I blink. My mouth hangs open, yet I can’t seem to draw a full breath. There are a lot of ways this conversation could have gone, but never would I have thought it’d go this way.
And yet…
And yet. My answer is the easiest thing in the entire world, the most obvious thing in the entire world. It’s something I’ve known since I was seventeen freaking years old. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been certain of in my entire life.
I lean forward, cupping his cheek to make him look atme instead of down at his hands.
“I loved you too, Keannen,” I say. “Even when I was a dumb, scared kid, I knew I loved you. It was just about the only thing I knew.”
We sit frozen, the rest of the bar gone as eight years of misunderstanding and hurt crumbles.
“I want things to go differently this time,” I say. “I want to start over. Right now. Tonight.”
“How?” he says.
“Surely the motel has a room we can grab.”
Understanding lights his eyes. Without another word, he jerks to his feet clasping my hand.
This time, nothing but our own urgency chases us out of that bar.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Keannen
THE MOTEL HAS EXACTLY one room left. I throw down my credit card without asking about the price. The woman at the desk takes one look at Tim and I and doesn’t ask any questions.
The moment I unlock the door, Tim puts a hand between my shoulder blades and pushes me deeper inside. I stumble forward from sheer surprise, caught off-guard by his aggression.
Caught off-guard, but not at all upset.
I wheel back toward him wearing a wicked grin, and he stalks toward me without bothering with the lights. I catch him by the shirt before he can push me onto the bed, grasping hard.
“You think you get to push me around now?” I ask.
“Yeah, I kinda do,” he says.
“Virgin takes a dick one time and now he’s all sure of himself.”
Tim shrugs in my hold. “You seem to think I know what I’m doing in that department.”
I quirk an eyebrow. If he’s suggesting doing it again, I’ll happily concede. “Maybe it was a fluke.”
He grins. “Only one way to be sure.”
Then he shoves me — hard. I have no shot of hanging onto his shirt when he puts his strength behind that push. I crash onto the bed, and Tim pursues, crawling over me and settling himself on my thighs. He strips off his hoodie and shirt as he sits there, then pushes my shirt up so he can peel it off over my head.
“You know,” he says as he flings the garment aside, “I thought all my hard work was going to be for nothing tonight. I went to the bar to drink and not think about it, in fact.”
“Hard work?”
“I still remember your instructions.”
A bolt of heat streaks through me. My instructions. That text I sent the first time. Tim must have seen this final pit stop as his last chance to get me alone before Seattle and decided to act on that while there was still time. He had no way to know how I’d respond. In fact, I had every intention of not going anywhere near him tonight. And still he … he did all that … on the off chance he might get me alone.
I reach up, cupping one freckled cheek and drawing him down to my lips. The instant before our mouths’ meet, with his breath hot against my lips, I whisper, “Good boy.”
He groans as I close the distance between us. Our mouths massage each other, tongues prodding past lips to get deeper. Tim’s weight pins me to the bed, but I’ll grant him that this time. After all that trouble he went to, he deserves it.