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I step into it, and he pulls it up, his lips dragging up my right thigh as he does.
Fuck. I don’t know if I can handle him tearing me apart again tonight.
He grabs the bikini top. It’s just a couple of triangles with strings holding it together. He slips it through my arms, positioning it over my breasts before tying it together in the front.
No doubt he chose this one on purpose, too. Easy to take it off whenever he wants.
With a hand on my back, he leads me to the hot tub. He steps in first, making his way down the stairs. I watch as the water envelops him and steam curls around his muscled body. He turns when he’s waist-deep, looking me up and down.
“I suppose you should take your heels off. Regrettable.”
I snap out of my trance and kick them off, then walk to the edge of the water, forgetting about the stairs. After lowering myself so I’m sitting on the ledge, I dip my legs in. It’s always taken me longer to get used to the high temperature of hot tubs.
Taking a seat and leaning back, Alexander watches me closely. There’s a hunger in his eyes, but there’s something else, too. A darkness—the same kind that showed up when he confronted Tristan at the club.
It’s a part of him that I let fade from my memories over the years. It had always scared me, but it had comforted me, too. When we were together, I knew he’d do anything to protect me.
Except stop his father from ruining yours.
Gripping the ledge of the hot tub, I try to shake off the feeling. We were teenagers. What could he have done?
Warned me. Taken me away from it all.
“Are you all right?” Alexander’s voice is deep and low, laced with concern.
I realize there are tears in my eyes. Blinking them away, I slide into the tub, ignoring the heat as it bites at my skin. “Just remembering.”
He pulls me onto his lap effortlessly, locking me in. I place a hand on his arm, and his muscles tense. “Tell me more.”
My lips part slightly, but then I shake my head. There’s no way we’re talking about our parents. “What was your favorite part of us?”
It’s a question I shouldn’t be asking. I told him this was a one-time thing, and I meant it. I still do. But I’ve always wondered if he still thinks about me. If he regrets me. Or if he misses me.
“You.” He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. “All of you. Your laugh, your gentle voice, the way you clung to me when you fell asleep in my arms. How you could never get enough of me.”
An ache blooms in my chest, and I can’t look him in the eyes. “I always felt safe with you.” And free.
We sit in silence for a moment, his hand running up and down my spine. I let myself pretend that we’re eighteen, that our parents hadn’t had the mysterious falling out they had. That our futures are still hopeful and intertwined with each other’s.
But then Alexander breaks the silence. “Why are you here?”
I don’t answer, and he places two fingers under my chin and lifts, forcing me to look at him. His face is mostly unreadable, but there’s a hint of curiosity in his eyes.
But I haven’t been able to figure out why I said yes.
Is it because I just wanted a break from the mundane reality of my life? Because I miss the luxury of living in a mansion and not having to worry about money? Is it because I know that if I play my cards right, Alexander is a one-way ticket to financial security?
As I bring up a hand to trace his jawline, I can’t help but feel that there’s more to why I came out with him tonight. That a part of my heart—if not the whole thing—will always ache for Alexander. Will always belong to him. And I can’t deny the fact that I’ve never quite gotten over him.
But none of that changes the fact that five years ago, he ripped my heart out of my chest and left me bleeding out. And then his father somehow managed to dissolve my father’s companies and reputation until there was nothing left except a pile of ashes.
“Sophia.”
I don’t know what to tell him. So I slip a hand behind his neck, nestling closer in his lap, and press my lips to his. At first, he stays stiff, unsure if he can trust this. But then he deepens the kiss, caressing my neck.
And then I’m shifting so I’m straddling him, and his hands are gripping my ass. My hands explore his chest, more muscled than it was when we were kids.
“I loved this, too,” Alexander says in between kisses. “I miss the way we craved each other. I miss ripping all of your clothes off and claiming you as mine. I miss the way I could have you wet whenever I wanted, even if we were fighting.”
