Page 183 of Dream On

When I pull back, my eyes lift, locking on his.

He strokes the hair away from my face, cups my cheek in his palm. “I’m so sorry.”

“How?” I can hardly speak. Can’t spit the words out.

He swallows, drops his forehead to mine. “I figured you’d be here, so I called your sister. Told her my plan. She helped your parents carry the piano down and said they’d figure out a way to get out of the house tonight so I could surprise you. I needed this moment with you. To apologize and to…fuck, I don’t know. Tell you what an idiot I’ve been, so wrapped up in my own bullshit, I was convinced I’d bring you down with me.” He holds me tighter. “But I never feel down when you’re here. When I’m holding you. When you’re smiling at me. Whenever I’m with you, I just feel…free.”

“Lex. Oh my God.” I yank his lips to mine, kissing him breathless. “I can’t believe you’re here. I thought I’d lost you, that you never wanted to see me again.”

He kisses me, longer, harder, passion and purpose fusing as one. “You want to know the highlight of my career, Nicks?”

I gaze up at him, a warm-honey feeling sliding through my veins.

I nod.

Lex dusts his thumb along my skin, gathering tears. “It wasn’t my first million-dollar paycheck. It wasn’t a hit television show or red carpet galas or worldwide fame.” His breath hitches as he stares at me. “It was four years ago. A dated old stage in a high school auditorium. You looking at me with diamonds in your eyes, wearing that silky blue dress, telling me you’d love me until your dying day.” Both hands clamp my jaw as he breathes out, “That’s my truth.”

A sound falls out of me.

An achy, wheezy sound—and I know exactly what it is:

Part madness, part healing.

Half heartache, half hope.

And somewhere in between it all…

I fell.

I fell in love with him.

I take his face between my hands and pull his mouth to mine. Reunion, relief. The kiss feels different from all the rest, free of anger, pain, and teenage angst. Our tongues slide together, gaining frenzy as my hands tug his hair and he curls an arm around my middle, one hand falling to the curve of my neck. He tips back against the instrument, shrieky chords at war with our moans. We’re a heartbeat away from christening another piano.

Lifting off it, he murmurs against my mouth, “Bedroom?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Lex reaches down and links his forearms under my thighs, hauling me up until he’s carrying me up the stairs, our lips fusing back together. He brings me to my room. My bed. I’m tossed atop the mess of covers, reaching to unbutton my jeans as he yanks his shirt over his head one-handed. When he falters at the bedside, I take a moment to drink him in. Cords of muscle, rippled abs, golden, bronzed skin.

Breathtaking.

Mine.

I extend my hand, beckoning him to me. A flickering of nerves coast across his face. “Lex,” I say. “Come here.”

His throat works with a swallow as one knee sinks onto the mattress, followed by the other. Army crawling over me, he gathers the hem of my blouse and guides it upward, pulling it over my head, my hair splaying across the assortment of pillows like a hazel crown.

When our faces draw together, an inch apart, I press my palm to his cheek. “You love me?” I whisper, our gazes tangling.

His brows crease, pinching together as he nods. “Yeah, Nicks,” he says softly. “I’ve never loved anything the way I love you. That’s why it’s so obvious that I haven’t been the same without you. I’ve been this shell, this broken person. Every part of me—everything I am—makes sense when you’re here. That’s how I know.”

All my tension drains as he buries his face in the curve of my neck, breathing me in. “I’ve loved you forever,” I confess, lifting his head and watching his eyes glaze over as they meet with mine. “I didn’t know what it was then, but I knew what it was after. After you left. That hole in my chest, that missing piece…that was you. The absence of you. Our unfinished ending.”

The crease between his eyes deepens as he leans in, his lips brushing mine in a slow, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, his breath shudders against my skin. “I don’t want it to be finished.”

“Neither do I.”

“Come back to me.”