were inevitable.
We are inevitable, I believe that—now I just need to convince her.
CHAPTER 5
Paisley
* * *
Maybe second chances can be easier than I expected.
A full week after coming home, I feel less tortured by my failures. I tell myself at least I tried. At least I took a chance on myself and my dreams. I went out into the world and tried to grab hold of something with both hands. I just could not hold tight enough. And I guess there is no shame in coming home and licking your wounds while you decide what comes next.
Being around my best friends again and bonding with their cute babies has been a blessing. I have had no time to wallow in my own self-pity. Hailee won’t allow for that. Neither of the Mitchell’s are big on pity—they are both champions of living life to its fullest. I am quickly reminded of how they embrace life—good or bad—and how I stopped doing that a long time ago.
Bran being at their place that night we had pizza was easier than I thought too. Just seeing him again took my breath away, I won’t deny that. He is so handsome still, aged just a little by whatever keeps him busy these days. Harder lines at his face and his big body is bigger and wider than I remember. I remember feeling so safe with him because he was this huge football player who laid guys out for fun.
When he brought me my favorite pizza and told me he missed me, I had to bite back the truth. I miss him too. Miss laughing with him and talking to him late into the night about nothing and everything. Hailee is my best friend, but he and I were friends before we became more. He knows me better than anyone else does and knows things I never even told Hailee.
Bran would be the first person I would tell about flirting with someone on a dating app.
Not that I ought to be flirting with anyone when I can’t stop thinking about Bran. I knew once I saw him again it was going to mix up all my feelings again, so I thought I was prepared. I was not prepared. Seeing him for those few hours, eating our favorite pizza, laughing and talking with our friends and their kids, it made me long for things I know I can’t have. It made me wish we had figured things out so we could have the life they do.
Because I am so confused and frustrated, I have thrown myself into this flirtation with a stranger on this stupid dating app. We talk several times a day about what we’re doing, what we wish we were doing, who we are, and who we want to be. Within a few days, I find myself looking forward to each message and excitement lights me up whenever my phone pings with a message.
Him: Morning beautiful. What is keeping you busy today?
Flushing as I read his daily morning greeting, I type out a response as I rush around wrapped in a towel. Me: Looking for work. Have a meeting with someone interested in opening a gallery. I am so excited.
Him: That is exciting. Would you run this place?
Pulling on an airy lace dress that flares out at my hips and tucks in at my waist, I think about how to answer that. Today I am meeting with Gabe Holmes, Hollywood actor, millionaire philanthropist, and local good ol’ boy who has taken on the task of revitalizing Crystal Cove, our neighboring small city, and Harmony Hollow. He has money to burn, and a gallery is where he wants to fan the flames next.
