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The water was still warm, though the bubbles were starting to fade, leaving little clusters clinging to the sides of the clawfoot tub like memories that refused to rinse away.

Which was very fitting. Because that kiss?

It was still very much clinging to my mind.

I sank a little deeper, water sloshing against the porcelain as I let out a low groan and covered my face with one wet hand.

Why the hell did I kiss him? Not just kissed him . I initiated it.

It wasn’t a bad kiss. Obviously. It was, in fact, one of the best kisses I’d ever had—which was also part of the problem. It was soft. Careful. The kind of kiss that tiptoed up to the edge of something huge and dangerous and whispered jump .

So yeah. Definitely not just some let’s get this tension over with kiss.

I blew out a breath, my skin flushed from the heat of the water and… let’s be honest, the memory of his heat. The way he’d pulled me in like I was something precious. The way his lips had moved against mine—tentative at first, then hungry, like he’d been starving for the taste of me.

And me?

I gave in like I hadn’t spent the last decade learning how to say no to that exact mouth. I stared up at the ceiling. Watched steam curl toward the wood beams.

“I’m in so much trouble,” I muttered.

Because the more I thought about it—the kiss, the dinner, the damn lavender bubble bath he remembered I loved—the more I realized something I wasn’t ready to say out loud.

I wanted to give this another shot. Not because of the kiss.

Not because of the cabin or the dinner or even his stupid, perfect memory that made me feel more seen than I had in years.

I wanted to try again because… he came back .

He chased me—not just through the woods like a feral bear with an emotional support complex—but with everything else. His eyes. His effort. His awkward, hopeful silence when I didn’t know what to say. He could’ve walked away again. It would’ve been easier. And let's face it, much, much safer.

But he didn’t. He stayed and he tried.

And somehow, even though the hurt was still there, I was ready to try, too.

I sat up slowly, water dripping from my skin as I reached for the towel beside the tub.

Absentmindedly, I toweled the water off my skin, still deep in thought, because what I’d realized during the bath was that neither the kiss, nor spending this weekend here with him, nor opening that third restaurant, had anything to do with finishing what we started.

This was about deciding if we had a new beginning. Although I already knew the answer to that, too. Had, from the moment he walked into that bistro.

I wanted it.

I wanted him.

I'd always wanted him.

I wrapped the towel around myself, padded to the mirror, and caught sight of my own reflection—flushed cheeks, soft eyes, hair pinned up messily.

I was a nervous wreck, and it showed. What are you doing ?

I wondered. What was I doing? Was I about to go out into the living room like this? Was I about to seduce my ex?

My nerves fluttered in my tummy, but I also felt a delicious ache spread through my pussy.

What would sex be like with Patrick? Pats had been sweet and careful.

We had both been the other’s first, and we’d explored all sides of sex, equally curious.

This new version of him was a wildcard. One I was more than enthused to get to know better.

"Are you okay in there?" Patrick called from the other side of the door. I must have taken a long time standing here, debating.

"Actually… " Was I really going to do this? "I need your help for a second." I guess I was.

The door opened. Patrick stared at me. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you said…"

His whiskey eyes moved up and down my towel-clad body. He was about to close the door when I dropped the towel. I wasn't the adventurous type, or the seducing type, but standing there, naked in front of him, while his pupils dilated gave me a never-before-experienced thrill.

"Have I changed?" Who was this woman?

"I'd say so," he rasped hoarsely, clearing his throat.

I cocked my head to the side, "For better, or worse?"

He stepped forward, holding his hands out, "Better. Always for the better." His voice was deep, laced with emotions. "Ells?"

I nodded, and he closed the distance between us in record time, one hand buried in my wet hair, the other slung around my waist. His lips hovered barely an inch from mine. "Are you sure about this?"

I answered truthfully, "Yes." Because I wanted this. I wanted to give us another shot, and I prayed I wouldn't end up regretting it.