Page 56 of A Simple Regret

“Oh,” I reply, my breath rushing out as I relax. “Okay.”

When I look up and meet his gaze, there’s an intensity that makes me gulp. “Why, Maren?”

It’s not a question, but despite that fact, he deserves answers. “I was scared.”

That doesn’t seem to be the answer he was expecting. “What? Why?”

I exhale, trying to will my racing heart to slow. “Can we sit?” I ask, my legs feeling a bit weak.

He doesn’t reply, just walks over to the table and takes a seat in the same chair he occupied at dinner.

I sit across from him, his eyes watching my every move. “You know my parents were having issues my senior year, but the truth is, they had been unhappy for a while. Or at least my mom was. As I approached graduation, she kept insisting I really think about my future, about what I wanted in life.”

“Are you telling me you didn’t want what we had been talking about? The future we were discussing together?” he asks, the pain written all over his face.

“No,” I insist, rubbing the side of my head. “I did want that.”

“Just not enough,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair.

“Will you let me finish, please?” I counter, getting annoyed.

He doesn’t reply, just stares at me.

Clearing my throat, I continue, “Anyway, she kept telling me that if I stayed, I was going to turn out just like her.” I feel the burn of tears, but I refuse to let them fall. I can’t change the decisions I made, just apologize to those I hurt and vow to do better moving forward.

“And you listened.” His words hold a bite, a harshness that I expect but yet, it hurts to hear, nonetheless.

“Yes.”

He huffs and shakes his head. “So, her words spoke louder than any I ever said.” The bitterness is replaced with sadness.

“In a way, yes,” I tell him, desperate to tell him everything. I need him to see the whole picture, not just a few pieces.

Unfortunately, he stands up and starts to pace immediately. “That’s great. I was expendable.”

“You weren’t,” I insist, standing up too and taking a step toward him. “Not in the way you are thinking.”

“You just said whatever I said didn’t fucking matter.”

“That’s not what I said. Stop putting words into my mouth.”

His blue eyes are blazing as he stops directly in front of me. “I fucking loved you. I would have done anything for you.”

“Same, Cam. Whether you want to believe it or not, that’s exactly how I felt about you,” I counter, starting to get angry myself, my voice rising without considering the fact my son is sleeping in the other room. “But I was a dumb kid, and I let the influence of my mom hold a little too much weight. I let her words speak louder than yours, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t hear what you were saying. She painted a picture that terrified me, but my God, Cam. I loved you so damn much. I’ve only ever loved you.”

Suddenly, he’s there. His hands thread into my hair as he gently grips the sides of my head. Moments later, his mouth slams onto mine. It’s fierce and true, as if everything I’ve been missing in my life is finally right here in front of me. It’s as if I’m truly home for the first time in more than seven years.

Home to Camden.

His tongue slides along my lips, delving into my mouth and tasting for the first time. My hands grip his shirt, my fingers holding on tightly to that soft material as I pull him closer. The desire to feel him against me is stronger than ever before, the heat of his skin, the weight of his body an addiction I didn’t even know I had until right now. Or maybe I did, but it just laid dormant in wait.

Waiting for him.

I have no idea how long we make out like teenagers. It feels like hours, yet only seconds at the same time. Eventually, he breaks the kiss, his forehead pressed against mine as we both try to catch our breath. I’m terrified to open my eyes, afraid it will all be dream.

“Where do we go from here?” I ask, vocalizing probably the most important question of all.

“I don’t know, Shortcake,” he whispers, moving his hands to my back and holding me close. There’s no missing his erection pressed firmly between us, which sends a wave of lust bolting through my veins all over again. “I’m still confused and a little mad.”