The quiet reminds me of the moment in the chapel before the statue fell from Reggie’s hands. Before the door opened and someone broke the moment into a thousand pieces. Before I ran, heart pounding, on instinct, a laugh ready on my lips. It’s like that, only stretched out a million times over.

I listen to her breathe.

It’s slow and calm, the way she used to breathe when we would watch movies together. Not at the beginning of the movie, but in the middle, when she’d get drawn into the story and forget that anyone else was with her. Or maybe it was that she didn’t care that I was with her. Maybe she felt like I did. Maybe she felt like she was right at home. Alone together, and all that. I used to say silent prayers of thanks—to who, I don’t know, whatever god was listening—that my dad was always busy as hell and my mom would spend hours on her phone, organizing events, organizing her life. It didn’t matter, because it meant I could be alone with Reggie.

It’s like that, only a million times better, because now her naked body is stretched out beside me on the bed in a state of perfect relaxation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like this, not ever. I thought she was calm during those movies. The middle of Indiana Jones was a transcendental experience. But now…

Whoever thought that I’d be in this B&B with her now? I sure as fuck didn’t. I always thought that whatever it was between me and Reckless Falls was over. Over and gone. But it’s not, clearly, and I wonder if I just ignored the ache in my chest that tugged me back here all these years, or if I never really felt it until I saw Reggie’s face again.

Water streaming off of it, screaming at me because I’d just interrupted her big breath-holding practice. A laugh rises in my chest and she puts her hand out, fingertips grazing there. “What’s funny?”

“You, out in that lake.”

“Today?” I can hear the pout in her voice. I don’t have to look, and it makes me smile, hugely, ridiculously, because Reggie is not the type to pout. She must really be feeling good if she’s willing to let her guard down like this right now.

“No. The day that I saved your life.” I catch her hand and entwine my fingers with hers in the cool space of the sheets between us. “You were so pissed at me.”

She rolls over gingerly. “Why are you thinking about that?”

“Because it’s so different from right now. Don’t you just feel like—” I’m trying to think of how to describe the sensation. It’s like being under water, the gentle pressure of it surrounding you completely. You can’t help but float, suspended under the surface, almost rising, but what could disturb you down there? Nothing, except an asshole like me, yanking you back up. I’m caught in that moment. “It’s nice here with you.” It’s a lame thing to say, but Reggie doesn’t think so. At least, I don’t get that impression by the way she sighs, right from the center of her chest.

It goes so quiet again that I can hear her heart beating. Or maybe I’m not hearing it. Maybe I’m feeling it through our hands.

How am I supposed to leave her here?

The thought comes idly, like the sound of oars on the far end of the lake. How am I supposed to leave her, indeed. Well, it’s supposed to be easy. I’m supposed to turn over the keys to my father’s house to Cole Granger, or whoever the hell buys it, and turn my back on that place forever. And on Reckless Falls forever. I’m supposed to get back into my rental car and drive back to the city. To my favorite apartment there, the one that’s the penthouse in a building that’s not quite a skyscraper but hopes to be one when it grows up. It’s a place that’s always quiet, insulated from the relentless noise of the city, but even that quiet is nothing like this.

It’s going to hurt like a motherfucker to leave. I can’t even face it head-on. My mind wrenches away from the thought completely.

“I’m sorry about the race, Reg,” I whisper. It keeps coming back to me, even now, even with my body heavy against the bed, the way she was airborne for an awful second and then slammed into the pavement. The way she almost got taken out by all those other bikes. My pulse pounds loudly in my ears at the thought of it.

“At least you were there,” she murmurs, and then shifts, rolling onto her back, pulling my hand onto the flat of her stomach. She’s got abs now. Damn. Desire flickers to life inside me, ramping up from the low-level hum, but I force it back down. I can’t fucking break her, not now, when she’s got a busted ankle. The best thing for everyone is to rest.

And it feels good.

I can admit it, here. Things in the city move at a fast pace. The office is always ticking along. Mergers. Deals. The endless handshaking that I do, because I’m not really on the ground, not really doing all the dirty work. I stopped doing that a long time ago, on Gideon’s advice. That’s not what the boss does, he’d said. But he didn’t say that it doesn’t matter what you decide to stop doing. The pressure is still there. To release it, I go to parties at the clubs, tear the city apart through the night. Looking. I’ve been looking.

For what?

For Reggie.

It’s obvious. It’s clear as day. But the thought buzzes through my brain like an electric fence. Touching it right now would be dangerous, with all the electricity between us. I don’t want to start a fucking fire.

I just want to stay here, like this, for as long as I can.

The rhythm of her breath is like waves lapping on the shore of the lake. Rocking, rocking, lapping against the side of my boat. The boat that I left out there. That damn boat is probably still rocking there without me. I wouldn’t be surprised.

I start to drift off, just a little, the warmth of her heavy beside me, yet so, so light.