Page 24 of Won’t Let You Get Away

“No,” she pauses, her lip twitching as she fights back a smile. “Would I rather be home in baggy sweats and a tub of ice cream? Hell yes. But a night out with my sister is normally fun.”

I nod, unsure of what to respond with.

“We should talk,” she says after a moment, taking a step closer. “You know, about our…vacation.”

Pushing off my truck to stand straight, I tuck my hands in my pockets and focus on our conversation and notthosethoughts of Bri.

“If you’re ready to.” I shrug.

I never expected to have this conversation in the parking lot of a bar. But at least it’s happening now instead of never.

Her brows furrow and she sucks a deep breath.

“If I had known who you were, or anything about your relationship with my parents, I never would have…” she trails off, staring down at her feet while shaking her head.

I watch her struggle to find the right words, my chest tightening as I try to understand where she’s coming from.

“Do you regret it?” The question slips out before I can even think about it. It’s not something I thought I needed an answer to, but now that the words are out there, I can’t take them back.

She snaps her head up, scowling at me.

“No,” she says, moving closer until we’re only inches apart. “While I may feel a lot of things about our time together, regret is not one of them.”

I let out a sigh of relief and Bri sucks in a sharp breath, bringing my attention back to her.

“What about you?” She whispers, her eyes darting between mine as she searches for an answer.

With her so close to me, I can’t think straight.

Reaching out, I wrap a hand around her waist and tug her into me with a hand on her lower back.

Bri gasps, falling into my chest, but not protesting as I use my other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and cup her face. Her body molds perfectly against mine without hesitation.

She grips my shirt in her fists, holding on to me but not saying a word.

Giving her time to push me away, I watch her closely until my lips hover over hers.

“Nothing could ever make me regret the time we spent together,” I whisper.

And then I do the one thing that has been on my mind every single day for the past three months—I kiss her.

Bri moans and wraps her hands around the back of my neck, kissing me back with just as much passion.

I keep her pressed against me and run my tongue along her bottom lip, silently begging for her to open up. She does, rewarding me with the most beautiful sound as my tongue slips inside.

Without breaking the kiss, I turn us around until her back is against the door of my car.

For months, I’ve imagined what it would be like to hold Bri in my arms again. Even if it was only for one more night, I had dreamed up countless scenarios and what I would do to hear the beautiful sounds she makes.

But never once did I imagine it happening in a bar parking lot.

Pressing her against my truck, I deepen the kiss and let my hands roam. If this is all there is, I want to imprint every perfect curve and dip into my memory. One hand slides over her ribs, my thumb grazing the underside of her breast.

Which is another thing memory didn’t do justice.

Bending slightly, I hook my other hand under her knee, lift it to my hip, and grind against her.

“Noah,” Bri breaks away for air but makes no move to push me away.

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