“You can’t beat yourself up over that. Not your dad, but your mom. Each of them tried to pit you against the other.”
Bexley finally moved toward me and ran her hand down my arm. Her fingers ghosted over mine, and I grabbed hold of them before she could pull away. My grip might have been tighter than necessary, but the fear of her slipping out of my grasp attacked my heart.
“Look, I know he did us dirty, but back then, he held the keys to everything I wanted. Thought I wanted. Money, prestige, power. I’d been raised to think that’s what made life worth living, but I was wrong. And when he took you away from me, it was a loss like I’d never felt, a sacrifice I shouldn’t have had to make. Or you.”
A small tear formed in the corner of her eye. I waited for it to fall, but it floated on a precipice—like the current status of my life.
“I can’t go over all of it again. It hurt like hell then, and it still hurts now,” she said, sniffing back more tears. “I tried my best to move on, and that’s all I could do.”
“I know, but I hate that it happened. That I allowed it to happen at all. And to think I did this to you. My dad took you from me and me from you, and with the way he was, I thought you were better off. It’s no defense. Believe me.”
My heart and head pounded in synchronicity from the stress of dredging this all up. The fact I was here . . . with Bexley. It was all too much.
“I can’t. I said I can’t. Let’s not talk about it anymore,” she begged.
She moved back toward the couch and sat down, dropping her head in her hands. Her separation was an immediate shock to my system.
“I want a chance to make it right.” I knelt at her feet, my jeans cutting into the back of my knees, and I welcomed the pain. “Look at me. Please.”
This time, her tears fell heavy and hard. “Why now? I can’t believe this. What are you doing here? Now, of all times?”
“You can believe it. I’m here.” I brought a thumb to each cheek and wiped the wetness away.
“You’re probably going to go to prison. Then what? We’ll have our second chance with me visiting you behind bars? Oh, that’s so romantic, Aston.”
With my hands on either side of her head, I laughed. “I’m not going to go to prison, because I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Bex. I fucked up with us, but I’m not a criminal. I would never do what they’re saying. Although, I don’t think it’s going to be a cakewalk proving it. Good thing I’ve kept my own counsel over the last few years.”
“How can you sound so confident? I’ve spent the last two days poring over articles and information. Crying and obsessing and more crying.” She leaned back. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m admitting to that.”
“Sitting in front of you, I have to believe it. This is the best I’ve felt in fourteen years.”
“Don’t, Aston. Just don’t. I told you, we can’t play games. You have kids, and so do I. We have responsibilities and grown-up lives and a whole lifetime of baggage between us, and it’s not right. We can’t do it.”
I’m getting to her.
“I’m not playing any games,” I said. “This is what I’ve wanted for a long time. Cass was never right for me, and she knew it. More importantly, I knew it. My feelings for you haunted our relationship, and before you interrupt, I know it wasn’t fair. I tried. We had kids, bought a house, went to Orlando, drove the Amalfi coast, scheduled date nights, did all the shit we—you and I—should’ve done, and it was never enough. It didn’t work because she wasn’t you.”
My heart came back to life with each word leaving my mouth.
The truth will set me free.
Bexley looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “I’ve spent every day since you left me wondering what we could’ve been like. I wanted you like a foolish schoolgirl. Do you understand that? I wasted the last fourteen years wishing for you, Aston! That’s the cold, hard truth. Seth was a poor replacement, a nice guy who wanted a wife and a family, and I took the position. Then I ruined him. Destroyed him. I filled an opening and fell short doing the easiest job ever. It was a role I couldn’t play because I was too hung up on you.”
There was no answer, no right response to Bexley’s honesty, so what did I do?
I leaned in and kissed the woman I’d waited a long fucking time to kiss again. When my lips touched hers, I was twenty-one all over again, hormones raging, my pants biting into me, and it felt fucking great.
I was soft at first, taking her lips in a gentle kiss, saying with my body what I couldn’t verbalize. Then I was on my knees, wedged in between her curvy, muscular thighs, and I kept her close.
She could have pulled back if she really wanted to, but she didn’t. Instead, she moaned into my mouth, and I swallowed her ecstasy like medicine for the soul. Becoming unglued, I threw all my tenderness out the fucking door and pushed her back on the couch. Lifting myself over her, I ground my hips into her, my tongue seeking immediate entry into her mouth.
With my weight braced on one elbow, I slid my free hand through her hair. Pulling her head back and exposing her neck, I ran my tongue over her creamy flesh, goose bumps rising in my wake.
“Slow,” she murmured. “We have to slow down, Aston. This is crazy.”
But her pelvis continued to lift to meet mine, seeking friction, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. My hand stilled her hip.
“Okay, Bex, but you’ve got to stop that grinding. I’m going
