Page 54 of Covetous

“In a minute,” I repeat, wanting these last moments as much as he does.

Chapter Nineteen

The silence hangs heavy as we trudge back to the house, our unspoken thoughts suffocating the air between us. Each step feels like a betrayal, pulling me away from what I want, from him. But I signed up for this, and I know how it ends.

It’s a simple plan, but my heart’s not on board. I’ll enter through the back door into my bedroom, and Victor will creep through the side entrance a few minutes later. We’ll pretend the beach never happened—that nothing ever sparked between us.

Sadness and anxiety drag me down like quicksand with every step. I’m screaming inside, barely holding it together, wanting to say fuck it all.

Victor’s voice cuts through the tension. “I wish we didn’t have to go back,” he mumbles as we slow to a stop.

“Me either, but someone might be up soon.”

He turns to face me, his hands on my shoulders as if he’s trying to massage the tension knots out of them. “Not the house.” With a subtle shake of his head, he presses his forehead to mine. “I meant back to our lives. Because this is fucking bullshit.”

I close my eyes, savoring the moment, etching every sensation into my memory as I mourn its end. “But we can’t,” I choke out, fighting back tears. “Esme and?—”

“I know.” His throat bobs. “This is all my fault. What happened with Esme and me should’ve never?—”

“We can’t go back.” Dwelling on it hurts too much.

“You’re fucking killing me here,” he jokes halfheartedly.

“It’s too late and too messy.” But the way we’re wrapped up in each other, hearts and bodies intertwined, makes it excruciating to let go.

“So?” A hint of humor colors his tone.

A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips as I reach up, combing my fingers through his hair. “You’ve got sand in your hair.”

“I have sand in places I don’t even want to think about right now.” He grins, teasingly grazing his lips over mine.

“Me too,” I admit. Then something occurs to me out of the blue. “We didn’t use a condom.”

Realization dawns on his face. “Shit. I’m sorry, Sky,” he says, guilt heavy in his words. “I’ve always used one before—even with Esme. And I’m clean. I get tested regularly. I can show you my?—”

“I trust you,” I cut him off. “And I’m on the pill. As for condoms, I’ve always used them, and I got tested a few months ago. After all, they’re not one hundred percent.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “No, they’re not.”

The fact that I always made Ian wear one but didn’t with Victor—and have zero regrets—isn’t lost on me.

“And I trust you too,” he says softly, gliding his hands up and cradling the nape of my neck. “How am I supposed to let you go?”

“I don’t know how to do this,” I manage, my emotions choking me. “But this is how it has to be.”

I thought I could handle it. Treat tonight like a one-time thing. But I was wrong. It’s not fair. Why do I have to give him up? Esme knew how I felt, but she went after him anyway.

Victor closes his eyes, pain etched across his face. Cupping his jaw, I trace the contours with my thumbs, committing every detail to memory. The electricity between us is undeniable, the pull irresistible. I lean in and press my lips to his, pouring everything into this kiss, tasting the forbidden fruit one last time.

Our kiss shatters me, a long-overdue goodbye.

Then, I do what I know is right. I walk away. And it doesn’t matter that every fiber of my being screams to hold on. I have to let him go.

The stairs to my patio creak with each step before I stop at my bedroom door, listening for any sign that someone’s awake. Silence fills the house, and I hope it means everyone is still asleep, clueless about last night. My hands shake as I close the door behind me and lock it, letting out an unsteady breath. Stripping off my sandy clothes, I rid myself of any incriminating evidence before changing into clean pajamas and grabbing my phone.

Me

Did you get in okay? Did anyone see you?

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