Page 41 of Hearts on the Mend

It’s too much before I can think better of it. Actually messy and urgent, just desperate to erase the time that’s spread between us. It feels like we have lived lifetimes since that night together, but all I know is I can’t stop thinking about him.

His arm crushes me against him. Our bodies both cold and shivering. It hurts to breathe, and still, I kiss him, kiss him until the air burns in my lungs. When we break apart, I might as well be looking at the stormy Atlantic and not Nolan Murphy, because it’s the same overwhelming feeling.

“Why’d you do that?” he snaps.

I blink, words tumbling around my head but staying frozen in my mouth.

“I needed to,” I say in a small whisper, as if that’s enough, but it doesn’t begin to explain it.

“You need to get inside. You’re shivering.”

We grab our things and march toward the house, not saying any more as our feet sink into the soft sand of the dunes.

“This way,” he says, bringing me to the back deck. “I’ll find you something warm to wear.”

My brain, my heart, are still back on that beach, kissing him. Frozen at the possibility that sparked between us. Almost a year, and it was…

“Cassie,” he snaps again.

I roll my eyes, whacking my hand against his stomach to cut him off and pull open the slider door. If we’re going to just pretend it didn’t happen—fine.

“See you took my suggestion. Maybe a little too literally.” Kathleen stands in the kitchen, shoving two mugs of hot chocolate toward us with whipped cream. “Extra marshmallows, just how you like it, Nolan.”

“You gave her that idea?” Nolan drops his voice, swallowing hard.

I can’t tell if my kiss has him out of sorts or the swim after me. But the man is furious, can see it in his eyes. And still, the walls are there.

“I only mentioned a walk. The Polar Plunge was a few weeks ago, hon.” Kathleen shrugs, then heads over toward Nolan. She reaches up and wipes off my smudged lipstick at the corner of his mouth. “Drink up and get changed, kids. We’ve got Ruby.”

Chapter 13

Nolan

“How’s work on the house coming?” my therapist asks.

Shannon’s seated across from me, her legs folded, hugging that weighted penguin pillow again. The soft gurgle of the water fountain to her left is all I can focus on. I squint as a headache throbs behind my eyes at the bright light. I can’t shake it, just like how I can’t shake that kiss Cassie and I shared on the beach yesterday.

That kiss.

It’s a weight pressing against my chest. The memory of it on repeat. And for the last twenty-four hours, I’ve had to walk around and pretend as if that didn’t change everything.

But it fucking did.

And now we’re just playing a giant game of chicken.

“The house, Nolan,” my therapist presses again.

I clear my throat and lean forward in my chair. It’s as if my back is in a vice today. If I move the wrong way, a searing zap courses down my spine, and if I don’t move, my skin is so tight I swear I could be claustrophobic.

“It’s a bitch. Nothing works. It’s falling apart. This was a big job, and they should have hired a construction company.”

“I thought you said you were doing her a favor.”

“A favor is picking up someone at the airport, helping a friend move. It sure as hell isn’t renovating an old house.”

“And she’s not your friend?”

“I don’t know why we’re talking about her at all,” I snap.