Page 92 of After the Burn

I regretted that Ben and I had started mending our relationship, only for Nash to rob us of it.

Adrian gently kissed the top of my head. “I understand that now, but back then I was just a young kid. I believed that if I took some time away, I’d eventually be able to return. I wasn’t lying when I told you that.” He paused, then continued, “Time passed quickly, and when I finally came home, you weren’t the snaggle-toothed little girl I’d left behind. You were this confident, vibrant young woman, so incredibly beautiful. I fell in love with you immediately.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’ve loved you for so long that I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.” I sighed softly. “But now I love Beck too.”

“I know you do.” He pulled me even closer. “I never, in my wildest dreams, thought I’d be able to share you with someone. Now I think it’s the only way to keep you safe.”

I tilted my head up. “You know I can take care of myself, right?”

“I don’t doubt it for a minute. That devious mind of yours is one of my favorite things about you.”

I laughed. “So, it’s not my perfect ass?”

“No,” Adrian smirked. “But that ass has appeared in my dreams long before it was appropriate.”

“Your ass has featured in several of my dreams too.” I grinned slyly.

He stood suddenly and pulled me to my feet. “I’ve waited long enough to get inside you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder.

Had the pod people taken him over? Adrian had never been this impulsive.

He interrupted my thoughts by kicking open the door to the first bedroom he reached. “Get those clothes off and lie on the bed.”

That bossy tone was more like what I was used to.

I stripped as fast as humanly possible and lay flat, feeling myself grow damp at the admiration on his face. I was a little self-conscious about the weight I’d lost, but the look in his eyes told me he was far from disappointed.

Adrian looked at me like he was trying to memorize every piece of me before the world found another way to pull us apart.

The very thought of that made my chest tighten.

“What?” I asked softly.

A slow smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I’m trying to decide how I got lucky enough to be standing here.”

He took another step until he stood beside the bed, the lantern in the room casting warm light across the sharp angles of his face. There were shadows beneath his eyes from too many sleepless nights, yet somehow, he’d never looked more like the boy I’d spent years trying to hate.

His fingertips softly moved a loose strand of hair away from my face, a gesture so tender it nearly made me cry.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted quietly.

My throat tightened. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

“You’re the one who left.”

“I know that, too.”

Every ounce of anger I’d carried for years sat between us, but it didn’t feel nearly as heavy as it once had.

He leaned closer, giving me every opportunity to turn away.

I didn’t.

He kissed me gently at first, as if he were still trying to wrap his head around my being there. The hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before years of regret, longing, and words we’d never said caught up with us.