Page 27
He nods, squeezing my hand again. “Of what could have been if I had told you I liked you back in high school.”
My heart skips, then races. His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand, the callouses from years of guitar playing creating a delicious friction against my skin. I’ve imagined those hands on me more times than I’d want to admit.
“Viv, I’ve had a massive crush on you for twenty years,” he continues, his Welsh accent thickening with emotion. “And I still want you with the same intensity, and now with desperation in the mix. I spent nights writing music about us and what could have been. I’ve imagined us together, traveling, goofing around, eating together… and making love.”
He brings our joined hands to his chest, pressing my palm against his heart. Its rapid beat is palpable through the thin fabric of the hospital gown.
“I want every single moment of my life to be spent with or around you. To make up for lost time.” His voice drops to almost a whisper, rough with emotion. “I’ve never wanted anything or anyone as hard and deeply as I want you, Vivian. And I want to be yours, if you’ll have me.”
My throat tightens, emotions swelling until I can barely breathe. All those years I spent fantasizing about the lead singer of Dark Distortion, never connecting him to the shy, blond, skinny boy from high school that I used to crush on. All those nights at concerts, positioning myself where he might see me. And he saw me. He remembered me. He wanted me too.
The realization is overwhelming—that we’ve been circling each other for decades, both yearning, both afraid, neither speaking.
“Andy...” The nickname slips out naturally as I stand from my chair beside his bed. I keep our fingers interlaced, moving closer to him. With my free hand, I cup his face gently, careful of his bruises, and lean down.
Our lips meet softly at first, mindful of his stitches. His right hand releases mine to cup my jaw, thumb brushing my cheekbone as he kisses me back. It’s slow, languid, none of the frantic desperation of the kiss we shared back in the forest. This one speaks of years of yearning, of futures possible, of second chances finally taken.
I pour every bit of my long-held crush into the kiss—every concert I attended just to glimpse him, every fantasy I indulged in while his voice filled my headphones. His lips move against mine with equal fervor, telling me without words that I wasn’t alone in this longing.
When I finally pull back, he’s smiling—a rueful, tender smile that transforms his face from intimidating rockstar to the golden retriever personality he truly embodies.
“I really like a woman who takes the initiative,” he says, voice smoky.
My eyes drift down, noticing the tent that’s formed in the thin hospital blanket covering his lap. He follows my gaze, then smirks, that expression evolving into a broad, unabashed smile.
“What?” he asks innocently. “You expect me not to get hard when the woman I’ve wanted for decades kisses me out of the blue? I’m injured, not dead.”
I playfully swat his uninjured arm, and he clutches it dramatically, pretending I’ve wounded him. “Ow! Abuse! Nurse!”
“You’re a child.” I laugh.
He pulls me closer, his lips brushing against mine as he whispers, “You turn me on like no one else does. And you make my heart beat like I’ve never felt before.” The deep rumble of his voice sends shivers down my spine, reminding me of my very real voice kink where he’s concerned. “Sorry about the kidnapping, though.”
I kiss him again, letting myself melt into it. His hand slides into my hair, cradling the back of my head like I’m something precious. When we part, we’re both breathing harder, and the monitor tracking his heartbeat beeps slightly faster.
“When they release me from this place,” he murmurs against my lips, “I’m taking you on a proper date. No kidnapping, no serial killers, no forest chases.”
“Sounds boring,” I tease.
He laughs, wincing slightly at the pain it causes. “I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.” His expression turns more serious. “Twenty years, Viv. I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”
“We both do, fy unig gariad,” I agree, resting my forehead gently against his.
And as his lips find mine again, I realize that our story—however twisted its beginning—is just getting started. After two decades of parallel paths, we’ve finally, violently, beautifully collided. And despite everything—or maybe because of it—I wouldn’t change a single moment that led us here.
Chapter 13
Andrew
Back where it all started.
One year later
The afternoon sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the windshield as I kill the engine. I turn to look at Vivian, sound asleep in the passenger seat, her auburn curls framing her face like a halo. A year ago, I brought her to this forest against her will, desperate and obsessed. Today, I’ve brought her here with love, to reclaim a place that should have been traumatic but somehow became the starting point of everything good in my life.
“We’re here, Viv,” I say softly, though I already know she can’t hear me.
She looks adorable asleep, her chest rising and falling with each breath, eyelashes sweeping against her cheeks in a way that makes my fingers itch to trace them. A soft snore escapes her lips, and I can’t help but smile. I love that sound, love knowing she’s comfortable enough with me to let her guard down completely. Hell, I wish I could sleep like that, especially when our upstairs neighbor decides to practice her catwalk routine at 4 AM for reasons I’ve never dared to investigate.
