Page 36 of Passing Notes
“I think I do. I want to try, at least.”
The lake was deserted. I drove my truck down to the edge and cut the engine, thankful for my all-wheel drive.
Her reflection in the window blended into the starlight dancing across the surface of the water. Somehow it was easier to see her that way, as if this were a dream I’d found myself inside of again, rather than a decade and a half of subconscious yearning suddenly come to life right next to me.
The safety of the illusion disappeared when she turned to face me fully. “I want you to kiss me. Right here in this spot, just like we used to do.”
Her words plunged me out of the dream and into the deep end. I reached out a shaking hand to sift it through the soft flaxen hair flowing over her shoulder. “We can’t relive the past,” I murmured. “You know that right?”
“I know. I just want to feel it again.”
“Feel what?” I whispered, desperate to know what was on her mind.
She closed her eyes. “Safe.”
My heart shattered in my chest as I realized I would do anything for her. Whatever it took to make her feel happy, secure, loved, safe...
Was this my mission now? Was I risking my emotional safety for hers?
“Clara—”
“Please, Nick, one last time so I never forget what it felt like to have what I wanted.”
“You’re breaking my heart right now. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“I’m not that drunk anymore, and who says I’m not the one taking advantage of you? Maybe I want a piece of the past I can hold on to. Maybe I want closure. Or maybe I have no idea what I want and I’m a selfish bitch for bringing you out here.” Tears glistened on her pale, moonlit face. I never was very good at saying no to her.
My heart turned over in my chest as I wiped her cheeks with my thumbs and drew her closer. Her eyelids fluttered as she dropped her lashes to hide the hurt that seemed to live inside of her; it was always there, every time I looked at her.
“Shh,” I soothed as I shifted closer and drew her face to mine. “It’s okay. You are in no way selfish, and don’t insult yourself using cuss words like that. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her trembling lips parting on a sigh. “Please, Nick...”
I pressed my lips to hers, a featherlight touch at first, but I needed more. We both did. Gently, I covered her mouth with mine. I devoured her softness as each and every kiss we had ever shared exploded in my mind like a bomb, fragmenting into pieces as all the pent-up longing I’d buried scattered through my body like shrapnel.
The pain of losing her shimmered at the edges of my vision, and I slammed my eyes shut before the hurt overpowered the longing. I didn’t want the pain, not when she was finally here in my arms after all this time.
Burying my face in her neck, I breathed a kiss there before pulling away. I had to let her go now or I wouldn’t be able to stop. And I had to stop. There was no way we were ready for anything more. Not now—not yet.
She might think this was only a one-time thing, one last kiss, a way to revisit the past or a way to feel a sense of closure. But I knew better. The chemistry we shared was a once-in-a-lifetime gift and I refused to squander it again. I was beginning to believe she was meant to be mine. But she wasn’t ready yet, that much was obvious, and I wasn’t either.
“God, Nick. Drunk or not, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing out here with you.” She covered her face with her hands.
“Getting lost in the past and questioning the future, same as me.”
“I don’t know why I made you come all the way out here when I feel so hopeless all the time.”
“Because you’re just as curious about me as I am about you, and you’re sick of tiptoeing around our mutual feelings. And hopeless? No, baby. We have all the time in the world to let this unfold. There’s always hope.”
“Quit being so direct. I’m sobering up and you’re making it hard to get back into denial.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Denial, huh?”
“It’s my preferred state. Life is hard enough without the past coming back to haunt me every time I leave my house and see you in your yard.”
“We should talk about that.”
“There’s that word again.”