Remember When 2: The Sequel

Oh, hell yeah. Of course I did.

Because suddenly I knew—right then in that second—that what I wanted, what I needed, was to feel Trip’s mouth on mine again. I needed it like the blood coursing through my veins, like the air required to breathe. Oh, hell. Who was I kidding? I knew it all along. I’d fought it for weeks, for years, lied to myself, tried everything to stay on the straight and narrow… but there it was.

Even still, there was the tiniest little voice in the back of my brain which reminded me that “want” wasn’t what I needed to be focusing on. I knew “want” shouldn’t even be up for consideration. I didn’t know how I was going to turn this off. I only knew that I had to. The thought of doing so caused a physical pain through my insides as I watched Trip looking at me deviously, coiled and ready to strike.

But he didn’t kiss me.

He came at me.

His hands grabbed my wrists, pinning my arms to the wall above my head and slamming his body against the length of mine. My breath hitched in surprise, and Trip was breathing as if he’d just completed a marathon.

But we both knew damn well this wasn’t the completion of anything. It was only just beginning. Again.

We were attached from shoulders to toes, our faces turned toward one another, only far enough away for him to train his focus upon my aching lips, an inch from his own as we breathed heavily against each other. The rest of my body was aching as well, my heart threatening to bust clear out of my chest. The feel of him against me causing heartbreaking memories to tumble over one another, to spill forth like water released from a dam.

He lifted his gaze to my eyes, and I could see the agony play out on his face as well. We both knew that this yearning could never be fulfilled, this craving could never be satisfied. The hope that had been repressed for years, unknowingly tempered during our time apart, suddenly brought back to the surface in the most unexpected way to torture us once again.

We stood there like that for an eternity; his beautiful cobalt eyes boring into mine, his gorgeous full lips just an inch from my mouth, both of us panting rapidly, his breath mingling with mine. I inhaled his sweet, clean scent, and it filled my lungs, which were heaving severely against his hard chest. A very rigid reminder was pressed against my hip, pushing insistently against me, leaving no room for doubt about what Trip was feeling.

Finally, he broke the standoff when he brushed my face with his cheek, quietly admitting the next words into my ear, his voice a hypnotic caress, a silk-over-gravel plea. “I need this, Layla. I need you. Help me to remember, Lay. Help me to remember us.”

He started to pepper my jawline with soft kisses, and even if my hands were free, I don’t know that I could have stopped him. He pulled back to check my reaction, hoping to find something written in my eyes, which surprisingly, hadn’t rolled to the back of my head.

I was sparring with my conscience, a fiancé who fought for attention in my warring thoughts. Even through the guilt, I found myself trying to banish Devin’s image from my mind, tried to keep him far, far away from whatever was happening here. I had a flash of his face, a split-second reminder of the real world that invaded the space between Trip and me. What kind of person would I be to let this continue? The thought must have flickered across my face.

I could feel the aching in Trip’s voice when he rasped, “No, no, no, don’t... Don’t ask me to stop, Layla, I can’t do it.” He tried to persuade me with his broken eyes before dropping his head in disbelieving defeat. He fired the only weapon left in his arsenal, a childlike attempt at good manners in order to plead his case. “My God, just... please.” He kissed my neck again. “Please, Layla.”

It was the “please” that did me in. The word was like a confession, a prayer, a benediction. I felt my defenses falling away, my arguments disappearing into vapor. My mind started to justify his nearness, the hold I allowed him over my existence. This beautiful man-boy that held my heart in his memories, who claimed my soul with his smile. I knew that if I kept looking into those deadly eyes, I’d sink into their infinite depths, lost forever. And something in my brain, in my heart, allowed that to be okay.

The fact was, I’d already kissed him in the hotel weeks ago. What had been done couldn’t be undone. Would it be so harmful, would it be so wrong to just kiss him again? Just to say goodbye. Just once. Once more.

I licked my lips, and the subconscious gesture must have served as an invitation. His words were the final attack that broke through my defenses. “I’m going to kiss you now. And when I do, you’re going to kiss me back.”

And then suddenly, there were no more words at all, because his lips were on mine.

Oh, dear God.

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