Page 113 of Before I Loved You

She wipes away the tears from her eyes, giggling. Her smile might be my second favorite thing about her. The first is those beautiful eyes I’m trying to engrave in my memory at this very moment.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be loud,” she whispers.

I brush the palm of my hand down her back. “You never have to apologize for being loud in the bedroom. In fact, I don’t think you were loud enough. Want me to really give you something to scream about?”

She bites her bottom lip, her hand cupping my cheek. There’s no awkwardness between us or weird after-sex tension. Just a feeling of calm. A comfortable sensation as though we’ve known each other for years.

But that can’t be true.

Because I would recognize these eyes in a crowded room.

I’m sure of it.

“Where have you been all my life?” she asks softly.

I press my lips to hers, savoring the sweetness. “Waiting for you.”

twenty-five

SARAH

My trembling hands rub the denim covering my thighs over and over again as my legs bounce in anticipation, my eyes glued to the frosted-glass door at the front of the room.

The second we woke up this morning, Paul sent his brother, Ray, a text message asking for his help. It only took thirty seconds for Paul’s phone to ring and for Ray to tell us where to meet him.

So, that’s where we find ourselves now.

Waiting in a secluded café in the Seaport district, overlooking the ocean.

My eyes wander to the large window, where I see big fluffy snowflakes falling gracefully outside. It’s a picturesque view that would make for a lovely painting. One that would surely put anyone’s anxious mind at ease.

But my mind isn’t just anxious.

It’s a riddled mess that I can’t shut off.

It’s racing with worries and dread, overthinking everything that could go wrong with asking Ray for help.

Like what if Paul’s wrong, and Ray does have to watch the video?

What will he think of me?

Will I ever be able to face him again?

What if there’s nothing Ray can do to completely destroy the video?

What if—

Paul’s hand rests on my bouncing knee, his thumb brushing the inside of my leg.

“Everything is going to be okay,” he notes reassuringly, placing a muffin and tea in front of me.

I nod, restlessly running my fingers through my hair before shoving them into my coat pockets. “You’re right. I know you are. It’s just, what if—”

Ding.

The bell above the frosted-glass door chimes, and my eyes shoot over to find Ray walking inside. He spots us quickly in the back of the café and advances toward us, brushing snow off his jacket and removing his knitted beanie.

“Hey, Ray.” Paul stands to greet his older brother, gripping his shoulder in a manly half hug.

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