Page 53 of Aisle Come Back to You

My eyes go wide as I glance toward the window, which is ridiculous since it’s not like I can see him from my spot in bed, given that we’re located on the second story.

A part of me is so desperate to be done with this that I almost entertain the thought of not responding and leaving him on read, but deep down I know what I have to do. We should talk, especially since maybe I can explain to him why this needs to be done and over with for good.

Blair: Fine. I’ll be out in a minute

I fling myself out from under the covers, flipping on the light as I give myself a quick glance in the mirror. I look like I’ve been rolling around in bed, but that’s fine. For once, I’m not looking to impress him. Plus, it’s not like he hasn’t already seen me at my worst. Hell, we both saw each other during those weird awkward phases as we grew up.

Adjusting the oversized shirt that constantly slips off my shoulder, I make my way out of my room. I once again find myself blessed by the big brother gods, as Miles is thankfully, nowhere in sight. However, as I open the front door, that feeling quickly vanishes when I come face to face with a pacing Ford.

My heart betrays me as I’m hit with an overwhelming feeling of desire and crushing sadness as I look him over. While he normally looks clean and put together, his brown hair is completely disheveled, as if he’s been frantically running his fingers through it.

“Blair,” he starts, coming toward me as I hold up a hand to stop him.

“We’ll talk, but first, let’s go somewhere else.”

My nosey-ass brother may not have been in the living room, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t lurking nearby. I’m not counting on this turning into a loud or heated exchange, especially considering Ford and I have never had that sort of relationship. Nevertheless, I’d rather err on the side of caution right about now, especially since my nerves are already on edge.

I’m also not looking to taint my brother’s place with any sad, lingering memories, especially since I know this is the moment when I’ll finally have to end things once and for all.

“Oh, okay. Where did you want to go?” he asks, adjusting his glasses.

“Let’s go for a drive.”

The drive was quiet as we made our way past the Evergreen Grove town limits. Despite his obvious desire to talk, I purposely kept my gaze focused out the window, taking in the sights as he drove.

Unfortunately, I knew I was only biding my time for so long as Ford finally pulls onto the side of the road, picking a destination fairly close to the area where we went for Ronnie’s photoshoot. Part of me wants to complain and tell him to pick someplace else, since the last thing I want is for sad memories to pop upwhen I look at my friend’s bridal shoot pictures, but since this area is deserted and will give us some much-needed privacy, I figure this battle isn’t one I want to fight.

Letting out a loud breath, Ford unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face me. “I ended things. Jenny and I are over.”

My forehead creases as I try to truly take in what he just said. “What?” I ask, my voice edged with panic. “You guys weren’t already separated?” Well, now, it definitely makes sense why Mrs. White was so damn pissed when she saw me and Ford. Hell, now I’m Team Jenny here, too.

“No, I mean yes. Yes, we’re separated, but after I dropped you off, I went to Jenny’s place and told her we need to make things official. On Monday, we’re meeting with our lawyers and ending things once and for all. We’re officially getting divorced.”

A fleeting sense of relief washes over me, but it dissipates almost instantly. “Was she upset?” Contrary to what others may believe, I never wanted to hurt Jenny in any of this. She may never have been my favorite person, but that doesn’t mean I wanted her to get caught in the crossfire, especially since I know all too well what it feels like to be someone’s second choice.

“Only because this is truly the end, but she gets it. She wasn’t happy with me either,” he says, tentatively reaching for my hand, which I let him take—for now.

“Ford,” I say, looking down at our entwined fingers. “I don’t think we should do this.”

“Why not? You can’t tell me that what we have between us isn’t real. We were made for each other. You’re my person. I know it, and I know you know it, too.” I feel a tender touch beneath my chin, guiding my gaze upward to meet his. “Tell me that what we have isn’t real,” he challenges.

I stare, our eyes locked in an intense battle. I know what I should say, and I’m so tempted to lie, but it’s impossible. “I can’t.”

“Then be with me,” he begs.

“But it’s not that easy.”

“Blair, being with you is the easiest thing in the world. Who cares what anyone says or thinks? Because I sure as hell don’t. The only thing that matters to me is you and your happiness, and I know that I can make you happy. Please, let me be the one who makes you happy. Let me be your person, because I sure as hell want you to be mine,” he further pleads as he drops the hand from my chin before lifting the one with my hand as he presses a soft kiss to my knuckles.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve always been yours,” I confess, giving in as my fingers quickly unbuckle my belt and my hand finds its way to the back of his neck, urging him closer as our lips collide.

Maybe I’m weak, or maybe I’m tired of fighting what I’ve always known to be true. He’s right—he’s always been mine, and I know without a doubt that my heart has always been his. It belonged to Ford Hastings well before I was ready to admit that out loud or even to myself.

He slowly releases my hand, his touch shifting to the side of my neck, his thumb brushing soft circles against my cheek. The sweet and careful kisses soon ignite into a fiery passion as I eagerly open my mouth to him. I long to be near him again, my body buzzing with anticipation, almost like a shaken soda bottle on the verge of exploding.

As if our minds and bodies are in sync, our reluctant lips pull away from each other. As I forcibly push myself out of my seat and clamber over the center console, he quickly reaches down and pushes the seat back as far as it will allow. This would definitely be much easier if he were like many of the other guys in Evergreen Grove, boasting of their manliness with a truck. However, at this moment, I couldn’t care less.

All that matters is being close to him, and as I climb into his lap, it works, bringing us even closer, especially as I feel him straining against his zipper through my thin pair of biker shorts.

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