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My name is scrawled across the front in Cash’s handwriting, and my heart palpitates as I open it.
June,
I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want things to go back to the way they were.
I don’t think they can.
Cash
P.S. I left something in the hall for you.
I open the door and lose my breath.
Cash is shirtless in the hall, one muscular tan arm up, resting against the door jamb. His hair is wet and curly, and that blue-eyed stare consumes me.
“Cash.”
“I write you a love letter and all you can say is my name?” he asks, his lips parting into a heartbreaking smile. “Again.”
“Huh?” I can barely function.
“Say it again.”
“Cash,” I say.
“May I come in?” he asks gruffly.
I step back to admit him, and he stalks into the room, taking up all the space and air.
I shut the door, even though I know that’s looking for trouble. Being alone with him is difficult. “You said you don’t want to stop.”
“That’s right.” He leans against my desk, arms folded, and considers me. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you, June,” he says.
I’ve waited so long to hear those words. “I want you too, but I’m not going to get my heart trampled again, and you’re not interested in anything serious. And Olivia—”
“What has she got to do with anything?”
I let out a breath. “Oh, come on. Come on, Cash.”
He tilts his head, spearing me with those deep blue eyes.
“You were engaged. You have a child together. You chose Olivia. Look,” I say, “look, this is already complicated, but the fact that you’re Olivia’s ex is just another level of fucked up.”
“She’s not in Alex’s life. She’s not in yours or mine. Don’t see why it’s a problem.”
“Because.”
“Say it. Say what you want to say, June. Don’t hold back because of someone else’s feelings.”
I swallow. “Because it’s just weird. You and Olivia shared something deep, and you’re not prepared to do that again. I’m not prepared to stick around in this town, not when my mother is living right next door, and even saying that is getting ahead of myself. I’m not sure I can be with you and not get emotional.”
Cash pushes off the desk and crosses the distance between us. He takes me by the arms, stroking his thumbs over my skin, and making sure I look him in the eyes. “I wanted you first.”
I shake my head. “Cash, you were the one who told me you were dating her, remember? That night? On the bleachers after the game? I’ll never forget it because it felt like someone had driven a red-hot poker through my chest.”
