Her chest heaved between them as he came closer into her personal space. “Y-you are. I think.”
“You want me to stop?” He leaned in, the force of his bright blue eyes pressing her back against the fridge as he let his hands rest on her hips. “Say the word and I will.”
She should say it. Should tell him it had been a mistake then, and would be a mistake now. She didn’t love him. Couldn’t love him. Couldn’t love anyone since she didn’t have enough of a heart left to love with.
But that was what made it so tempting. He didn’t love her either. It was just comfort.
Trace had walked away from her. Mia had rejected him. They’d found a way to ease the pain. Together.
She’d felt like hell afterwards. Like she’d cheated on Trace. Or betrayed herself somehow.
But with him this close, she couldn’t think straight.
She closed her eyes and she still saw it. The source of her pain. Trace and Gretchen Gibson holding hands as they entered a rehab facility in Dallas. Hugging in a hotel doorway in Georgia. Arms wrapped around each other in a parking lot at a bar in Charlotte, where he’d supposedly come to see her. They’d been blurry photos online and in the tabloids, but the images in her mind were crystal clear. Even nine months later.
She licked her lips, knowing Steven could make them go away, even if it was just for a little while. “Same deal as before?”
“If that’s what you want.”
She sucked in a lungful of air. He smelled so damn good. Sharp and sweet all at once. Cologne and beer. A hint of men’s soap and sugary icing from her birthday cake. “I want—”
She was interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. Well that was frustrating. She smiled at the irritated look on Steven’s face. “Wonder which one of them forgot something?”
“I’m kicking their ass, whoever it is.”
She snorted out a laugh as they both headed for the door. “It might be Lulu, and when she threatens to junk-punch you, she’s completely serious.”
Steven chuckled as they reached the door. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
It was kind of nice being with him. Easy. “Consider yourself warned,” she told him with a grin.
But when she opened the door with him close behind her, the smile dropped straight off her face.
Her world began to pitch hard left and then right as she completely lost her center of gravity. A bright bouquet of peachy pink roses, held by the last person on Earth she had expected to see at her door, greeted her.
Emotions she’d held back for so long slammed into her with the driving force of a runaway freight train. “W-what are you doing here?”
His hair was slightly longer. What had once been stubble was a full-grown beard. But it was him. If she’d thought his hazel eyes had been stormy before, they were currently a tsunami of colors swirling and threatening to drown her that very second.
“Just thought I’d drop by to wish you a happy birthday, Kylie Lou.” Pain leaked out into his words and was evident on his face.
“Corbin,” Steven said evenly from behind her.
Oh sweet Jesus. She’d completely forgotten Steven was there, even though he was so close his chest was touching her back.
“Blythe,” Trace said just as evenly. He jerked his chin upward almost imperceptibly. His greeting was slightly deeper and laced with something she couldn’t name. Anger, maybe. Whatever it was, he’d managed to make Steven’s own name sound like a threat.
“Anyways, I just wanted to stop by and give you these. I’ll let you get back to…whatever you were doing.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and even under the beard, she saw it.
It was taking all of her concentration to breathe normally and remain standing. Her hand shook visibly as she took the flowers he held.
“Thank you. I didn’t realize you were—”
“Out,” he finished for her, making it sound like he’d busted out of prison. “Yeah. I am. Have a good night.” His gaze lingered on her briefly before he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.
And just like before, he took what was left of her heart with him.
3 months later
“PLEASE SAY you’ll come tonight, Kylie. It’ll be fun. And if anyone needs to have a little fun, it’s you.”
“Gee, thanks.” She would’ve rolled her eyes but Jean Claude was prying them open to apply another pound of mascara.
“I’m serious. It’s been nearly a year. It’s time.” Mia stepped to the side where Jean Claude wasn’t. “Come on, Oklahoma. Steven and Chris have been asking us to do something with them forever. It’s just a club. We’ll have a few drinks, and hell, maybe we’ll go crazy and do some dancing.”