Page 161 of A Love That Saved Us

I can still hear Alley’s laugh bouncing off these walls the morning I asked if she’d just come from another guy’s place. Stillfeelthe jealousy, that sick pit in my stomach when I thought she might be seeing someone else. That fear of losing something before it was ever mine.

My lip twitches.Jesus. That was embarrassing.

My gaze settles on Alley. She’s in the kitchen, wiping down the counters… again. I already told her to leave them. The cleaners are coming tomorrow, but she can’t help herself. It’s who she is. Honestly, they won’t even have to do anything. She’s scrubbed every surface like she’s trying to erase our fingerprints from a murder scene.

I chuckle under my breath, remembering the first time she moved in. Same thing—on her hands and knees, scrubbing cupboards and baseboards, rattling on about how cleaners never touch the little details and how most men wouldn’t even notice.

I lean back against the counter. “What can I do to help?”

She glances over her shoulder. “Nothing. The stove just has some grease stains that are hard to get off. I’ve almost got them.”

She’s in a tank top and sweats, hair piled on top of her head, and I can’t help myself. I step in behind her, arms sliding around her waist. I bury my nose in her hair and breathe her in—that scent I can never place but would know anywhere.

She sinks back against me for a moment, then leans forward again, scrubbing at the stovetop. My hands drift up to her shoulders, fingertips brushing her skin before I press a kiss to her neck. Instead of pulling away, she tilts her head, giving me room.

She stills as my fingers trail down her arms, my lips following, leaving a path of heat along her shoulders.

“Babe.” Her voice is laced with caution. “I’ve got to finish this. I’m almost done.”

My arms cinch tight across her chest, pulling her into me, my cock twitching against her. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’m so ready to leave this apartment behind, ready to start fresh, start new. But holy shit, suddenly I’m slammed with this wave of sadness, like walking away means leaving part of myself here.

Maybe that’s a good thing. Hopefully I’m leaving all the fucked-up parts. But this is also where I became who I am. Where Alley and I first had sex. Where she moved in and made me the happiest man on Earth.

It’s also where I broke. Where I failed. Where I lost her.

But she found me.

She gave me her whole self. Again.

And that’s the piece I’m struggling to leave behind.

My hand slides under her top, and Christ, her skin’s so warm. So soft. My thumb circles her nipple and she falls back against me, rag slipping from her hand as she gives in.

“I need you here one last time, baby.”

Her grin spreads slow, fingers wrapping around my forearm. “Hmm. On the counter or the floor?”

I chuckle low in her ear, fingers sliding down, dipping below her waistband. “Why don’t we see where we end up?”

She spins, and her lips find mine. I kiss her hard, committing this moment to memory—the way her tongue teases mine, the way she melts against me, the little sounds that undo me every damn time. The way her lips make me feel like no matter where we are, I’m home.

Her hands glide up my chest, palms flattening against my pecs before rubbing back and forth, like she can’t get enough. Of me. Of us.

She moans into my mouth, andJesus, I’m finished when she does that. The sound vibrates through me like a plucked guitar string, sparking fire in my veins. My next kiss is desperate, met with her gasp. It’s pure fucking need. I couldn’t stop for anything.

My hand cups her neck as I take her deeper. Her nails dig into my waist, pulling me closer, and suddenly we’re moving—me backing her down the hall, mouths fused in wild, clashing heat.

It’s carnal, raw, an army of want rising inside me.

As soon as we reach the bedroom, I yank her shirt over her head and shove her sweats down as her fingers claw at mine. We hit the floor in seconds, naked and tangled in each other’s arms.

Memories crash through me—a hurricane of joy, laughter, and pain. The tears. The fear. The hollow ache of losing her only to find myself again. I pour every bit of it into this.

And I let myself fall for Alley all over again.

When we’re finished, we lie there on the carpet, sweaty and staring at the ceiling. Her hair sticks to my skin, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

I can think of no better way to say goodbye to New York.