Page 125 of Ghosts Don't Cry

I’ve been starving for this. Forhim.

His hands move to my hips, and he lifts me, turning until my back is against the wall, and my legs are around his waist. I have a wild thought that he’d never have been able to do that when we were younger, then it’s gone, and I’m gasping at the way he rolls his hips against me.

My head tips back against the wall, my breath coming in uneven gasps.

“Ronan.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark and burning, before dipping his head to kiss me again. Deeper this time.Slower. His hands are everywhere. One wrapped around my thigh, holding me steady against him, the other tangling in my hair. Mine are doing their own exploring, smoothing over hisshoulders, down the muscles of his arms, before winding around his neck to pull his head back to mine.

The heat between us winds tighter, a desperate pull that neither of us even tries to fight. Another roll of his hips makes me gasp, pleasure sparking through every nerve, setting my body on fire. I can feel how badly he wants me. The evidence presses against me. And I want him just as much. I need him with an intensity that should terrify me.

And then …

A shiver rolls through me that has nothing to do with desire. My skin prickles as the cold finally overtakes the heat between us, seeping through the places where we’re not pressed together. Reality intrudes—the freezing air, the hard wall against my back, the fact we’re in an abandoned factory.

Ronan’s breath hitches. His grip loosens slightly, and his head lifts. His gaze moves over my face slowly, tracking every bruise, every tear track, the swelling of my split lip. Then he exhales, long and slow, and a little frayed at the edges.

The sound that follows is unexpected and completely unfamiliar—a deep, throaty, slightly breathless laugh.

I blink at him, confused. “What are you laughing about?”

His head dips, forehead almost touching mine. He takes another slow breath, as though he’s trying to pull himself back from the edge we were both about to fall over.

“How the hell did we ever manage to do this here when we were kids?” His voice is rough, edged with amusement. “It’s fucking freezing.”

A startled laugh escapes me before I can stop it. Of all the things I thought he might say, that wasn’t one of them. The absurdity of it—us, tangled together against a wall in the middle of October, half-undressed—hits me.

“Adrenaline?” I offer with a shaky smile.

“More likely poor judgment.” His thumb brushes over my cheek again, gentle now. “Though, I’m not sure our judgment has improved all that much with age.”

We’re both still a little breathless, still tangled up in each other. But the tension has shifted, softened into something easier to manage.

My legs drop from around his waist, feet finding the ground. His hands steady me, making sure I’m stable before he steps back slightly. Not far, just enough that we’re not pressed together anymore.

The loss of his warmth is immediate and jarring. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly very aware of being half naked and cold.

He bends to retrieve my sweater from where it landed. When he hands it to me, our fingers brush. The contact sends another spark through me, but I ignore it and pull the sweater on.

His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “I missed you, Lily.”

Chapter Fifty-One

RONAN

I didn’t meanto say it out loud, but I can’t take the words back now they’re out there. They’re honest in a way I haven’t let myself be in a long time. She doesn’t reply, fiddling with the hem of her sweater, then she takes a breath and looks at me.

“Come back to my apartment with me.” She carries on in a rush, not giving me a chance to reply. “We need to talk.Reallytalk. Somewhere that isn’t surrounded by all the ghosts of the past.”

She’s right. This place holds too much pain, too many memories of who we used to be.

I nod. “Okay. I’ll follow you in my car.”

We make our way outside without talking. I wait until she’s in her car, before starting my engine. Following her taillights through town gives me too much time to think. My mind replays everything that just happened. I feel an odd mix of exhaustion and relief. It feels right finally having everything out in the open, but it’s drained me in ways I didn’t expect.

She signals and turns right into an apartment complex, waits for me to park, then leads me inside without a word. The elevator ride to her floor takes an eternity. The space is toosmall. Her scent fills my lungs. The memory of her touch burns my skin. I keep my hands shoved in my pockets, fighting against the urge to reach for her.

The doors open, and I follow her down a quiet hallway. Her keys jingle as she unlocks her door. The inside of her apartment is everything I expected it to be. Warm colors on the walls, comfortable furniture, books stacked on every surface. There’s art on the walls that was clearly done by kids.