Sophie

I want to know you, Sophie. Kade’s words play in my head, over and over again.

How long has it been since I’ve let anyone truly see me? How long since I let my heart feel anything but pain or paralysis? I’d chosen the latter recently, because being numb is easier than feeling, especially when feeling means remembering.

Noah, Noah, Noah.

Would I ever be able to share that broken, empty part of myself with anyone? That’s what Kade is asking for. All of me. Even the part that belongs to him.  

Is Kade worth it? Worth ripping open the wound and displaying the shattered pieces of my heart?

Yes, my soul cries. Yes, yes, yes.

It’s late by the time Kade and I close the bar and head up to my apartment.

All night. he stole small touches, a brush of a hand against my arm, my thigh, small whispers against the shell of my ear.

By the time we’re finally by ourselves, my body is coiled tight, a mix of nerves and desire.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Kade says, brushing his knuckles over my cheek.

“I don’t have anything here except water and juice.”

He chuckles. “You obviously haven’t checked the pantry.” Opening the door, he crouches low and reaches to the back, behind the mop and pail. He pulls out a bottle of Patron.

“Tequila?” I ask, scrunching my nose up.

“One of Quinn’s favorites.” He pours two small glasses, handing me one. “She lived here before she married Zee.”

I knew that. She also told me Kade and Zee lived here originally, before Zee took off to play guitar for AutoCorrect.

Sniffing the clear liquid, I hesitate before taking a small sip. I cough. “Oh God.”

“Easier to drink it all at once.” He drains his easily.

I do the same, feeling the burn down my throat, and the instant heat to my core.

He takes my glass and sets it aside, then wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him.

It’s natural.

Intimate.

Possessive.

I’m going to lose myself to this man. In a way, I already have.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” I ask, uncertainty winning over the insane attraction I feel whenever he touches me.

He tilts his head. “Why don’t you tell me what you think we’re doing, then I’ll tell you if I’m sure.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t have a clue.”

“Good.” He smiles. “Because I don’t know, either. I just know I can’t stop thinking about you. Haven’t been able to get you out of my head since that first night.”

“Me either,” I admit on a shaky breath.

He says softly, “I was surprised when I woke up and you were gone. I almost thought I’d dreamed the whole night.”

There’s no accusation in his words, but I still feel like I owe him an explanation.

“I wasn’t running from you. I’m sorry if it seemed that way.”

“But you were running.” His jaw tenses and bunches.

“I left everything behind that night,” I admit.

“Everything?”

“My job...my...memories. I needed a new start.”

Confusion swirls in his dark eyes. “Because of what happened between us?”

“No.” I pull back, but he doesn’t let me go. “Maybe. But not because I regretted it. I didn’t. I don’t. I just...”

He cups my chin, his gaze studying me. “What?”

“I guess I realized that I hadn’t been living. That I never would if I didn’t get away.”

“Away from what?” He’s pushing, harder than I’d like, and I can feel my walls crumbling.

My heart beats hard, exposed. It whimpers one word, Noah.

“Away from what, Sophie?”

I swallow hard.

He inhales, a line forming between his brows. “That guy you were with in the parking lot that night. Who is he to you? You said he wasn’t your boyfriend—”

“He wasn’t. But...” Brutal honest truth time. “We were married.”

“Married?” His brows raise as he leans back, a frown tugging at his lips as he studies me.

“I was seventeen, and...stupid. When I got pregnant—” Tears burn my eyes like they always do whenever I think about him. I blink them away. “I could use another drink.”

His lips thin as he pours me another glass, and I take it with trembling fingers.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me. And I can almost hear the accusations. That I’d left a man who loved me, a child...but that’s his story, not mine.

I gulp back the shot, and he takes the glass from me.

Silence.

Only our harsh breaths between us fill the seconds that pass.

“You have a kid?” I hear the uncertainty in his voice, see the suspicion that narrows his eyes.

“A...son,” I choke out.

Memories tug at me, but I’m able to push them away, anchored in this moment. To him. To Kade. I don’t know why I feel so grounded around him, and yet it’s like I’m flying at the same time. It’s a dizzying feeling.

Even now, when I’m about to admit my deepest heartache, I feel...safe. And that’s something I haven’t felt in a very long time.  

“What’s his name?” he asks slowly.

“No—” I swallow hard. “His name was Noah.”

Was. That one word screams between us. And I see the moment understanding fills his expression, before it quickly turns to empathy.

“Shit, Sophie.” His nostrils flare before he pulls me to him, so damn tight against him.

Strength. Warmth. I want to fall into it. Let it consume the darkness.

But there’s more. And I want to tell him. Part of me needs to.

“He...he was two...” Pain. It cuts and breaks and tears until I’m consumed by it. Pulled deep into the memory.

Waves crash.

Little giggles fill the air.

Seagulls squawk.

Fingers and toes covered in sand.

Happiness.

Joy.

It had been a perfect day.

I can see his little blond head racing away from the soft waves, giggling as the water comes onto the shore and laps around his little ankles.

He’d loved the beach.

“Sophie, look at me.” Kade cups my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze, bringing me back to the here and now. “You don’t have to do this right now.”

I do. I need to get it out. Need to talk about him. It’s been so long since I’ve even said his name.

Noah.

He never went into the water alone. It’s an excuse. I know it. He should have had a lifejacket on and not just the inflatable arm floats that he could easily take off.  

And I shouldn’t have let him out of my reach.

Noah, Noah, Noah. Guilt strangles me.

Charlie wasn’t supposed to be there. I’d filed for divorce months before.

I looked away.

It wasn’t his weekend with him. And I could tell he’d been drinking. We were arguing.

I want to tell Kade all these things, but the words stick in my throat.

Charlie wanted to take Noah. When I refused, he started screaming at me, grabbing me. And I looked away.

No tears. I’m just numb. Empty.

Noah had been at my side, playing in the sand. But then...he wasn’t. I don’t know how long he was under the water. Someone was screaming. A stranger, some teenager, pulled him out. And he wasn’t breathing.

Noah, Noah, Noah.

All I can mutter is, “He died.”

There were days, weeks, after it happened that are still gone from my memory. The last thing I remember is someone dragging me out of the hospital room. Charlie shaking me, screaming that Noah was gone. That I’d let him drown. That I’d killed our son.

“Sophie,” Kade murmurs against my hair.

Strength envelopes me, and I melt into him. It’s been so damn long since I’ve allowed anyone to hold me up.

There’s so much more. So much I don’t have the strength to tell him right now.

That it was my fault.

That I’d looked away.

That, in my despair, I must have tried to end the pain, because I’d woken up weeks later, bound to a steel bed, an IV line pumping fluids into me.

That in Charlie’s own grief, or his need for retaliation, he’d stolen every memory I had of Noah. Pictures, mementos. He’d broken into my apartment, smashed my phone, the one with the videos of our son’s first steps, first words.

And he didn’t stop there. His creativity for revenge was unlimited. The worst part about it was my own weakness, my need to still have him in my life, his eyes, the same color as Noah’s. The only reminder of what I’d lost.

“Give me what I want, and I’ll give it back to you.” He held his memories, the keepsakes, over me. Even our son’s ashes were kept in some hidden location.

All I had to do was submit to him, and I could have them. Have Noah back.

In some of my darker moments, I had been tempted to accept his offer.  

“I’m really tired,” I say against Kade’s chest.

His body is tense, but the way his arms wrap around me, I know he doesn’t want to let me go. And I don’t want him to. With him, I feel again. And not just pain, something else, something freeing.

My fingers curl in his shirt. “Stay with me.”

He pulls back and looks down at me. “You’re sure?”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Good. Because I wasn't planning on leaving.” He takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom, then starts undressing me slowly.

He leaves my bra and underwear on, then finds an oversized t-shirt in one of the drawers and helps me into it. When he crawls into bed beside me, he’s still wearing his boxers.

I’m pulled into his arms, strength and warmth surrounding me.

“He’s the one you wrote those songs for,” Kade says into the darkness.

He’d listened to my lyrics.  

“It’s the only way I can express myself. But words...they aren’t enough.” I’d always loved to sing, and to write songs, but after Noah, it became my only solace.

“No. They aren’t. Not when it comes to grief.” His lips press against my temple. “Thank you for telling me about him. About Noah.”

My heart twists, but it’s not the usual ache. It’s lighter. It’s been a long time since anyone said his name. Like they were afraid to bring him up. But it only made it worse, because in a way it was like he never existed except inside of me.

Silence surrounds us, but I know Kade isn’t sleeping. His fingers entwine with mine, and he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.

“I’ll never get over losing him. But...” I turn in Kade’s arms so that I can see him. The kitchen light is still on, casting a faint glow through the doorway, eliminating his handsome face.

He brushes his knuckles across my cheek. “But, what?”

God, what this man does to me.

“I want more than just feeling like I’m floating in a void of nothingness,” I say honestly, imitating his gesture and running my fingers over his jaw, his scruff rough against my fingertips. “When I met you, it was like there was gravity again.”

“Gravity?” One side of his mouth twitches.

“You have this big presence.” I give a small shake of my head, because I barely understand it. “When I’m around you, I feel like I’m being pulled back into life again. I know that probably sounds silly.”

“No. Not at all. It sounds right.”

He kisses me softly.

Gentle.

Tender.

And there’s the tug, the pull, the weight. It’s heavy yet freeing at the same time.

“Make love to me,” I whisper against his lips.

He doesn’t hesitate, his mouth is immediately on mine, the twist of lust curling through me, mixed with emotions I know I shouldn’t feel, but can’t control.

His hands roam under my t-shirt, up my thigh, across my hip, before capturing one of my breasts.

Every touch, every kiss, is achingly slow, and sweet. So different than the first two times, which had been driven by something almost primal. As his hands roam across my body, it feels like something more. Something I’ve never truly experienced. Something that my heart wants to believe is love.

Don’t be foolish, Sophie, my brain warns. He’s going to break your heart. And this time, you won’t survive.

I know it’s the truth, but I can’t help the small flicker of hope that catches with the flame of lust. We’ve both lost, and survived. Maybe this is our second chance.

Doubt presses at the back of my skull, but I push it away, clinging to the moment, to Kade.

“So damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he lifts my t-shirt over my head, unclasping my bra. He’s already removed his boxers, and I can feel the hard length of his erection against my thigh. He slides my thong over my hips, moving between my legs, spreading my thighs wider with his knee.

He holds himself above me, his dark eyes studying me, his cock nudging at my entrance. But he hesitates.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my hands resting on his abs.

He gives a small shake of his head. “I just...haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

I breathe out a shaky breath. “It’s scary.”

“Terrifying,” he admits.

“Do you...” I chew on my bottom lip before asking, “Do you want to stop?”

“Hell no.” He cups my jaw, holding his weight above me on one arm. “Do you?”

I shake my head. “No matter how this ends, I want to enjoy every minute I can.”

That makes him frown, and I’m not sure why.

“I need you inside of me,” I say, the words full of the ache I feel in my core.

His lips press against mine again and he groans against my mouth. “God, Sophie.”

He sinks into me, stretching, filling, completing me. And I know right here, right now, this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Our broken, tattered hearts batter against each other, our ragged breaths mixing.

My fingers dig into his hips as he begins to move, and I want to hold on to him forever, and never let go.

That energy, the one that seemed to connect our spirits the first night we met, kindles and flames between us. The intensity grows, this time somehow different, somehow more.

His eyes never leave mine as he pulls back, then sinks into me again.

Sweet heat fills me.  

There’s a protectiveness to the way he looks at me, and it knocks something loose inside me.

“Kade,” I whimper, our emotions thick between us.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says against my lips, every inch of our bodies seeming to meld together like we’re one flesh.

My hips lift to meet his, taking everything he gives me in this moment, because I’ve learned one thing; you never know how many moments you’ll get.

He consumes me, his mouth everywhere, his thrusts increasing, his own moans growing ragged. And I whimper and beg until we’re a tangle of limbs and pleasure-filled noises. And when my orgasm rips through my body, I feel his own pleasure rock against the back of my womb, so intense that he lets out a guttural cry that fills the room.

I know that even though I’m somehow lost with this man, I feel like I’m finally found. And Kade was right. It isn’t just scary, it’s terrifying.