Page 34

I press my chest to hers and wait. She might push me away, tell me to take her home, but I don’t think she will. I want to grab her by the face and kiss her until her lips match the pink rising in her pale skin, but I don’t. With tangled red curls stuck to her cheek, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, and I know even if she can’t say it now, I have this time with her before she’s someone I used to know.

I reach up and brush the curls from her cheek. Tears surface in her eyes and I hate the way she makes me feel. I hate that she’s consumed me, every part of my soul. I treat her like she’s a memory captured in a photograph. Careful not to bend the edges of her fragile heart, I take my time with her. I move slowly and ignore the urge between my ribs to tell her I’m done again. Instead I give in. “I won’t tell him,” I whisper, reaching between us to enter her.

Again.

She doesn’t tell me to stop, and she certainly doesn’t push me away. I love her in silence and live in the space she leaves me. Wanting more.

Brushing my nose under her chin, I angle her head back and take advantage. “Don’t marry him,” I beg, losing composure.

She doesn’t say anything.

PartTwo

The moon sat outside her window

Like a lover waiting to be told

The secrets that remained

Chained up in her heart

—r.h. Sin, the gift, trust the moon.

CHAPTER11

Consequences

ABBI

What have I done?

I…don’t know what I’m doing. You’re disappointed in me, aren’t you?

Girl, I’m disappointed in myself. What the fuck was I thinking?

I wasn’t. Clearly. I’m getting married. I cheated on my fiancé. Not once, but three times now. Three fucking times. I can’t even call it a lapse in judgement at this point. Unless I’m pleading insanity.

The problem? None of that matters to Jace. Not in the slightest.

Oh my God, I think I’m going to be sick. Panic rushes through me in waves, my stomach tightening, mouth dry. I’m losing it.

What am I going to do? Tell Griff? Choose Jace?

I want to, but choosing Jace doesn’t come without consequences. For both of us.

“I should take you back.” I stare at him as his words wash over me, the fire crackling beside us. We’re in the cabin now, Christmas morning, a scene of winter outside. I should be with my family, or even my fiancé, but no, I’m here with the man who keeps me coming back, desperate to remember what passion feels like. Drawing in a breath, he blinks slowly and takes a drink from his whiskey in his cup. “Or maybe I should keep you. I haven’t decided yet.”

There’s a twinge in my stomach. An acceleration to the steady thump in my chest. There’s a good part of me that wants to run home and announce to the world this guy beside me is the one I love. The one I’ve always been in love with. But how will that work? How can I turn my life upside down on a feeling? I wasn’t brought up like that. I was raised to listen to your head, not your heart. There’s no room for emotions of the heart when it comes to what’s best for you. That’s what my dad used to tell me. And I tried to make life choices on those words, but I’m not so sure they’re right. They weren’t when I walked away from Jace the first time. At least it doesn’t feel that way now.

When my dad met Griff for the first time, he told me, “Honey, that’s a man who can give you the world.”

He meant financially because everything revolves around money with my dad.

I raise my gaze from my hands to Jace. Look at us sitting by the fire. To anyone else, this would look like two lovers sharing a private moment together on Christmas. When in fact, we’re two people who fell victim to desire and temptation. I swallow over the tightness in my chest. It doesn’t help. It only makes me feel like there’s something stuck in my throat. “My parents are probably wondering where I am.”

Jace smirks, his expression boyish as he sets his glass on the wooden coffee table to his left. That smirk, it gets him anything he wants. I feel as if my entire body bursts into flames and spreads like wildfire to my extremities. I watch the glass rock back and forth on the weathered, unstable wood. Me and this cup have a lot in common.

He slowly shakes his head, and his lips press together like he’s trying to hide his smile. “I’m missing,” Jace says, his voice low and full of that familiar Southern accent he’s always had. I remember back to being twelve years old and his “yes, ma’am” had been directed my way and the smirk that followed. Licking my lips, I wiggle my feet further under the blanket over me and listen to him talk. “I’m sure they’ve figured it out.” Turning, he pours himself another glass of whiskey, and I turn my attention to the fire. The slight lift of his eyebrows shows a hint of amusement, which reaches the corners of his lips. “They knowwhoyou ran off with.”