Page 2 of His Forever

“I… I can’t stay here,” Brynn said suddenly, sitting up on the table. She wiped her eyes again and looked at me. “I need to go home, Leo. I just want to go home.”

I woke up suddenly, my heart pounding as I blinked away the remnants of the dream. My eyes darted around the room, half-expecting to still see the sterile walls of the doctor’s office. But instead, I was in a soft bed, the room dimly lit by the early morning sun filtering through the blinds. I felt movement beside me and turned my head, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes connected with Brynn’s.

“Bad dream?” she whispered, her voice soft, almost concerned.

I stared at her, completely stunned. Brynn. I hadn’t seen her—hadn’t been in the same bed with her—in years. So many years that I could barely remember the last time we’d spoken. My head spun as I tried to make sense of it all.

The last thing I remembered was getting off the plane in Charleston. Apollo had been with me, trailing behind to grab ourstuff. A black SUV had pulled up, and I’d assumed it was Teddy, my contact. Then, the driver’s door opened, a gun appeared, and after that… nothing.

Now I was here. In bed. With Brynn.

“What the hell is going on?” I croaked, my throat dry.

Brynn sat up, and I noticed she was fully clothed. “Now, that is a long story,” she said with a small smile. “One I can tell you over breakfast.”

Chapter Two

Brynn

Leo sat across from me, his hands resting on either side of his plate. A stack of pancakes sat in front of him, along with a couple of crispy strips of bacon and some fruit. I had the same, but neither of us was touching the food. It was as if the simple act of eating had become too overwhelming.

I kept stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the man in front of me with the one I remembered. It had been over twenty years since I’d last seen him. Hell, probably closer to twenty-five. Time had aged him, sure, but as I looked at him, I realized something that took me completely by surprise: Leo was still the most handsome man I’d ever seen.

He had aged like some men do—gracefully, effortlessly, unfairly. His dark hair had turned a silver-gray, streaked with a bit of white at the temples. The short cut only seemed to accentuate the strong lines of his face—cheekbones that still looked chiseled, a jawline that remained defined despite the years. There were more wrinkles now, around his eyes and mouth, lines etched deep into his skin from years of laughter, stress, life. But instead of making him look worn down, they gave him a rugged sort of charm that made him even more striking.

His eyes, though, hadn’t changed. Still the same sharp, piercing blue. The same eyes that had once looked at me with a tenderness I’d never forgotten. Now, they studied me carefully, like he was trying to figure out what I was doing here, why we were sitting together after all this time.

Leo shifted in his chair and his broad shoulders hunched slightly forward as he leaned his elbows on the table. He had kept in shape, that much was clear. His arms were still solid, his chest broad beneath the dark T-shirt he wore. His hands, which rested lightly steepled together, were large and strong, thoughhis skin was rougher now, a testament of the years between us. Everything about him screamed strength, even now, even after all this time.

But there was something else, too. A heaviness in his posture that hadn’t been there before. It was in the slight drop of his shoulders, in the way his brows furrowed whenever he glanced down at his untouched food. There was more than just age weighing on him; there was a burden, a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He cleared his throat and looked up, catching me staring. I felt my cheeks flush and quickly looked down at my plate, stabbing a piece of pancake with my fork, though I had no intention of eating it.

“You look good, Brynn,” he said, his voice low and rough, as if unused to talking like this.

I glanced back up at him, smiling weakly. “You do, too. You really do.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “I doubt that.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying him again. “I mean it, Leo. You… you’re still you.”

His eyes softened for a moment, the tension in his face easing just a little. Then his expression darkened again, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward. “I’m not the same man you used to know, Brynn.”

There it was—the pain, the burden I’d seen in his posture. I didn’t know what he’d been through, but I could see it had changed him. Maybe not physically, but there was a hardness in him now that hadn’t been there before. A kind of wariness, a distance.

I sighed, pushing my plate away slightly, knowing I wasn’t going to eat any of it. “None of us are,” I said quietly. “Twenty-five years… It’s a long time.”

Leo nodded slowly, and his eyes were distant. “Yeah, it is.”

For a few minutes, we just sat there in silence. The tension between us was thick and filled with the weight of everything unsaid. There was so much I wanted to ask him and so much I needed to know, but I didn’t know where to start. All those years had passed, and yet here we were sitting at the same table as no time had gone by at all. And I had no idea how to bridge the gap between us.

He finally broke the silence, his voice cautious. “How… how did we end up here, Brynn? What happened after the plane? Why am I sitting here with you?”

“Sig brought you here. He was only a few minutes ahead of Candace.”

Leo tipped his head to the side, his dark eyes narrowing as he regarded me from across the small table. “How do you know about Candace?”

I set my coffee down on the ceramic coaster and studied him as he waited for my answer. Leo hadn’t changed in all these years. He was still the same—used to having the upper hand and always the one with the information. He thrived on control and on being a step ahead of everyone around him.

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