Page 11 of Stalked By the Vet

Yeah, a freaking marathon. But for the first time, I feel like I might actually reach the finish line. We dive into the gritty stuff then—the memories that claw at my insides, the nightmares that drench my sheets. It's raw, it's real, but I don't shy away. Not this time.

Later, I'm at my desk, fingers flying over the keyboard when my phone buzzes. A message from Mike. He’s been a good friend throughout all of this.

"Kelly's design won the pitch. It's brilliant," it reads.

A surge of pride swells in my chest. That's my girl—always doubted herself, but damn, she's got talent that could set the world on fire. And I've been a fool to let my demons keep me from her light.

I stand there, staring at the screen. Kelly's recognized her worth, and hell, it's about time I recognize mine too. She's the one I want beside me, the one who makes all the shadows recede. And I'm done letting my past hold me back from our future.

I push open the door to the coffee shop, the scent of roasted beans hitting me like a welcome slap in the face. The place is buzzing with life, but my eyes zero in on her immediately—Kelly, sitting at our old table, fingers twisting a lock of hair.

She stills whens she sees me. Her eyes widen, and her lips part slightly.

"Greg," she breathes out as I approach, and that one word is laced with so many emotions it nearly knocks the air from my lungs.

"Kelly." My voice feels rough, unpracticed, but it's full of everything I haven't been able to say.

We stand there for a moment, the world blurring into insignificance around us. Then, as if pulled by some magnetic force, we collide, her body slamming into mine with an urgency that leaves no space for doubt or hesitation. Her arms wrap around my neck, my hands find the small of her back, and we cling to each other like we're the only solid things left in a spinning universe.

"God, I've missed you," I whisper against her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of strawberries and something uniquely Kelly.

"Me too. So much," she says, her voice muffled against my chest.

We pull back just enough to see each other's faces, and that's when the apologies start tumbling out, clumsy and heartfelt. "I'm sorry for shutting you out," I say, the words feeling like shards of glass in my throat.

"And I'm sorry for pushing too hard," she counters, her brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Let's just...let's just be there for each other, okay? Fully, without holding anything back," I propose, desperate for her to understand.

"Deal." She nods, and in her eyes, I see the reflection of my own resolve.

"Full disclosure then," she begins, biting her lip. "Your demons scare the hell out of me sometimes, but they're part of you. And I love all of you, Greg. Even the broken bits."

"Jesus, Kelly," I say, a laugh bubbling up because she's just so damn perfect in her honesty. "You know how to knock a guy off his feet."

She grins, that infectious smile that could light up the darkest corners of my mind. "Only if he's wearing combat boots."

"Smartass." I chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. How did I get so lucky?

"Love you, Greg" she whispers, and the world tilts again, but this time in the best possible way.

"Love you more," I reply, and it's not just words. It's a vow, a promise etched deep into my soul.

We lean in, our lips meeting in a kiss that's sweet and fierce all at once, sealing our declaration. When we part, her forehead rests against mine, and I swear I can feel the strength of our bond pulsing between us like a living thing.

And it’s been too long because my cock is a leaking sieve in my pants.

“Kelly, baby, I need you,” I rasp out as I press myself against her.

Her little gasp lets me know she gets my message. She takes my hand and leads me to a back corner of the coffee shop where she opens a closet and pulls me inside.

And I don’t even give a fuck that we might get caught. As soon as that door shuts, I slam her against the wall and pull her thighs up.

Her breath catches, a mix of excitement and urgency sparking in her eyes. "Greg," Her voice is a husky whisper that drives me wild.

"Can't wait," I growl back, my hands roaming over her body with a hunger that's been pent up too long. My fingers trail down the curves of her hips, gripping her tighter to me. The close confines of the closet amplify every sound, every breath—a cacophony of desire.

She wraps her legs around my waist. "Me either," she moans as she teasingly bites her lip.

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