Kason unlocks the door to his condo and lets me in, but something feels different between us. Somehow, within the hours of this day, something has shifted between us, and I wonder if he feels it, too.
“I’ll go get you a change of clothes so you can get cleaned up,” he says as he walks into his bedroom.
I follow, and when he pulls out a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt for me, I take them into the bathroom and close the door. After I strip out of his gym clothes, I pull my wet hair down from its ponytail before stepping into his shower. Standing under the spray, I think about Kason in the other room and contemplate what it would be like to be with him again. My mind drifts back to how incredible life was when we were together. It was as if I were floating above the bands of gravity and nothing could ever bring me down.
Only, something did bring me down, and we wound up crashing and burning. It wasn’t because we fell out of love, though. It wasn’t because I didn’t care about him or didn’t want him. I never stopped wanting him.
I lied to myself when I started healing from the loss of him, convincing myself that I was moving on and falling out of love. It took my coming back here for me to realize that I never fell out of love with him and that what we had is still here. That not even time or distance could snuff what was lit ablaze when we first met.
So, if I’ve been lying to myself, does that mean I’ve been lying to Micah as well? Have I tricked myself into thinking I’m in love with him the same way I tricked myself into believing I was over Kason?
Thoughts contradict, and I’m not sure at this point what is real and what isn’t.
I dump some of Kason’s shampoo into my hand and wash the grime out of my hair before cleaning my body, and before I know it, I’m intoxicated by his scent. It fills the steamy air around me, and when I turn off the water and dry off, I wipe my hand across the foggy mirror and stare at myself. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts, as if Micah doesn’t mean anything to me, because he does. He absolutely does. It’s just . . . what if Kason means more?
I toss on the clothes, find a blow drier, and dry my hair before walking out into the living room.
“Better?” he says, and I simply nod because my thoughts have my nerves wrecked right now. Almost as if I’m committing a crime just by looking at him. “I’m going to hop in myself. Give me ten minutes.”
He closes the door to his bedroom, and after I hear the water turn on, I wander over to the windows and take in his view of the port. Cruise ships, along with other various boats, take occupancy in the water, and I think back to when boats were the only thing that would bring me a sense of sanity. Subconsciously, I begin to count the same way I used to when I first moved to Miami, but too soon, they’re all accounted for, not even coming close to the hundreds of yachts that line the marina outside of my bedroom window.
I used to lie in bed, counting and crying until my vision blurred and my heart struggled to beat under the unforgiving weight of sadness. My world was falling apart, and I was utterly hopeless—beyond repair. Never had I felt so alone.
“Is everything okay?”
His soft voice has me turning toward it. He’s standing at my side with his hair still damp from his shower, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. I didn’t even hear him walk into the room.
When I blink, I realize my eyes are misty, and I turn back to the boats, thinking about all the times I wished for him as I lied in bed alone.
“I used to count boats,” I murmur out of nowhere. “My window back home in Miami looks out over a marina. It was the only way I could fall asleep.”
“Why?”
I look up into his eyes that harbor so much grief and tell him, “Because I couldn’t get rid of the fear from that night. It was the only way I could distract myself.”
“Tell me more. I want to know what this did to you,” he pleads, his voice a whispered strain, eager to connect himself in any way he can to what I kept from him.
“I was terrified of the dark for the longest time. I always needed a light on. It embarrassed me and made me feel so weak.” I wrap my arms around myself and continue, “I couldn’t sleep at night because I was too scared, so I’d wait until the sun came up. Something about daylight made things seem a little safer.”
He nods as if remembering all the naps I would take. All the excuses.
“Give me more.”
I push against the anguish of that time and ignore the ache in my chest as I give him what he needs to know. “I couldn’t be around crowds without freaking out. I had constant nightmares and panic attacks.” My throat constricts, and I swallow hard, forcing my next words out on a voice that trembles. “And then there was you.” My eyes well with tears. “I would lie in bed at night and text you.”
His brows narrow. “I never got any texts.”
“I never sent them.” I blink and memories streak down my cheeks. “I would type them out and delete them. For months, that’s all I did. Type and delete, type and delete.”
“What did they say?”
I drop my arms from around me and look deeply into his eyes. And it’s now that I know. I feel it swimming in my bones—a love that is so whole and so intense and so pure, nothing could possibly measure up to what we share.
“Tell me what they said.”
Abandoning all restraint, I hand over words I should’ve never kept from him. “That I was sorry. That I missed you. That I didn’t want you to hate me.” My voice splinters as tears spill over. “And that I loved you.”
He takes a step closer to me, closing the space between us.
“Because I do, Kason. I love you, and I don’t ever see that stopping.”
He takes my face in his hands, and we’re kissing. Urgently, passionately, recklessly. He pushes his body against mine, and in a rush, we stumble to his bedroom as our lips tangle. We fall onto the bed, and I can barely breathe. It’s madness and desire mixed with so many years lost, and I just want him back.
He pulls my T-shirt off, and my head spins in waves that crash over me too fast and too hard, rendering me breathless. “Kason, wait.”
He takes his lips from my neck and stares down at me as our chests pant against each other. A heavy breath kicks out of him, and when I reach up to touch his face, he stills with uncertainty.
“Slow, okay?”
He drops his head to mine with a sigh, and this time, when I press my lips to his, he takes them gently, caressing his tongue along mine, and before I know it, our bodies begin to move. Our hands explore and reacquaint, and he open-mouth kisses my breasts. He suckles, long and slow, causing my back to bow off the bed, needing more of him on me. He loves me perfectly, every touch of him has me wanting more.
His large hands drop down to the waistband of my pants, and I lift my hips when he tugs down and slides them off my legs. He has me entirely naked beneath him with my heart completely exposed.
“Tell me you want me,” he says, needy for my reassurance, and I give it to him easily.
“I want you, Kason. I always have.”
He kisses me, and I grip the elastic band of his gym shorts and push down. When he kicks them off, he reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out a condom, laying it on the bed next to me before sitting back on his heels. My heart pounds as I watch him grip my knees and spread my legs open. His eyes pierce through mine so lovingly before they roam down my bare body and stop between my thighs.
I’m completely exposed to him, but I’ve never felt safer than what I do right now. He’s had my heart from the very beginning, and I trust him with my everything. His fingers touch me, and I gasp to finally have this back. It’s a powerful sensation, one that shakes me to the core, and when he slides a finger inside me, a strangled whimper falls from my lips.
“You were all I ever wanted,” he says as he strokes me. “It wasn’t even a choice for me.”
I reach down and take his erection in the palm of my hand, curving my fingers around him. We used to struggle with intimacy, fighting our way to finally be together, but right now he’s hard with nothing standing in the way of us because this is where we belong.
Slowly, he drags his finger out of me, and while I continue to work him in my hand, he grabs the condom and tears it open. Once he’s sheathed and we’re safe, he bends over and kisses me open and deep as he slowly pushes his way inside me, filling me entirely with all of him. I’m breathless, feeding on the air from his lungs as he takes me as his. But he doesn’t have to take. I’m freely giving myself to him. Melded as one being, I clutch my arms around him and feel his back quake a couple of times against my hands. His hips don’t move as I hold him to me, and when he finally raises his head enough to rest it against mine, I see his tears as he stares into my eyes. My own form, slipping out and rolling down my temples and into my hair. Never in my life have I felt as close and connected to another human as what I do right now—with him.
In the midst of so much pain and so much adoration, we kiss away each other’s tears as we make love.
But we don’t stop there, and I know better than to assume that we could be together for just the one time, and it would be enough. That isn’t who Kason is. That isn’t who we are together. It never has been. So, as we lie in bed naked and I feel him growing hard against me, I begin dropping kisses along his neck to let him know I’m okay to go again.
And we do, making love as the sun burns out, giving way to the moon and stars. I lose myself as we go into the night, growing needier and needier. And when my body fails and I’m forced to take a break, I crawl between his thighs and love him with my mouth, taking care of him while I buy time before having sex again.
Entirely spent, I doze off for a bit before waking to find him sitting up in bed with a dreadful look on his face and his fist pressed down on himself. He sees my unspoken question and bites down in frustration.
“It’s okay,” I assure him.
“I can’t push you again.”
“You aren’t pushing me.” In the dark, I grab another condom before taking his fist and moving it away from the erection he’s trying to suppress.
I straddle his lap and slide the condom over him. There’s shame eating away at him when he says, “You don’t have to do this, Adaline.”
Positioning him at my opening, I drop down and take him inside me with a heady breath of pleasure, moaning softly as he fills me. Rolling my hips, I tangle my fingers in his hair as he drags his soft tongue over my nipple and suckles me.
Spent and lying next to him, my muscles ache, but I don’t dare complain. I’m back in the arms of my everything, and with my head on his chest, I listen to his heart as it beats its I love yous against me. I try to force my eyes to stay open, wondering if he’s going to need me again before the sun returns, but I can’t hold on any longer as I finally hand myself over to sleep.
When I do wake again, I’m alone. I sit up in bed and look out the window to see dawn on the horizon before turning to the sliver of light peeking out from under the bathroom door. It’s agonizing, the sorrow I feel for him and the battle his body endures day in and day out. It’s an endless discomfort he suffers from, and it tears me apart that he’s so afraid to get help.
Slipping out of bed, I wrap the sheet around my naked body and pad across the room. I hate that he feels so guilty about coming on to me again that he’s hiding away in the bathroom. Slowly, I crack the door open to find him masturbating. He’s lost in ecstasy, panting in staggering breaths with his eyes closed. I watch him for a second, and even though he’s a slave to this debilitating hunger, I’m mesmerized by his beauty.
Dropping the sheet from around me, I step behind him, and the moment I wrap my arms around his middle and hug my chest to his back, his body flinches, and his eyes pop open, staring into the mirror at me. His chest expands and contracts with each hard breath he takes, and when I slip my body to his front, I run my fingers along his hairline, collecting beads of sweat.
“You don’t have to be in here alone.”
“It’s too much.”
I shake my head at his words. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much. I promise, I will.”
He then grabs my hips, lifts me onto the counter, and spreads my legs open. “I love you so fucking much,” he professes before sinking into me. We throw caution out the window, foregoing a condom because we’re simply too desperate for each other to care. Kason holds my thighs in his hands as I lean back against the mirror. I watch him watching where our bodies connect as he makes love to me, and I swear to God, he’s my heart’s scripture.