“Can we . . .” She shifted where she stood. “I’d like it if we could hug it out.”
She looked so earnest, so hopeful, that Max nodded before he could think clearly about it. Steadily, she drew closer and lifted her arms, sliding them around his neck, and pulled him close. Max’s hands moved around her waist, returning the hug carefully. It was only when Lizzie lifted her nose to his neck and tightened her grip on him that he gave himself over to it, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against hers, understanding that it was a hug of apology for both of them, a hug of forgiveness, a hug that quietly and respectfully acknowledged the harrowing journey they’d shared.
“Thank you,” she mumbled into his skin. “Thank you for today.”
Max nodded, feeling her fingers play in the hair at his neck just as she used to do.
She hummed. “You smell the same.”
Her words stirred something that felt like regret inside him. She didn’t smell the same, she didn’t smell of anything he recognized or wanted. Everything was so different. With a deep breath, he lifted his head but didn’t loosen his hold. “Lizzie?” She opened her eyes. “I have to go.”
“I know.” She bit her lip, her gaze turning wary. “But I’m afraid to let go again.”
More than a little surprised by her confession, Max stared at her for the length of three heartbeats. She stared back, took a deep, unwavering breath, then kissed him.
It lingered at the side of his mouth, tender and soft. Without thought, Max turned his head into it, capturing her gasp when he responded. Years ago that sound would have had Max desperate to have her, against the wall if necessary, but right then the sound caused his stomach to tilt as though he were at the top of a roller-coaster track and about to plummet to the ground. The kiss unbalanced him, made him dizzy, as if his body couldn’t quite accept what was happening.
He didn’t understand. Lizzie’s lips should have been familiar— he’d kissed them a million times before—but now they felt strange, alien, and didn’t taste the way he wanted them to, and her scent wasn’t cocoa butter but different and, God fucking dammit, why the hell was he thinking about Grace when Lizzie was kissing him?
Wasn’t this what he wanted? Wasn’t this what he’d hoped for? Didn’t he want the chance of being with Lizzie again after everything that had been before?
“No,” he mumbled against her mouth, answering his unspoken question aloud.
He didn’t. It wasn’t right. Not now. They were different people, wanting different things. There wasn’t even a glimmer of sweet nostalgia, of happier moments, when they would feast on each other for hours. Her kiss simply reminded him of a time in his life that he would never forget but was ready to move forward from.
He gripped Lizzie’s waist. “No,” he repeated. He pushed her away gently, spotting the high flush in her cheeks and the lust in her eyes.
“Oh God, Max,” she exclaimed, hiding her mouth with her palm and stepping back. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—I never should have . . . I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Max closed his eyes, her protests reminding him of the way Grace had apologized for kissing him, her mumblings, her shock, and the taste of her on his tongue when he’d reciprocated with more passion than he’d ever felt in his life.
Standing there staring at Lizzie, with the odd sensation of her mouth still tingling across his lips, as God was his witness, Max would have given anything for it to have been Grace instead. He’d have given anything to get the chance to kiss her again, to kiss her the way she deserved, to push into her body and hear her call out for him, to hold her and make her laugh.
He coughed, almost choking on those realizations as they flooded through him, sweeping away all the panic and anxiety of the last week, leaving nothing but hope and determination and something that felt suspiciously like love in their wake.
Looking down at himself, as though just realizing where he was, he blurted, “I have to go.”
Lizzie crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay.”
Max ran his hand through his hair, his heart pounding furiously with the need to get away, to get back to Preston County, back to Grace. He looked down at the envelopes still in his grasp, knowing that, as easy as it would have been to get the answers he’d thought he needed, they were too late. Silently, he placed them on a table located at the side of the hotel room door.
“I’ll leave these here,” Max said gently as he pulled out the most recent letter from the back pocket of his jeans and laid it on the top of the rest.
“Are you sure?” Lizzie asked, although her expression changed imperceptibly into one of understanding.
“Yeah,” Max answered with a small smile. “I think we’ve said all there is to say.”
The left side of Lizzie’s mouth lifted in agreement. “She’s a lucky girl, Max.”
Max startled.