The One That Got Away (Kingston Ale House)

“Scared.” Brynn finished his sentence. She was always good at that.

He laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. I’m terrified, Brynn. For ten years I’ve been so scared of losing you. But I realize now that if I keep running from how I feel, then I’ve already lost. That’s why I didn’t stop on the road to call again. I needed to get here. I needed to find you and tell you that I was wrong—about so many things. I needed to run to you this time, even if I didn’t find what I wanted when I got there. But I fucked up again when I saw you with him.”

She threw up those wild hands, and he grabbed her wrists, dodging another injury yet again. He was getting good at this. Maybe she wouldn’t kill him after all.

Then Brynn turned off the water. The lingering steam, along with the closeness of their bodies, kept him warm, but the room was silent now except for their breathing.

“I need you to hear me, Jamie. To really hear me. Do you honestly think I could have been with you like that in Amarillo if there was a chance I felt anything for someone else? I meant what I said on that stage today, and now that I know how you felt ten years ago, I get it—what it must have been like to watch me crush on someone else for the whole year. I was seventeen, Jamie. I didn’t know, not until that kiss. And then that was it. Everything finally made sense—I already loved you. I was just too much of an idiot to see it.”

He lifted a plastered curl from her forehead and tucked it behind her ear. He pressed his lips to the wound on her skin, because damn it if he wasn’t going to find a way to kiss her now.

“I finally had you and pushed you away.”

“You were going through a lot,” she said. “I understood. But to hear you say, in front of all those strangers in Amarillo, that you’d been in love with me since then? To find out you lied about Liz?” His jaw clenched, and she noticed immediately, kissing the spot just in front of his ear where all the tension lay. “I understand, Jamie. I didn’t give you much room for honesty, not with how I behaved at the reunion. I think my real anger came from realizing we’d missed out, that ten years ago I could have been there for you as your friend and also something more.” She pushed him again, lighter this time, and he knew any residual anger she might have felt was waning. “And then in Amarillo when I realized this could have been our trip from the start? It was a repeat of senior year—me falling for you and you putting that distance between us.”

He kissed her, soft and light, keeping his need at bay.

“I know.” His voice was hoarse. “Shit, I know.”

She kissed his chest and then tilted her gaze to meet his. “It’s my fault, too. I let you push me when I should have fought. And that’s what I did when I got here.” She groaned. “I didn’t dress that way for him, Jamie. I bought that stupid dress in the hotel gift shop, hoping your reaction to seeing me in it would shut you up long enough to listen. I only met with Spencer to tell him about us, that I wasn’t going to make it to the launch, that I was here with you.”

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, hanging on to the last of his restraint. “You wore that for me?”

She nodded. “That was the plan—to find you, I mean. But then you found me.”

“And behaved like an asshole,” he said.

“And behaved like an asshole.”

He slid his hands down her neck, her shoulders, her arms. When he had both of her hands in his, he brought them to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers.

“Can we stop being assholes, now?” he asked.

“Hey, I—”

He didn’t let her finish her protest, covering her mouth with his. So long, restraint. There was nothing sweet or gentle in his need, and Brynn answered him back with delicious force, tongues tangling and teeth grazing lips. He felt the skin on her arms pebbling with goose bumps and pulled her close.

“We can finish in here,” he said, voice ragged. “Or I can lay you out on that really nice bed out there and do really nice things to you.”

She nipped his bottom lip with her teeth.

“And maybe some not-so-nice things?” she teased.

“Jesus,” he growled, and he slid open the glass door. He stepped out first and then scooped Brynn into his arms before she had time to argue. She yelped with laughter, and he carried her to the bed where he laid her down on her back.

“Just before the nice and not-so-nice things happen, I need to say one thing.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“You’re perfect,” he started, and she took in a sharp breath. Encouragement.

“And you’re beautiful,” she said, cutting him off from his own declaration.

He pressed a finger to her lips, and she tried to suppress her smile.

“And I’m sorry I let ten years go by without telling you how crazy in love with you I am. You’re it for me, B. Always have been.”

He removed his finger, allowing her to speak.

“Are you still scared?” she asked.

“Terrified.”

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