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There it was again.

An apology.

I closed my eyes and attempted to adapt to the heaviness in my limbs and that weight in my chest.

Words.

Just words.

Layla could keep apologizing, but it was her actions that had shown me how she really felt.

“You could have fooled me. You keep saying you’re sorry, but it doesn’t mean anything. I’m only hearing words. Meaningless words. Being sorry would have meant coming back and actually seeking me out. Being sorry would have been offering an explanation. Being sorry would have been taking action to fix what you’d done.”

She lowered her chin to her chest, her eyes dropping to her lap in defeat. Did she merely feel more remorse and want to offer up another apology, or was she realizing how wrong she’d been?

I took the opportunity to lift my glass to my lips again, swallowing down more alcohol to numb the pain. My eyes roamed over her. Over the flawless skin and soft hair. Over her bare legs and exposed shoulders.

Layla was right there.

She was so close.

My fingers itched to touch her. My arms ached to hold her. And my lips yearned to kiss her.

“I don’t even know if I remember,” I said.

Layla looked up at me with confusion in her expression. “Remember what?”

“All these years, whenever I thought about it, I was certain I could remember. But now that you’re sitting here beside me, I’m not so sure that’s the case. I don’t think I remember what it’s like to kiss you. To feel your lips against mine as the rest of the world melts away around us. Now that I’m realizing that, I wish I would have known the last time I kissed you was going to be the final time. I might have paid more attention. I would have made sure I didn’t stand a chance of forgetting what it was like to kiss you.”

Layla’s hands shot out and framed my face. She leaned toward me and crushed her lips to mine.

It happened so fast; I didn’t have the chance to register what was happening until she was already there.

I should have pushed her away. I should have stopped it.

But I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

I’d been craving her for years.

So, I reached out, placed my hands on her hips, and urged her off the stool. Layla willingly came, and with her body positioned close to me, I paid attention.

I committed the softness of her lips and the firm holdof her hands on my head to memory. I relished the taste of her mouth and the scent of her skin.

My fingertips bit into her sides, and when a moan tore up her throat, Layla separated her mouth from mine.

We stayed like that, our breathing heavy and our eyes locked on one another. Nothing else existed but her. Us.

And something told me this was dangerous, that I was flirting with something that had the power to obliterate me. But it didn’t matter.

Staring into those beautiful amber eyes, the possibility of peril didn’t exist.

I loved her.

After all these years and all this heartbreak, I was still madly in love with this woman.

Without taking my eyes off hers, I reached into my pocket, pulled out some cash, and tossed it on the bar for Steve.