Colin, present day

---

Cecilia made the most adorable sounds when she slept—soft mewls as she cuddled closer, gentle sighs that tickled the side of his throat.

She was as beautiful up close as from a distance and though they’d stayed up late into the night, waiting on the aurora borealis and then finally seeing that distinct glimmer of green light up the dark sky, Colin hadn’t allowed himself to sleep.

He was waiting for the other shoe to fall.

He was waiting for Cecilia to see sense.

He needed for her to be more attached to him before it happened. He needed her to love him.

As he’d never stopped loving her.

She yawned and turned in the circle of his arms, stretching and pressing her ass back against his crotch. He tried to shift slightly, so she didn’t rub against the giant problem threatening to burst free of the underwear he’d slipped on before they’d settled into bed, but he didn’t move quickly enough.

Lights flashed behind his lids, and he hissed out a breath as those luscious curves slid against his cock.

“Fuck,” he muttered, placing a hand on CeCe’s hip to stay her motions.

“Mmm,” she murmured, slipping free and sliding closer.

And, he might as well be honest, it felt so fucking good that he didn’t try very hard to keep her away.

“CeCe, baby,” he began, but groaned when the soft cushion of her ass tucked right against his erection. Fuck, but she felt good against him.

“Mmm,” she murmured again and then went ramrod stiff.

Shit. Colin tensed, preparing to haul his ass out into the cold.

She opened her eyes, those green irises startlingly clear. One hand reached up to cup his cheek. “I thought it was a dream,” she said softly.

“Not a dream.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Did you know your eyes are the same color as the northern lights?”

One half of her mouth curved. “Really?”

He kissed that curve. “Aye.”

She shuddered and he smirked. “Still not playing fair, are you?”

“When it comes to you?” he asked, not giving her a chance to reply. “Never.” Another kiss. “I’ll never play fair when it comes to winning you back, sweetheart. Letting you go was the biggest mistake—mistakes—of my life.”

She smiled and it lit up the room. Or maybe that was his heart. “I like it when you don’t play fair.”

Then that smile faltered and the brightness faded. He tried to figure out the underlying meaning of her words, why they’d hurt her so much.

“You—” he began.

But he didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence because then Cecilia’s mouth was on his and her hand was on his cock and . . . his head was spinning.

He pulled back. “Wait, baby. What—”

She sat up, tearing off the robe she’d fallen asleep in, and fuck but she was more gorgeous than ever. “Do you want me, Colin? Because I need you to make me feel good. I need you to make me forget that we were only together the once. I need you to help me forget what came after.”

“I don’t think that—” He shook his head. “We need to talk, we shouldn’t just bury—”

“Then just get the fuck out!” she screamed. “Because you’re going to leave anyway, and then I’ll be broken again and I can’t. I can’t.” She shoved off the bed, snatching the robe and trying to wrestle it on as she ran.

Which didn’t go well.

Colin saw her start to go down before she realized what was happening, saw the tie of the robe tangled around her ankles as she started to sprint down the hall.

He moved, not thinking, not trying to process the words nor the frustration he felt for not knowing what the fuck was going on.

“Ah!” CeCe stumbled and went down in a jumble of limbs.

But he was there.

He caught her.

As he should have done all those years ago.

He righted her, tugged the robe over her shoulders and tied it snugly around her waist.

She wouldn’t look at him, but he didn’t need to see her eyes to know they were shimmering with tears.

“Right, then,” he said, as he should have in the past. “We’re not leaving here until we both have said all there is to say. No more secrets. No more hidden pain. We both need to understand exactly what happened.”

She started to shake her head, but he placed both hands on her shoulders. “No, sweetheart. We’ve run long enough. Now is the time for the truth.” He sucked in a breath when she finally looked at him and the force of her hurt socked him the gut. “The full truth.”

“I’m not sure I can.”

He squeezed lightly and led her back to the bed, tucking her beneath the warm blankets. “If we want to have a chance at moving forward, we need to.” He brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “So I guess the question is, do you want to move forward with me . . . with us?”

She sucked in a breath, her eyes closing for so long that his gut twisted into knots, and then those knots twisted into more knots.

“Yes.” His gaze flew to hers, and he saw the fire in her expression, the determination and his pulse slowed, those knots untangled.

“Good,” he said, trying to sound casual but no doubt failing horribly at it. “Now is this a tea or a whiskey conversation?”

She grinned and then laughed when they both answered at the same time, “Whiskey. Definitely whiskey.”