Page 51 of Rewrite Our Story

“Cade Jasper Jennings you cannot keep saying things like that!” I screech, letting him pull us both down to the outstretched blanket.

“Keep saying things like what?” he asks, hooking a leg over mine.

“You know what.”

He mischievously raises his eyebrows at me. “I can’t saypussy?” he drags out the naughty word, making my body heat even more when he licks his lips.

I try to hide how much I love hearing that word fall from his lips, despite how filthy it is. I shake my head. “I never knew you could talk like that.”

He ignores my comment at first, his lips traveling down my neck as he peppers kisses along my skin. Finally, he answers, his lips still hovering over the hollow of my throat. “That’s because it’s only with you. I lose my fucking mind around you, Goldie. I can’t help how bad I want you.”

His words are like a caress to something deep inside me. I love the satisfaction of knowing that he reserves his dirty words for me and only me.

I’m too overcome with emotion and I don't know what to say. So I kiss him. And we kiss under the stars for what seems like forever.

Eventually, I get dressed again before lying down next to him on the blanket. He pulls me into his body, placing my head on his chest. We both stare up at the stars, lost in our own thoughts.

I don’t know how much time passes when Cade breaks the silence.

“If you were to look at these stars forever, tell me about the house you’d want to look at them from.”

My heart warms at his words. I think about his question for a few moments. “Something right here. At our spot. Right where you found that very first marigold.”

27

CADE - PRESENT

I closethe distance between us. I’m not going to give her the luxury of lying to me from afar. She knows exactly what this house means to me—what it once meant tous. It’s hard to even look at her, I’m so fucking upset with her. I’m done with her pretending that she doesn’t remember our past. It’s so fucking ingrained in my mind, and in my heart, that I can’t fucking fathom that she doesn’t remember things that have haunted me for years.

I know damn well she remembers how we’d planned out everything she’d want in a house. It was the same night I tasted her for the first time. The first time I got to watch her fall apart under the stars.

And she’s staring at me like she doesn’t remember a fucking thing.

The tips of my boots stop right in front of her, almost touching the tips of hers with the proximity of our bodies. “Look me in the fucking eye and tell me you don’t remember.”

The tears running down her cheeks should bother me, but I don’t give a damn about them. She can cry all she wants, at least the tears are proof that she rememberssomething. I want to hold her, to tell her how deep down I hate to see her cry. But right now I can’t see through the anger—the hurt—of her pretending that for one summer, she and I weren’t each other’s world. For me, she stayed my world every day after.

Her bottom lip trembles. Her head rocks back and forth as she fights the sob that sounds from low in her throat.

A resigned sigh falls from my lips. I can’t fucking do this. Not with my current mental state. Not with her making us seem like we were nothing.

I yank her chin, forcing her to look at me. Even with the fury coursing through my veins, I can’t help but wipe the tears from her cheeks. I hate to see them, but I hate her lying more.

I’m so fucking mad at her.

I’m so fucking gone for her.

Always have been, always will be.

“I’m not going to waste my breath,” I seethe. “If you’re going to be a fucking coward, then be a coward, Goldie. But I don’t want to be anywhere near you when you’re reducing everything that’s happened between us—past and present—to nothing.”

My hands fall to my sides in defeat. Stepping away from her, I walk to the driver’s side of my truck. I climb in, staring blankly ahead as I wait for her to get in the cab. It’ll be an awkward few moments between us, but I can do it as long as I know that I’m close to escaping her presence.

My chest constricts at the memory of kissing her earlier. For a fleeting moment, it felt like she was mine again. The moment disappeared into thin air all too quickly. She’s already slipped through my fingertips. I didn’t have time to get a good grip, to find a way to keep her for a little longer.

After she silently slides into the seat next to mine, I angrily throw the truck into reverse and back out of the driveway.

Neither one of us utter a single word as I drive us to the house. The tension surrounding us is thick. Earlier it was with want and need. Now it’s just with anger and pain.

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