The weekend went by so fast I barely had time to think, let alone sleep. We flew into Florida, practiced our asses off and sweated our asses off since it was so damn humid, and then proceeded to destroy the opposing team. We went out and celebrated at a brand new nightclub that wanted us there—specifically me—but I bailed after an hour. I had no interest in drinking, and definitely no interest in meeting any women.

Overall, the weekend was good. Only thing missing was Amanda.

It’s Monday and I’m home now. Arrived only an hour ago and I’m already itching to see her. It’s barely four in the afternoon, so she’s still working.

As proud as I am of her career success, I can admit to myself I resent the hell out of her job. When I want to do something with her, treat her by taking her somewhere special with me, her job is the roadblock that reminds me of what we could’ve had if she’d just stuck by my side.

I know without a doubt we’d still be together if she hadn’t broken up with me. We’d probably even be married by now.

But would I have been a total jerk and not let her pursue a career? I can provide her with anything she wants, but would I have convinced her not to work, just so I could have her all to myself?

That’s kind of an asshole move. And though I used to be a complete and total asshole when I was younger, I like to think I’m not that same guy anymore.

Unable to stand it any longer, I finally hop in my SUV and head for her workplace. The drive should’ve only taken me twenty minutes but ended up being almost an hour. Lots of stop and go traffic on the freeway that tested my patience.

I have none right now. None whatsoever.

I’m dying to see her.

Finally, I pull into the parking lot right at five o’clock, and I spot her immediately. She’s waving at her friend as they part ways, her steps determined as she starts heading for the bus stop that’s located right in front of the wellness center. She’s got on the red polo and black pants outfit again, and her hair is pulled back into a simple braid, little wisps of dark hair catching the breeze as she walks. When she draws closer, I roll down my window and call out her name.

She comes to a sudden stop, her eyes widening when she spots me. Without hesitation, she jogs toward the car, her eyes sparkling, her smile huge.

“Hi.” She sounds breathless, and unable to help myself, I lean my head out the window, brush her mouth with mine. “What are you doing here?”

“Get in,” I tell her, ignoring her question. She can’t figure out why I’m here? I want to see her.

I want her.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Get in and I’ll show you,” I practically growl. Having her so close is making me impatient. We’re wasting time with idle chitchat when we could already be in my car and halfway pulled out of the parking lot by now.

“So bossy,” she murmurs just before she rounds the car and slips into the passenger side of my Range Rover. The door slams and her scent fills the confines of my car, making me feel a little drunk.

Without thought I reach for her just as she leans in my direction, like she’s expecting me. I curl my hand around her nape and pull her mouth to mine. Her soft lips part easily and I delve my tongue inside, my dick instantly hard. It doesn’t take much for Amanda to arouse me.

It never really has.

She breaks the kiss first, even more breathless now. “We’re making out in the parking lot of my work.”

“Is that a bad thing?” I touch her cheek, stroke her jaw. Her skin is soft. Silky. Her lips are plump, a little red from our kiss.

So I kiss her again.

“A very bad thing,” she says after she pulls away from me. “I already feel like I’m on their shit list for asking about taking vacation time at such short notice.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She worries about a lot of things, and I wish she didn’t. I’m probably overstepping my boundaries, but I want her to know that since she’s with me, she has nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of her every need.

If she’ll let me.

“I’m just glad they approved my vacation request,” she says.

“Me too.” I relinquish my hold on her and she settles in her seat, smiling over at me as she puts on her seat belt. “Ready to go?” I ask her.

“Yes, please. Get me out of here before you start kissing me again.” She’s teasing. I can tell by the smile on her face. How her dark eyes are sparkling.

Smiling in return, I put the car in reverse and back out of the space, then make my way toward the exit. “If you’re lucky, I’ll be doing a lot more than kissing you later.”

She goes quiet for a moment, finally speaking up when I pull onto the freeway. “I thought we were going to take this slow.”

I can’t believe she wants to. Seriously, what’s the point? We were together before, and it was good. Great, actually. Until she gave up, and I let her.

Well, I’m not going to let her any longer. What we had before was worth fighting for. What we potentially have now—I can’t give up. I can’t let it go.

And I definitely don’t want to move slow.

“We’ve been together before,” I start, and she’s already talking.

“Exactly, so we should learn from our mistakes,” she points out.

“We were young,” I counter, shooting her a quick look. She’s watching me, an incredulous expression on her face. Like she can’t believe we’re having this conversation right now. Guess that makes two of us, because I can’t believe it either. “We didn’t know what we had until we didn’t have it any longer.”

“Do you really believe that?” Her voice is quiet, and I swear she sounds surprised.

“I do.” I want to punch the steering wheel in frustration. This is the last place I want to talk about this. We should be having it at my house. Or hers. Alone, face to face, sharing our secret feelings.

Instead, I’m driving in rush hour traffic, barely able to look at her.

“Are you trying to say that ours was the most meaningful relationship you’ve ever had?” Her voice squeaks on the last word.

“Yes. It was. I’ve always had a thing for you, Mandy. You know this.”

“A thing? Like what? A crush when you were twelve? Thirteen? That’s different than an adult relationship, you know. I had a crush on you too. A meaningless one at first, because I truly believed there was no way you’d be interested in me. In fact, I knew you wouldn’t be interested in me, because you were you and I was…me.” She ends her ramble with a sigh.

“Yet I was interested. I was always interested.” From the moment I started to notice girls, I noticed Amanda first. Seventh grade science class is where my crush turned into full-fledged yearning.

There’s no other word for it. I yearned for that girl like some sort of sap in those awful romantic comedy movies. When you’re thirteen, that shit is embarrassing. When you’re eighteen, that shit drives you to make the girl of your dreams the girl of your reality.

I had my moments. I wasn’t perfect. I did some stupid stuff that I regret. But once Amanda and I were committed, I was all in. I firmly believed we were it for each other. I didn’t want anyone else.

Just Amanda.

I may have had other women since we broke up, but she’s always haunted my thoughts. I’ve only had one other serious relationship besides Amanda, and that one went nowhere. I cared about Mia, but I realized after we split that I wasn’t in love with her.

I wasn’t obsessed with her, like I am with Amanda.

“And you’re still interested,” Amanda says, pulling me from my thoughts.

“More like obsessed,” I mutter, immediately wishing I could take the words back.

But fuck it. If I can’t be my authentic self with this girl, then I have no chance of being authentic ever.