Unfinished.

Nik looked around the third floor of the house, the bare bones of the master suite, as his fingers hovered over his electric piano. Everything is his life was unfinished.

The music sprawled out in front of him was definitely unfinished. Elliott had come back from treatment with lyrics that had blown them all wide open. When he’d presented them to the group, they’d been left speechless, and even now reading them as he composed music, they left Nik feeling raw. Somehow, Nik had the sinking feeling that the music he was writing would dishonor Elliott’s words.

His house was unfinished. Only six weeks into a five-month reno, he knew there was a long way to go, and while he was loving the process of helping rebuild his home from the studs up, he couldn’t explain how unsettled he felt sitting there alone.

And he hadn’t finished reading the love letters from Wilfred to Avaline.

He reached for the bundle that he’d been compelled to bring with him from the first floor and untied the ribbon. They were in chronological order, he noted, and he could imagine Avaline carefully adding each new letter to the bundle as she received and read it. He’d read the first three, so he gently pulled the fourth letter from its envelope.

My dearest Avaline,

I have realized that in my darkest moments, all I need do is close my eyes and remember happier times. I remember the smell of your apple pie as it bakes, and the whisper of the corn fields right before harvest. I think of the chill of the first snowflake of winter and the hope that comes from seeing the first snowdrop in spring. I remember the pride I felt when I first put on this uniform, and the way your eyes lit up the day you saw me in it. And I remember the day I saw you walk toward me on our wedding day, the way your hair glowed in the late afternoon sunshine, the way your eyes met mine with such love and adoration I felt unworthy. It is very caddish of me to mention, but I also noticed you had new stockings, which was a very inappropriate but deliciously naughty thing to wonder over as we said our vows.

I say all this because despite your attempts at optimism in your last letter, I felt a sadness, one I would carry for you if I could. Fall back in love with your life, Avaline. Find the joy in being a nurse, reclaim the brightness that shone from you on our wedding day. If I do not come home, you must live so joyfully enough for both of us.

You should know that I will haunt you, if you do not.

With Fondness,

Wilfred

“Fall back in love with your life.”

It seemed so simple, and yet impossible. Had he ever been in love with his?

The thought ripped something deep within his chest. He’d been in love with Jenny. Hell, he’d probably never stopped loving her. But himself? His life?

He felt alive when he stepped on stage, of course, and there was no greater feeling than performing with his brothers. But was that love?

Lost in thought, he placed the letter on top of the piano and then fiddled with some settings. He started with a simple melody based on Joy Division’s classic “Love Will Tear Us Apart.” Every lyric of that song was perfect for his mood. A lament about routine, ambition, and resentment. And about how timing could be so flawed. His worst fear was that every miserable failing would be exposed. Using his Mac, he synced a dance beat to it but began to deconstruct the melody. His own lyrics began to run through his head. Not Elliott’s words or his controlled guitar, or Dred’s fiery lyrics, or Jordan’s bass. But something uniquely his own.

As he played around with words, he thought about Wilfred’s comments. He thought about how hard his father’s life had been before his sudden death. Time didn’t always heal everything, but it sure as fuck brought perspective. As a child, he’d thought of his father as a strict disciplinarian and an unhappy man. Learning about intergenerational trauma, the legacy from his family’s time in residential schools, had helped Nik understand some of his father’s behaviors. And Nik found himself wondering what his father had loved. Had he loved Nik’s mother? He couldn’t remember.

And what had his mother loved?

Her son.

The thought stopped his fingers on the keys.

His mom had loved him.

In the purest sense of the word. Without strings. In a way that had caused her to lie down over him when he’d been knocked to the ground and take every stab wound that had been meant for him. Rage flowed through him as he thought about the way her eyes had gone wide, her mouth opened into an O. The sound of that god-awful blade passing through her skin like a skinning knife through salmon. Nik stood and kicked his piano, sending the Mac, the piano, and the letters flying across the room.

“Fuck!”

He ran his fingers through his hair and tugged it near the scalp.

For his entire life, he’d been trying to get to the mysterious “there.” That place where he would have enough, would be successful enough, happy enough, loved enough. And yet here he was, in a home that he owned, with every luxury at his disposal, and a pit in his stomach the size of Lake Ontario. And nothing he did, no amount of success or money or fame, was going to fill it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to check who was. His heart rate began to slow as soon as he saw the name. She was the only one who had that kind of effect on him. The only one who could calm the turbulent storm that roiled inside, even if the rest of the world only saw the swan above the water.

Jenny.

He opened the text, praying that she wasn’t going to cancel. Their date was the only thing stopping him from sinking into a really dark spiral.

Heels or flats?

Those three words made him smile. It was odd . . . for a girl who would pretty much do anything and go anywhere, that she’d always needed to know what shoes to wear.

I’m driving. No hiking. Whichever makes you most comfortable.

Could you be any vaguer?

He was being vague because he didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Trust me, wear what you want.

See you in an hour?

He thought about Wilfred’s letter again and suddenly felt childish that he’d kicked his piano over and had very likely killed his laptop. He picked both up, and was relieved to see that the screen wasn’t cracked, although only time would tell whether he had done internal damage. Then he bent over and picked up the letters. What was it he had said about Avaline’s stockings? Quickly he typed his response.

It’s probably inappropriate to say, but I’ve always thought your legs look great in either.

The embarrassed emoji she sent back made him smile.

Nik hurried through his shower, and, once dry, he pulled on a dark navy shirt, rolling the sleeves up over his forearms. He knew how much she liked that look on him. He reached for the beaded necklace that had belonged to his father that sat on his dresser and slipped it over his neck. Every time he wore it, he thought of his grandmother hand-beading it. When he was finished dressing, he grabbed the stuff he needed, locked up his house, and headed to his car.

The growl of his Jaguar F-type roared through him. It was a sound he loved, and again he found himself thinking about Wilfred’s letter. Was life really the sum of a million small memories, as opposed to what you had to show for it? He pulled up outside Jenny’s and was surprised to find her standing there. He had always been the first one out of bed, the one who put on the coffee and handed her a cup when she wandered out of the bedroom half asleep. She had been the one who hit the snooze button six times in a row, the one who was ten minutes late no matter what time you told her to be ready. Instead, there she stood, waiting for him.

He pulled into the parking space slowly because he needed a moment to take her in before he actually had to put into words exactly what it was she did to him. Despite the cold weather, she wore a beautiful burgundy dress that skimmed her frame perfectly, emphasizing her narrow waist and curvaceous hips. It brushed just above her knees, and the black heels she wore revealed toned calves that told him she worked out more now than she used to. The black leather jacket she wore was open, but the way she crossed her arms beneath her breasts—which, holy fuck, pushed them up and together—told him she was cold. That, he could do something about.

He pulled up and, leaving the engine running, stepped out of the car and walked over to her, wrapping her in his arms. Damn. He’d always been a sucker for her in plum lipstick. Especially when her lips were wrapped around his cock. “You look spectacular,” he said, unable to resist brushing her lips.

“You clean up pretty nicely too,” she said. “I have no idea whether I am overdressed or not, given that you gave me nothing to go off.”

Nik smiled. “Believe me, there will be nobody judging you and nobody to compare yourself to.” He knew that for a fact because he’d arranged for it to be that way. “Let’s get you into the car where it’s warm, and it will only take us fifteen minutes.”

For fifteen years, he’d had reasonable control of his dick. But for some reason, just the smallest glimpse of her thigh as she lowered herself to her seat had him readjusting himself as he closed the door. Thank God they were going to have some privacy where they were headed.

“So, where are we going?” she asked as he drove them across the Don Valley Parkway, heading east on the Danforth.

“For a walk down memory lane,” he said as they passed the Danforth Music Hall, where they had played as a practice venue before they’d gone off on the tour that had driven Jenny and him apart.

When he parked outside of Petrino, Jenny turned to look at him. “For real?” she asked with a grin.

“For real. I want you to myself tonight. I didn’t want to share any part of either of us with anybody else. Ready for some Greek food?”

Jenny looked out of the window. “You realize this is the last place we ate together?” she said quietly, glancing up at the windows of the apartment they’d once shared.

He did. It was the reason they were there. “Seeing that it was the last place we were together, it made sense to me that this is the place we begin to pick up the pieces.”

Without turning to face him, she reached for his hand and he took it. “Thank you,” she said. Yet before he could respond, she pulled the door open and stepped out of the car.

* * *

For the briefest moment, she was twenty years old again, and the man at her side was still the love of her life. So often they had jogged down the steps from the apartment to the restaurant below to grab takeout, but occasionally they’d sat down at what she’d always thought of as their table.

And now she was back, and so was he. The dissonance she’d felt when she’d first seen him with Albi was fading. Despite her reluctance, they were falling back in step. Nik reached ahead of her to pull the door open, and she dipped under his arm in a move that was so familiar it made her heart ache.

Cristos, the retired owner, appeared out of nowhere as he’d always done. “When Denes told me who had hired the restaurant for tonight, I had to come and see it for myself. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me.”

Jenny reached out her arms and hugged him. “How have you been, Cristos?”

“I am so much better for seeing the two of you,” he said, reaching around her to shake Nik’s hand. “Please, come sit. I’ll have Denes bring out some tapenade and tirokafteri to get you started while you decide what you would like to eat and drink.”

Once they were seated, Cristos hurried off to the kitchen.

Jenny looked around and for the first time noticed they were completely alone. “It only just hit me, what Cristos said about someone hiring the restaurant. Did you arrange for there to be nobody else here?”

Nik reached across the table and took her hand. “Are you going to be mad at me if I say yes?” His grin was contagious.

How could she be when he’d done something so thoughtful? “No,” she said. “As long as you don’t let me drink too much ouzo.”

Nik’s smile dropped a little.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Remember when I told you that I went full tilt, enjoying everything that I’d been deprived of when I was younger?”

“I do,” she said. Something about his tone worried her, and she rubbed her thumb across his fingers.

“I don’t drink anymore. Everything got out of hand. My spending, my drinking. So, I stopped. You are more than welcome to have as much ouzo as you want, and it will be my privilege to get you home in one piece, and I will also promise to be a complete gentleman when I put you to bed. But you’ll be drinking alone.”

He held her stare as she processed his words. “Water will be fine for me. I have a feeling that keeping my wits about me around you might be a good thing.”

“Smart move,” he answered, his stare becoming heated.

Jenny looked down at the menu that Cristos had placed in front of her. “They changed out those sticky purple menus, but the choices still look the same.”

“Why mess with perfection?” Nik asked, but he held her gaze as he said it. God, how would she ever be able to guard her heart when he looked at her like that? “Let me guess, piperies kaftes gemistes? I never really got why you loved those hot peppers.”

“Why mess with perfection?” she said, laughing as she repeated his words to him. “And some of those fried and baked zucchini things.”

“Kolokithakia tiganita. And some tiger shrimp?”

“Yes,” Jenny said, slamming her menu down on the table. “The garides rodou.”

“We can decide the rest later, but that’s a good start.”

Cristos brought them the tapenade and the spiced feta and took their order, returning only to pour their water. He disappeared into the kitchen again.

Jenny took a bite of the Kalamata olive tapenade that she knew Nik wouldn’t touch. “Oh my God,” she groaned. “This is just as good as I remembered.”

Nik scooped some of the feta onto his fork. “I should come here more often,” he responded before he slipped his fork into his mouth.

She tried to ignore the way his lips opened, or the way his tongue met his fork. Damn him for even making eating look sexy. “So, what is going on in your life right now?” she asked, trying to take her mind off how good he looked sitting opposite her, his long dark hair flowing over his shoulders the way she loved it.

“Well, I have rehearsals for the Canadian leg of the tour. We finished a three-month European tour at the start of September and needed a break. Now we’re just ramping up to the Canadian leg, but we’re a bit fed up with the set, so we’re trying to mix a couple of things up, switch out some songs, see if we can’t find a new way to engage the audience.”

Her heart pounded at the mention of the one thing that had come between them.

If they were going to move on from what happened, she couldn’t be terrified every time he mentioned touring. “I’m proud of you, Nik. I mean, this is what you always wanted. To play these huge arenas. To be a household name. Preload has done incredibly well.”

Nik took her hand across the table. “Thank you, but it’s such a double-edged sword. We’ve gained a lot, but we’ve all sacrificed a lot. I mean, this”—he waved his hand around the restaurant—“this isn’t normal. But there is no way I could have come to eat here on a Sunday night and hoped to be left alone. And then there’s the individual spotlight.”

Jenny took a bite of the feta as she listened, the spicy cheese delicious. “I have to be honest. For the last five years, I’ve tried to not pay too much attention to what you’ve done because . . . well, it was just too . . .” She shook her head. There was no value to keep bringing their conversations back to that moment. “Explain it to me.”

He took a sip of water. “Here’s what I’m grappling with right now. CBC wants me to do this genealogy show about my ancestry. Which sounds cool, right? National TV, et cetera. But shit. You know my life. You know what happened. And I don’t get to control the dialogue. I mean, they could try to show the positive, show how, despite obstacles, I’ve pushed through. Or they could be total jerk-offs and turn me into a victim. And I get that I created some of that, but the average twenty-two-year-old fucks up and the worst that happens is one of their friends posts it on Snapchat. I’ve fucked up a thousand times over on a national stage. But I’d do it all over again because of the amazing career I’ve had.” He sighed. “So even talking about it smacks of first-world problems, right?”

When the story of Nik’s cheating had broken, she’d been able to hide. Ottawa had been the perfect place to disappear into the crowd, but Nik had had nowhere to go. While she had little sympathy for the circumstances, she understood what it must have felt like to not be able to escape the media. “I honestly don’t understand what that must feel like. I mean, I guess I do a little. When the news first broke, some local press tried to come around and get my story. It’s part of the reason I moved out. I can’t imagine what it feels like living like that permanently.”

“I feel like there’s one big thing and a million little things that I need to say sorry for . . .”

Jenny placed the knife and piece of bread down on her plate. His words of the last week came back to her. About the two of them, about what they’d been, about what they could be if they could get over the past. “I think we’re going to trip ourselves up if we keep going back to that place, yet everything seems to stem from there. I think I agree with you, that we can get to a better place eventually, but perhaps, for now, we could try to not just focus on the bad. Perhaps try accepting what happened for what it was.”

Nik ran his hand through his hair. “Which was me being an idiot.”

“I’m not going to argue with that,” she said. “So, tell me what you are thinking about the TV show.”

With a sigh, Nik reached for more feta. “I’ve never really felt it was my job to educate. And after all the ways I have fucked up, I’m in no position to be anybody’s role model. I’m also no expert. So, the idea of going on a TV show to trace my ancestry and to talk about it articulately leaves me half angry and half terrified. I mean, what context are the genealogists and whoever else does all the tracing back going to have for my ancestry when I can’t confirm or deny what they are saying?”

She took a sip of water and thought about the questions she’d ask herself. “What scares you most about doing it?”

“Looking like an idiot is an obvious one. And not being enough—not Cayuga enough to meet the show’s expectations, and not white enough to meet the viewers’. They are going to tell me shit I don’t know, and probably should know, and never bothered to learn because once I entered that group home, I knew I was on my own. It didn’t matter where I came from. The only thing that mattered was how I survived from there on out.”

Jenny reached his hand. “Do you really believe that? That you’re not enough.”

Nik leaned back in his seat and placed his hand over the back of the chair next to him. “Do I really believe that?” He spoke as if trying on the question for size. “Do I really believe that?” he mumbled.

Cristos coughed discreetly. He put a large tray down on an adjoining table. “I have your food order, and if you would like to order more, just let me know.”

He placed the dishes on the table and left them to it.

“You asked a good question,” Nikan said, helping himself to the shrimp. “If I do the show, I think everybody will have expectations of the outcome, and of me. I mean, for all the prime minister’s good intentions, he hasn’t really followed through on solving any of the problems faced by First Nations Peoples, or Inuit or Métis either. The education and healthcare gap is still huge on versus off reserve. And there’s a total lack of understanding and empathy for the challenges First Nations people face because most people can’t be bothered to understand the trauma caused by the residential schools, for example. Nobody wants to learn what happened there. I mean, sure, I could explain that my grandmother was locked in a closet for hours at a time when she was caught speaking her own language, and how that left her very bitter . . . and how that bitterness filled every part of her life afterward, making her home a difficult place for my father to grow up in, but does anybody really care? If I go on the show and make a big deal about how my grandfather lost his hearing from being slapped across his ear, repeatedly, I’ll likely be dismissed by the mainly white audience as just another member of the First Nations banging on about things we should just get over. If I don’t bring it up, if I don’t articulate it correctly, or if I try to claim it is my own experience—which it isn’t—I’ll be taken to task for not representing.”

She could see the challenge he faced. “Which is the greater concern? That a show about this isn’t the right thing to do? Or that you might not manage it correctly if you do it?”

“Both, I guess.”

“You know, one of the things I always ask the kids in my care to do when they have a decision to make is to just make a classic pros-and-cons list. Two columns. Just start throwing your thoughts into a list like that, and I’m sure it will become apparent pretty quickly to you which way you feel most strongly.” She took a bite of the food, and it was just as good as always.

“What do you think I should do, Jenny?” Nik asked, his eyes focused on hers.

“Only you can answer that question, Nik. But I’m more than willing to be a sounding board for you while you play it out and perhaps ask questions that might help you think about it differently. The only person that can choose in the end, though, is you.”

Nik looked at her, really studied her as he placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hands. “You know, you look incredibly sexy when you’re being smart.”

Jenny blushed. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Stop,” he said. “I’m the one sitting on this side of the table, and I’m the one on the receiving end of your advice. Believe me, Jenny. You’ve grown up into an incredible woman. You made it work on your own terms. You finished school. You have the job you always set out to do, the job you were always meant to do. And eight years looks deliciously good on you. So, trust me. Sexy and smart are the perfect combination.”

* * *

“Your home is going to be incredible,” Jenny said as she turned in a circle in the large hallway.

He hated the way she said “your.” Like she didn’t realize he wanted it to be “theirs.” Like the thought was so foreign that she didn’t even consider it while he stood there in awe of the way she looked standing there. In what he hoped would become “their” home.

Every now and then he was reminded that they were still at opposite ends of the spectrum—he was ready to dive in and she still couldn’t trust him. But every time they spent time together, like now, he had another chance to prove to her that he could be trusted again.

Nik had deliberately kept the conversation light for the rest of dinner. He’d loved listening to Jenny’s stories from Ottawa. Like how many times she’d fallen the first time she’d skated on the frozen Rideau Canal. Or how she would have driven back to Ottawa that very night if she could just to get her hands on a beaver tail. When she’d gone to the restroom, he’d added a note to his phone to try to get a box of the fried dough pastries shipped to her.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d said she was sexy and smart. She was the perfect blend of Maisey and Ellen when it came to the kids in her care. While she’d never given away specific details of the children’s cases, she’d shared some of the problems she’d had to work through and how she’d drawn on her own experiences in the system. When he’d touched on her father, she’d told him very little and quickly moved on from what was obviously a sore point.

Somewhere along the way, she’d become a competent and capable woman. One who didn’t need him, but one he hoped would want him.

“Come on,” he said, leading her up the two flights of stairs. “We might as well start at the top and work our way down.” Plus, the top floor was all her. All the ideas she used to talk about on rainy Sunday afternoons as they’d lain in bed after making love. He’d listened. Her dreams had become his because he couldn’t even begin to design a home of his own, having never really had one. She’d described her ideas so clearly that when he’d met with the architect to work on his house, the only ideas that he had even considered were hers.

“Holy crap, Nik,” she said when they reached the top. “Is this all a master suite?” she asked, taking in the newly plastered walls.

He wondered if she could see past the miter saw and stack of two-by-fours and the plastic sheets to her vision.

Nik nodded and placed his hand on the small of her back. “Over on that side of the hallway are a sitting room, walk-in closets, and a small office.” He could picture her seated at the slim white desk that was going to face out over the rooftops of neighboring homes. “But you’re going to want to see this,” he said, leading her to the bathroom.

Jenny stepped inside, and he leaned against the doorframe. There was no flooring, but the giant tub was in place. The showers were missing the doors, but there were two of them, just like she’d always imagined. She ran her fingers over the glass wall, along the edge of the tub, along the counter of the sinks. He saw her shoulders lift and sag before she turned to look at him. “Everything is just like we . . . like we always talked about.”

Nik nodded and smiled. “All of this was designed well in advance of seeing you, but when I sat down with the architect to figure out exactly what it was I wanted, yours was the only vision I could come up with.”

She looked down at the floor, which was currently covered in a giant plastic sheet. “Underfloor heating?” she asked.

“Obviously.” He grinned. It was one of the things they’d agreed on. Hardwood and tiled floors in winter in Canada were miserable.

“Tile?”

“Imported natural slate. The kind that turns black when you get it wet.”

“It’s going to be beautiful, Nik,” she said quietly.

He walked over toward her and placed his hands on either said of her face. “Would it freak you out if I told you that every day I worked up here, even before I knew you were back in Toronto, I imagined what it would be like if you lived here too? One day I was standing at the top of the stairs, and I swear to the Creator that I could see you running up them toward me. I’d imagine you soaking in the tub with a million and one candles like you always said you would one day. Or I would imagine the two of us getting ready for our day, talking to one another as we showered.”

“Nik,” she whispered and leaned into the palm of his hand. Her eyes shone with tears.

“I’m building our house for us, and I don’t even know if you’ll ever move in. But like the house, we’ve had to strip back what we were to the bones of it, and now we get to decide what we want to do with that foundation.”

Jenny swallowed hard.

It felt monumental, her standing here, with him, in the luxurious room they’d talked about so often while living with nothing. But their imaginations, and their hope for something better, had led them to design this. Surely she could see what they could be, what they were capable of amongst the mess he’d created. Hopefully she could remember they were capable of imagining the life they wanted and going out to get it. Fuck, they’d managed to do that on their own. Imagine what they could be together.

But it had to be her move.

And then it all happened in slow motion. She lifted to her toes.

He didn’t blink, didn’t want to miss a fraction of a second.

Her eyes never left his as she slid her hands around his waist and pressed her lips to his. He could taste the tiramisu she’d had for dessert mingling with the sweet taste of her. And it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Nik slid one hand to the back of her neck. The other he ran down her spine, familiarizing himself with the shape of her until his hand came to rest on her ass that was high, and firm, and perfect for him to grip onto when she was underneath him.

He let himself sink into the kiss. There was no timeline, no agenda, no need to speed things along. It was perfect, and he wanted nothing more than for the moment last. He pulled her close and swallowed the moan as she allowed one hand to sink beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Nik trailed a line of kisses along her jaw and down her neck, savoring the sweet scent of jasmine, which was new, and the softness of her skin, which wasn’t. There was so much they needed to relearn. It was an opportunity to get to know each other all over again. To see how tastes had changed, to see how preferences had grown. But at the base of it would be this, the feelings they had for each other.

“Jenny,” he murmured against her skin. He felt her hands before he realized what she was doing. First, one button of his shirt, then the next and the next until she tugged it out of his jeans.

He stood up tall and let her look at him. He’d changed too. He wondered what she thought of the body that he worked hard to maintain, or whether she would like his tattoos. He wondered what she would think when she found out that they told the story of them.

Her eyes ate him up, and he could feel himself getting hard under the weight of her stare.

“What do you need, babe?” he asked, his voice rough. “You can have anything you want.” And he meant it. She could have anything she wanted from him.

“I need you, Nik,” she said, looking up at him. “Nothing else.”

“Come with me,” he said. “One day there will be a huge bed right there that I’ll devour you on.” He pointed to the area that would become the bedroom and took her hand. “But for now . . .” Nik led her down the stairs, trying to stop the frantic racing of his heart. She was here, in his home, and he was about to get to hold her, touch her, bury himself deep inside her, and he could barely keep his shit together.

Silently, he let them into the apartment he’d been living in. It suddenly didn’t seem enough compared to the luxury she deserved. “It needs some work,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as they walked through the living room, where his ultramodern gray sofa clashed with the jade green walls. He placed a hand on her back and led her to his bedroom. The walls were a faded yellow, but the king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets was all his.

“Nik,” Jenny said, placing her hand on his cheek. “The first time you made love to me, it was on a second-hand rug in a rented apartment, and it was the most perfect thing ever. The place doesn’t matter. It never has. It’s always been about us, the sum of us together. What we make. That’s all that matters. Remind me what it was like between us, Nik.”

At her words, he lost the feelings of doubt and slid his hands around her back. Tugging on the zipper, he slowly opened her dress and nudged the sleeves off her shoulders.

She wiggled her arms out and let the dress slither to the floor.

Fuck. Scraps of black lace designed to drive him wild. And heels that he both loved and couldn’t wait to remove. “You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he said, allowing his hands to slide up her ribs and cup her breasts, kneading them as Jenny’s head rolled back on a gasp. He took the opportunity to skim his lips along her neck.

Jenny’s hands slid inside his opened shirt. She ran the tips of her fingers over his abs in a move that both tickled and turned his dick to granite. But he wasn’t going to be rushed, not tonight. There would be time for fast later. Now was the chance to savor, to relearn every curve of her body, to let her do whatever she wanted to his.

When she began to open his belt, Nik took a deep breath. The most basic urge to be inside her battled with his need to love her thoroughly. When she undid his jeans, his cock doubled down, demanding release. He kicked off his shoes and removed the rest of his clothes, every part of him naked and available to her.

He slipped his arms around her and unclasped her bra. He kissed his way along her shoulder, nudging the strap down her arm so she could let it drop to the floor. Nik jumped when she placed her hands on his abs and placed her forehead to his chest.

“I want this, but I’m scared, Nik. Of what this means,” she whispered.

His heart squeezed at her words, and he wrapped his arms around her, loving the way her skin felt against his. “Talk to me,” he said.

“You said in the restaurant you were worried you weren’t enough. Well, standing here with you like this, I worry that I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t once, and there have been models and actresses and I’m the latest in a line of—”

“Don’t,” he said quietly while leading her to sit on the edge of the bed. The reason there had been so many was because none had stuck. None had been her, no matter how hard he’d tried to find her in somebody else.

He knelt between her thighs because being on his knees as he poured his heart out to her seemed the most appropriate place to be. “Look at me, Jenny,” he said firmly and waited until her eyes met his. He’d give everything he had to take away the uncertainty he saw there. “I can’t take back what I’ve done, the way I’ve behaved, or erase my track record. But know this. I couldn’t replace you no matter how fucking hard I tried. I get that I don’t even really deserve you being here right now. I get that this might be more than we can handle. I get that there is a chance that we won’t figure this out. But you need to know that it isn’t you who wasn’t enough. It was me. It’s always been me. Because you are my everything, Jenny.”

He sat back on his heels and ran his hands along her thighs, massaging the tense muscles beneath his fingers. As it had been since the first time they’d kissed, he needed her consent before he took it a step farther, no matter how badly his dick throbbed.

Jenny broke his stare and looked over her shoulder at his bed. Her indecision was tangible, and he’d give anything to know what was going on in her head. Then she leaned forward and slipped the shoe off one foot, then the other, before shifting back on the bed.

“Kiss me, Nik,” she said gently. “Remind me.”

And as he lowered himself to the bed, he thanked the Creator for bringing her back to him so he could do exactly that.

* * *

Nik’s lip crashed into hers with a force she wasn’t expecting. He wasn’t kissing her, he was devouring her, and she wasn’t certain that she be able to survive it. And even if she somehow could physically match him, could physically be enough, she knew her heart would struggle to make it through.

She threaded her hands through his hair and held him close as he lowered himself over her, settling between her legs, one hand on her cheek, the other gripping her butt. Too shy back then to tell him, Jenny wasn’t certain that Nik knew just how much she liked it when he pinned her to the bed. His erection was pressed up against her, and it would be impossible for him to miss just how turned on and wet she already was for him despite her reservations.

“Jenny,” Nik gasped, his lips still against hers. His eyes wide open and focused on her. “You feel so good, every inch of you. You want to be reminded just how good we were together? Then feel this. Feel how hard I am for you, listen to how breathless you make me, know that no matter how long tonight lasts, you own me.” He pressed himself into the very sweet spot between her thighs, and she arched her back in response. “Tell me you want me to make love to you. Tell me you want this, Jenny, because I want you more than I want my next breath.”

She looked down between the two of them and saw the glistening head of his erection sliding against her underwear. God, how long had it been since she’d been this turned on? Nik followed her gaze and then looked straight into her eyes.

“Please, Nik.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and planted a trail of kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and all the way to her breasts, which felt heavy and tender beneath his hands. She watched breathlessly as he licked and then blew across her nipple.

“Did I ever tell you just how much I love how responsive your breasts are?” He sucked her nipple into his mouth, the heat shocking after the cool air. Tenderly, she cradled his head against her, urging him to take her further, to do more. When he switched sides, she arched her back, and Nik grinned before continuing the trail of soft kisses across her stomach and hip. He nibbled the crease of her thigh before he placed one of her legs over his shoulder and then he breathed deeply, his eyes fluttering closed. “I missed the feel of you. I missed the smell of you. The taste of you,” he said, as if in prayer. He opened his eyes and slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties. Teasingly, he dragged them slowly down her legs. With his gaze fixed on her, he ran his tongue along the length of her. Desperately, she moved against him, needing more pressure, more . . . something . . . anything that could help her chase the orgasm she felt building inside.

“It feels so good, Nik,” she gasped. “I need . . .”

Gently, Nik slid a finger inside her. “Damn, babe, I love how wet you are. Tell me. Tell me what you need.” He added his tongue, circling her clit before sucking on her gently.

“Oh God. I’m so close.” Inhibitions went out of the window as she moved against him. Nik added a second finger and sped up his strokes as he hit her in all the right places. She threw her head back against the pillow. He teased her clit as he thrust in and out of her, and her world exploded, stars appearing as she closed her eyes and let the ripples flood through her.

Nik slowed his strokes, bringing her down to earth just like the leaves they’d seen in Central Park, drifting slowly. Finally, he licked his fingers clean, and crawled his way back up her body as she tried to regain some sense of composure. When he kissed her, she could taste herself on his lips, something that had always turned her, and him, on. “I’d forgotten how incredible it is when you come,” he murmured. “The way you give in to it with every single part of you.”

She opened her eyes and studied him. “I want to see you come too,” she said, reaching for him. His erection was hot and heavy in her hand. Nik had been the largest man she’d ever slept with, and she craved the sensation of being filled so completely.

Nik knelt, his knees on either side of her hips, and rocked into her palms. The tip glistened, and she fought the urge to change position and suck him. There would be time for that, but she wanted him inside her. Using her thumb, she spread the wetness across his head, and Nik groaned, leaning his head back. With his muscles tight, his abs flexing as he moved, he looked like a model.

“You want to see me come, or feel me come right now? Because you keep doing that, it’s going to happen sooner than you think,” he said, then removed her hand only to pull it to his lips and kiss the back of it. He reached over to the bedside table and pulled out a box of condoms. “You know, when I bought these today, I felt like I was eighteen again. Buying them in preparation, but not overly hopeful I’d get to use them.” He ripped the plastic cover off and pulled one out.

Despite the intensity of the moment, Jenny laughed, and he grinned too. She’d needed the moment of levity more than he did, because if she hadn’t smiled right then, she might’ve given into the burn, the tingle that told her she was close to tears. Jenny watched Nik roll the condom on with ease before he gently settled back between her legs and kissed her softly. “I know it’s way too early for big pronouncements,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face so that he could place a kiss at the corner of each of her eyes, “but this—you, here, with me—it’s too important and too special to not let you know just how much you mean to me.” He slid a hand between the two of them, and she felt him brush himself along her opening. “This is everything,” he said as he slipped inside her.

Jenny gasped at the way he stretched her. It felt so unbearably good, and it wasn’t just her body that was open for him. As he pulled out of her, her heart opened for him too. It was impossible to separate the physical and emotional feelings, which had been the reason that one-night stands simply didn’t work for her. Her body without her heart left her feeling uncertain. But both together in a moment like this was bliss.

“Jenny,” Nik groaned as he pressed back inside her. “You feel so tight around me, babe.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and closed her eyes, savoring the way he sank even deeper. It was tight, the pressure stretching her wide but filling her more completely than any other man had ever done.

Nik paused deep inside her and held her still. “Look at me,” he commanded and she did, even though she knew the move would cost her the last shred of hold she had on her emotions. “Do you remember this?” he asked, pulling out and sliding back in slowly. “Do you remember where this leads? Because fuck, my body does.” He sped up the pace a little, gasped for breath. “It’s so fucking new and perfect.”

Jenny reached for the back of his neck and pulled him down to her mouth. Words weren’t within reach to explain exactly how she felt, so instead she opted for actions. As Nik’s thrusts sped up, as her body began to shake in preparation for what came next, she looked for the quiet and kissed him slowly, with every ounce of longing she’d felt in the years since they’d last been together. Perhaps she could show him a little of what it had felt like.

But Nik had been right about one thing. It also felt new, and fresh, and absent of the heaviness she’d felt when she’d first seen him.

Her stomach muscles began to clench, but Nik never took his eyes of her. Adoration shone from them, and it was impossible to do anything other than accept what he was giving her.

“Oh, yes, Nik. Just there, please,” she gasped.

Nik slid his hand between the two of them and began to circle her clit as his thrusts became more primal, less controlled. He slammed against her and she gripped a handful of the comforter. “Like. This?” he gasped.

“Just like that,” she managed to say as the world went bright, and her head spun. “Nik, I’m coming,” she cried out as the delicious explosion began at her very core.

She hadn’t thought it possible, but Nik thrust into her even faster, driving her past the point of recovery and straight into a second orgasm as he began to shake in her arms. “Jenny,” he yelled. And the sound of her name on his lips as he came did more to fix the holes in her heart than anything else had so far.

He flopped down on top of her, his head pressed into the pillow by the crook of her neck. Both breathed deeply.

As exertion gave way to exhaustion, Nik withdrew from her, a feeling she’d always hated because of how it left her feeling empty, not just physically. He removed the condom, tied it up, and dropped it to the floor before crawling back to her.

She had no idea what time it was, but it had been nine thirty at least when they’d left the restaurant. For a moment, she let herself drift in a daydream that she didn’t have work in the morning, and that this was their home, that they were in this together like they’d always discussed.

Nik lay down on his back, and pulled her to him until she was settled, her head on his shoulder and his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Words didn’t seem all that necessary. His fingers stroked up and down her back, pausing periodically to explore her lower back, the curve of her butt. When she felt her eyes begin to drift shut, she shook her head and tried to sit up before Nik pulled her back to him. “Where do you think you’re going?” he mumbled, half asleep.

“I should go. I have work in the morning and I—”

“What time?” Nik asked, turning to face her. His eyes were hooded with sleep, but he ran his hand along her side, over her hip.

“Well, I have to be there by seven thirty, but I don’t think it’s a good idea if I stay.”

Nik kissed her softly. “I think it’s the best fucking idea in the history of the world for you to stay. Don’t run out on us, Jenny. Not yet.”

Reality crept in. “There’s still so much to fix, Nik. Nothing miraculously got better just because we slept together.”

Nik pulled her to him. “I know, but this is a start. Just stay with me. I promise I’ll get you there in the morning in plenty of time, with a shower and clothes and everything.” He pouted playfully, like he’d always used to when he wanted her to do something for him.

She laughed and shook her head. “Fine, but we’ll need to be up and moving around six.”

Strong hands cupped her butt. “What kind of up and moving did you have in mind?” Nik asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “This kind?” He pressed against her to show her he was hard again.

“Good night, Nik,” she said, turning her back on him as she grinned.

“Goodnight, babe.”