Her breath hitched.
“It's okay. I—He had this amazing outlook on life. It was contagious. He didn't let his weight keep him down or from making friends. We started working out together.”
David's other hand hooked over her hip. “Where is he now?”
Sabrina closed her eyes to keep the tears back. Would there ever be a day when she thought about Ethan and didn't cry?
“He's a fool to let you go.”
David's quiet assurance almost broke her composure, what she had left of it anyway. Talk about a mood killer. A crying woman had to be at the top of the list.
But some aches never fully healed. In so many ways, Ethan had been her soul mate. Not in a romantic way, but in a spiritual one. He'd been exactly what she'd needed at the lowest point in her life.
He'd saved her life.
And she hadn't been able to save his.
“It was never like that between us.” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “He passed away during our junior year. Cancer.”
There was a shocked gasp, a long moment where the world seemed to stop, and then he wrapped her in the strongest, most comforting embrace she'd ever felt.
And that's when she lost it.
Sobs tore through her chest and for a moment, the agony of losing such a dear friend felt brand new. The rawness stole her breath. Made her throat hurt as she choked back a breath.
“I'm sorry,” David murmured as he rubbed her back.
Sabrina cried for Ethan, but she cried for David too. For their friendship. For the years that had gone by and for not being a good friend. She wept because she knew how incredibly lucky she was to have had two wonderful men in her life.
One lost to a terrible disease.
The other to something almost as heinous.
“I'm sorry.” She pulled back a fraction and fought for composure. “This was not at all how I imagined this going.”
She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. All the while, David, sweet David, held her close, supported and comforted her.
Why had she not fought for him?
“How did you imagine this going?” His voice was warm and mischievous.
She laughed.
God bless him. She laughed.
Maybe, just maybe, she hadn't fully healed like she'd thought she had. Maybe she was, and David was, in exactly the place and time they were supposed to be.
Sabrina tipped her head back and stared up at the boy-turned-gorgeous-man who'd hiked through swamps with her as a child.
“I didn't expect to cry all over you.”
“You look beautiful, even with tear stained cheeks.”
She laughed and wiped away another tear. “You're so sweet.”
A strange look flashed across his face and he took a slow step backward.
“What's wrong?” She grabbed his hand, not ready to let him get away. Truth be told, she wasn't ready to let the connection sever. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“I'm not sweet—”
“Dav—”
He squeezed her hand and his gaze softened. A glimmer of a smile clung to his lips. Then he looked away, a long, long way away, it seemed. “I'm...”
He took a deep breath and then he met her gaze again.
“I'm a lotta things, Sabrina. But I haven't been sweet in a really, really long time.”
Sabrina felt the air shift around them. She'd rehearsed what she'd say if she ever got to see her childhood friend again. How hurt she'd been in school, by the mean girls, how depressed she'd been after he'd moved to the other side of town.
But this was so much deeper, so much rawer and the stakes felt so much higher.
Heck, she didn't know if she'd ever see him again, but she knew she wanted to. And she knew, deep down with the kind of certainty life experience gives you, that she'd do anything to have him in her life.
Whatever was happening between them, wherever this incredible attraction was leading, she was open to it. Open, ready, excited.
Standing in front of him, her hand trapped in his much larger one, she felt feminine and delicate. High on her own power, she stepped toe to toe with him and tugged at his shirt again.
“You don't fool me, David Jameson. I've known you since you were five years old and you told me to hold out my hand. I fully expected a grasshopper or a spider or even a salamander.”
He seemed transfixed by the memory.
“You handed me a flower. You were sweet then, and despite whatever you've done, you're being sweet now.”
She slid her hand up his chest, around his neck, and pulled him down to kiss his cheek. But before she could lose herself, she stepped away and turned toward the bathroom door.
“I'll just be a minute.”
David stared at the closed bathroom door, excitement and apprehension tumbling through him. Sabrina Duncan.
Little Sabrina Duncan was in his rig.
The water turned on, filling the silence.
Fifteen years. She was more beautiful than ever. Intoxicating even.
What the hell was he doing? He should go pour himself a cup of coffee and sit his ass on the couch.
That's what he should do.
But his libido was having none of it. She was under his skin. In his head.
If they kept this up, she'd be in his pants soon. And then he’d be in hers. He honestly didn’t know if he could resist her if she touched him like that, skin on skin.
He pulled his hands down his face and turned away.
There was no use trying to lie to himself, to brush this off as some quick, meaningless encounter. He didn't care much for those. Female company wasn't terribly high on his list of priorities.
But this woman...
He wanted her more than he had fifteen years ago and given what teenaged hormones were...
The truth was, she made him feel... incredible.
It'd been so damn long since he'd felt in awe of anything. Somewhere in the last half decade, he'd resigned himself to putting in the hours. Doing the work, coming home, and getting up to do it all again.
He started for the coffee pot when
