Page 40 of No Mistakes

I exhale, rubbing a hand down my face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Like I said, you’re welcome.”

I shake my head, the tension in my chest easing a little. The ache is still there, dull and permanent, but it’s less sharp now.

“She smiled after,” Gunnar adds quietly. “That kind of smile people don’t fake.”

I don’t respond; my mind racing at a million miles per hour from everything he’s just said. I smile, a small laugh leaving my lips at the fact that my youngest brother is the most supportive of all, even if he does have a strange way with words. But fuck, if it helps me get Eva back, he can say whatever the hell he wants.

I just have to sit and wait, because maybe after all is said and done, there could still be hope, even for a man like me.

CHAPTER 19

EVA

We’rehours into the drive, the scenery melting into an endless blur of highway and dead trees. The car feels like it’s shrinking around me, and no matter how many times Mandy tries to distract me, with off-key singing or pointing out weird roadside attractions, I can’t shake the heaviness pressing on my chest.

The car slows, and I sit up, looking out the window to see where we are. I spot a gas station ahead of us, and release a heavy breath as I prepare to be greeted by fresh air, instead of suffocating on aftershave.

We roll to a stop, and I slip out of the SUV, mumbling something about needing the bathroom as I head towards the small, grimy-looking building off to the side.

I spot Axel standing by his car, waiting for the pump to finish. But he’s not looking at the screen or the nozzle.

He’s looking at me.

And God help me, I feel iteverywhere.

He’s leaning against the vehicle like he owns the damn fucking world, with one arm flexed over the roof, while the other hangs loose by his side. His black tee hugs the broadness of his chest, clinging to his arms just enough to make me dizzy,tattoos on full display as they snake down his tanned skin like temptation carved in ink.

The wind catches a lock of his dark hair, brushing it over his brow, and I swear to God, my knees almost give out.

I should look away, but I don’t.

His gaze pins me in place, as I replay what Gunnar told me.

He’s not the kind of guy to lie about who his heart beats for.

You’re the only woman I’ve seen knock the wind out of him, just by walking into a room.

He looks like he’s made of steel and sins and everything I should’ve run from, the moment I removed his mask. But I didn’t… I stayed.

And now I’m standing here, watching him like I don’t still feel the phantom press of his hands on my skin. Like I don’t still taste him in the back of my throat. Like I didn’t spend half the damn drive trying to breathe through the ache.

I push forward, needing to get away from everything and everyone.

I just need a minute to myself. Just one.

To pull myself back together, to silence the storm behind my ribs. To pretend like seeing him again doesn’t make everything inside of me scream for him.

The bathroom is as disgusting as I expected, but I enter, letting the door swing shut behind me. The fan whirls loudly above, but it doesn’t do anything to remove the smell from the area.

I take a second to look in the mirror. My reflection looks calm, but my chest is tight, my skin still burning from the last twenty-four hours.

I grip the edge of the sink like it might hold me together as I think about how broken he looked when I walked past him. How he stood there, holding the door open, even after I entered the other car.

I hate how much I still feel him. Hate that even now, my body remembers his touch like a brand, burning into every inch of my skin. Hate that no matter how many miles we put between us, he always manages to get close.

I take a step back, pressing my palms against my knees, trying to ground myself, but it doesn’t work.