Page 71 of Selfish Desires

As much as I wanted to scream and say no because of pride, my mind urged me to go with it. It was one weekend. Marissa could easily handle the restaurant, allowing me and Vincent to decompress from all the crazy swirling in our lives. What could really go wrong?

“Fine.” It was just forty-eight hours. What was I even fighting about? “Let’s do it.”

A wave of relief washed over Vincent's face, and for a moment, I almost regretted my decision. His shoulders relaxed, and the tense lines around his mouth eased up.

“Thank you.” It came out as a choked whisper. He wrapped his hands around mine, squeezing gently. It was a small gesture, yet it felt monumental given our storm.

I gave him a small nod but didn't say anything else. Despite threatening our relationship repeatedly, Vincent stayed by my side. I didn’t know what to make of it; the Vincent who left me years ago wouldn’t have done so. His actions were puzzling yet... reassuring.

We spent the night packing our essentials in silence. There was an unspoken agreement that we wouldn't discuss the matter further until we reached wherever he took us. I wasn’t sure if this was because we were trying not to scare ourselves more than necessary or because we were both tired from the arguing.

On the drive there, silence hung heavy in the air, interrupted only by the car engine's low hum and occasional GPS directions. Neither of us said anything about where we were heading. I only knew it was somewhere secluded—perfect for mulling over our issues without anyone’s prying eyes.

When we arrived at a small log cabin nestled high in a mountain range, I couldn’t help but sigh in awe at the pristine beauty around us. It seemed far from civilization, almost detached from reality—exactly what we needed.

“This is it.” Vincent broke the silence as he shut off the engine and glanced at me, uncertainty clouding his eyes.

“It's beautiful,” I admitted grudgingly.

It wasn't long before we settled into the cabin, quickly unpacking and exploring our temporary home. As night fell, we found ourselves seated next to the fireplace—the crackling flames adding a modicum of warmth to the tense air between us. I knew we were on borrowed time, and the peace wouldn't last. But at that moment, something about the serene silence felt right. Vincent had lured me away from my life for a weekend, promising answers, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was intrigued. I wanted to believe in him, in us, one more time. This weekend was our only chance, and I would take it.

The morning sun gently poured into the cabin, forcing our eyes to reluctantly crack open.

Vincent drew me closer, his fingers ghosting over my bare skin. “Good morning,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Morning,” I muttered back, burying my head in the crook of his neck. I let myself enjoy the moment, relishing in the feel of him beside me—so close yet miles away.

“What should we do today?” Vincent rolled onto his back, pulling me with him as I straddled his stomach, still half asleep.

“We could explore,” I suggested, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “There's a whole mountainside we haven't seen yet.”

“We could,” Vincent mused, running his fingers through my hair, pulling my face up so he could peck me on the lips.

“I probably have morning breath.” I smiled against his mouth as Vincent didn’t seem to care.

“I'm willing to take the risk.” He grinned, pressing his lips against mine once more, sliding his hands down my back, stopping at my ass, squeezing each cheek.

Laughing, I pushed against his chest, playfully scolding him. He gave a carefree shrug, his eyes dancing with mischief. This was the Vincent I remembered, the man I had fallen madly in love with.

“I’m going to shower and get ready. Then we explore?”

“Absolutely,” Vincent agreed with a lazy grin. His fingers traced the curve of my waist, his touch light and teasing.

I smiled back at him, rolling off his chest and stretching languorously before getting up from the bed. As I walked toward the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel his gaze on me, a sensation that sent shivers down my spine. The cold mountain air mixed with the steam from the shower created a misty haze in the small bathroom. As I stepped under the stream, the water flowed over my skin, washing away any lingering restlessness from the previous day.

When I emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, Vincent was sitting on the edge of our bed dressed in jeans and a shirt, his hair still tousled from sleep. He looked up as I entered and offered a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“I’m going to brush up.” Vincent stood. He walked over to me, kissing my damp shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

While he was freshening up, I started to sift through my small duffel bag to find something suitable to wear. I picked a pair of fitted jeans and a warm sweater, perfect for a day in the mountains.

“Getting dressed so soon?” Vincent’s deep timbre pierced the room’s silence. I gasped, spinning around, my towel falling off my body. “Sorry, did I scare you?” He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms, eyes raking my nude body.

A blush heated my cheeks as I quickly bent down to retrieve the fallen towel, wrapping it around myself hastily. “You could have knocked,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze.

Vincent pushed off the wall and sauntered toward me, a hint of amusement tugging at his lips. “And miss the view?” he teased, reaching out to tuck a damp, loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent goosebumps trailing down my exposed skin.

“Dressing was my plan,” I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart hammered in my chest from his sudden closeness, even though it should have felt natural. Despite my obvious nudity, Vincent’s gaze sent me into a raw, vulnerable state. With burning eyes melting my flesh, I suddenly had a strange notion Vincent didn’t want to go hiking anymore, spotting his thickening length pressing against his jeans.

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