scaring her back to him. I knew what she’d told me—he was what she knew, and she always went back—one wrong step and she could jump in her car and drive right back to him and that would be it for us.
Pain twisted my stomach at the thought of seeing her drive away again. I couldn’t bear it. I just wasn’t sure if she was feeling it too and if she was ready to take this step with me. I’d already stuck my fucking foot in my mouth when I'd asked her to move in with me. Thankfully, it had worked out and I hadn’t scared her off, but I’d seen the indecision in her eyes.
I always wondered if, when things got too real, she thought of him.
I also wondered how much he was contacting her. The phone calls didn’t seem to be so often now that we’d picked up her stuff, but once in a while, I still saw her look down with a frown marring her stunning features. I was trying my best not to lose her trust, but every fucking time I saw her phone sitting somewhere, I wanted to snatch it and go through her calls, check her texts to see what he was saying.
I breathed deeper, emotion choking my throat and causing my heart to beat overtime. I thrust in and out; her tight body took me in. Letting me fill her was so overwhelming that I thought I might lose my mind. She’d done me in with her words.
And she was mine.
I captured her lips in a rough kiss as I tried to tell her without words just how much she owned me. Her walls started to quiver around me and I lost it. She clawed my back as another orgasm tore through her body. I pumped and growled into her mouth, my lips refusing to detach from hers as I released everything I had into her. Suddenly, Gavin and Drew’s announcement crossed my brain and I wanted to plant my seed in Georgia. I wanted to have a piece of me inside of her, something that connected us forever. Something that we could share.
I swallowed the lump that had lodged in my throat at the thought of Georgia, hugely pregnant with my baby, walking barefoot on the beach. She took my fucking breath away, just like she always did.
“Fuck,” I moaned. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but forced myself to wait.
14
The cold air bit at my cheeks as I hustled from my car to Tristan's house—our house. It was still hard for me to get used to the fact that we were living together. The moving truck had come this morning and delivered the rest of my items from Kyle's apartment—mainly my beloved antique bedroom set that had been my parents.
I’d just come in from running errands and tossed my bag on the counter before searching out my sexy boyfriend. I found him in his office, laptop open, legs spread wide as he relaxed in his chair. He was talking to Gavin on speakerphone when I plopped myself in his lap and curled around his body. I shivered from the leftover chill from the February air.
I smacked a kiss on his lips as he rubbed his open palm up and down my back, while he and Gavin talked about an account that needed special attention. Something about security and encryption and more gibberish that flew straight over my head. Tristan snaked his fingertips under my sweater and dug his fingers into my hip, tickling me in a spot where he knew I was helpless. I whipped around on a giggle and grabbed his wrist. His sculpted lips turned down in a sexy pout.
“Hey, Georgia,” Gavin greeted me over the line.
“Hey, Gav. How’s Drew?”
“Bitching and moaning about pregnancy, but beautiful as ever.”
“Aww.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “Such a fucking sap.”
“Hey, man, you just wait. Most beautiful fucking thing ever to see Drew carrying my kid. Takes my breath away every time I see her.” I heard Drew “aw” in the background before small kissing noises filtered through the phone speaker.
“Jesus,” Tristan groaned.
“Hey, Tristan,” Drew chirped. “Georgia, call me later, okay?”
“Yep.” I grinned as I pecked Tristan on the lips.
“Hey, man. Back to the account, before we were so rudely interrupted.” Tristan goosed me on the ass. I winked at him before slipping the mail off his desk and rifling through it as I made my way out the door. I sped through the electric and heating bills, something from the marina to do with Tristan’s boat, and then my eyes landed on
Exactly sixteen years.
My mind went blank as I warred with myself about opening it. I wanted to throw it away, burn it, and never see it again.
I dropped the rest of the mail on the floor and tore the envelope open, letting the ripped paper flutter to the floor. I unfolded the letter and read the first line before skimming the rest of the paragraph. I licked my lips as the letter danced to the floor, landing at my feet.
I turned and my eyes caught Tristan’s. His beautiful green irises stared back at me, concern etched across his face. I licked my lips nervously. I felt like my body would crumble.
I couldn't hold myself up.
I was falling.
Free falling back where I’d been sixteen years ago.
Pain cracked open my chest and my heart thudded hard and fast, so fast I thought I might have a heart attack. I blinked back tears and tried to take deep breaths. Tristan said something before hanging up the phone and shooting out of his chair toward me. I couldn’t hear a fucking thing. My heart roared in my ears. The roar of the waves outside the house was deafening.
My legs gave out just as Tristan reached me, his arms wrapping around my waist as we crumpled in a mess of limbs on the floor. I laid my head across his shoulder and inhaled his soothing, fresh scent. The now familiar smell of him brought tears to my eyes. I was thankful that he was here and with me. Thankful I had someone to soothe me.
He rubbed calming caresses across my back and begged me to tell him what was wrong. Finally, he gave up and his eyes darted to the letter I’d torn open on the floor. He snagged it and perused the sentences quickly.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered as he began sliding his palms all over my back, soothing me, shushing in my ear, rubbing my neck with deft fingers.
It was all coming back. A rewind of sixteen years. Except now, I had Tristan. Kyle was absent and in his place was Tristan.
I felt my stomach roll with sickness. I lurched from the floor and lunged for the toilet in the bathroom. I emptied the contents of my stomach and spent equal time sobbing and hyperventilating. My past was replaying just when I’d thought I’d finally embraced my future.
“You don’t have to do it, you know.” Tristan lifted me into his lap from my place on the couch.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled, eyes trained on the television in front of us, not seeing the show flashing on the screen. Another crime drama that Tristan was obsessed with. I looked, yet didn’t watch at all.
I’d been telling him all night that I didn’t want to talk about it. He’d stayed silent, we’d stayed silent, and on the rare occasion he’d mentioned it, even in passing, I'd had the same answer.
