Page 54 of A Simple Reminder

My fingers find her sweet spot, and I circle it slowly, torturously, savoring every broken moan that spills from her lips. Her breathless whimpers are my undoing, each one fraying the edges of my control, dragging me closer to the edge of oblivion.

Her head falls back, blonde hair sticking to her damp skin, her eyes shut tight as she nods frantically. Then, she screams my name, her body convulsing around me, tightening with each wave of her release. She’s pure perfection in this moment—mine, utterly and completely. The sound of her, the way she trembles against me, shatters what little control I have left.

It’s all I need.

I follow her over the edge, burying myself as deep as I can, holding her so close it feels like she’s becoming part of me. My release rips through me, violent and consuming, leaving my entire body trembling with the force of it. I don’t let her go. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.

It takes nearly a full minute before my breathing slows before my heart stops racing like it’s trying to burst from my chest. I bury my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent, letting it ground me.

She took my breath away. She always does.

She’s still shaking slightly in my arms, her chest rising and falling against mine. There’s a comfortable silence between us, but I can sense the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air. This just happened—out of sheer exasperation, out of all the tension that’s been simmering between us since she walked back into my life. Or maybe even before that. Since I saw her again at Lucas’ wedding lunch when our eyes met after all those years apart.

I should have known we’d end up here. How could we not? Whatever we had between us hasn’t been erased or thrown away; it’s still there, lingering under the surface like embers waiting to ignite. And tonight, we burned.

I know she feels it too, because of the way her body molds into mine and the way she lets herself go so completely.

She tilts her head up, her voice barely above a whisper. “What do you do to me?” she murmurs, her fingers lazily tracing circles on my chest. Her words carry a mix of awe and exhaustion, as if she’s trying to understand how we ended up here again, tangled together. But I’d rather ask her whatshedoes tome. This woman, with her looks, that both soothes and burns, could sell me sand in the desert, and I’d gladly buy every grain. Hell, I’d thank her for the privilege.

She has this pull, this gravity that draws me in, and no matter how much I try to resist, I find myself helplessly caught in her orbit every single time. And the way she’s looking at me right now, lord have mercy. I know she doesn’t even realize the power she holds. She could take over the world if she wanted to.

I smile, but before I can respond, she continues, her tone softer now, almost resigned. “We needed to get that out of our system.” She exhales slowly, her eyelids fluttering like she’s fighting sleep, the weight of everything pulling her down.

Out of our system?As if one night could erase everything. As if all the years, the longing, the feelings we never addressed, could be washed away in just one moment of passion. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, and I find myself unable to believe her. Hell, I know I don't believe her. This is just her fear talking. She’s afraid, but I’ll speak with her tomorrow and everything will work out.

I hold her a little tighter, my fingers gently combing through her hair as she starts to drift. Maybe, I can’t wait until tomorrow. I need to say something if I ever want it to change. I need her to know that one night isn’t enough for me. ”Sophie,” I whisper, but her body softens further against mine. She is spent, her breathing evening out as she gives in to sleep. I can’t bring myself to wake her, even though there’s so much more I want to say.

I lie there, staring at the ceiling, her words echoing in my head.Out of our system.I repeat to myself again.

If only it were that simple.

Her head rests on the pillow next to mine, her beautiful face soft and peaceful. I can’t stop myself from counting, one, two, three…thirteen freckles, perfectly scattered across her skin like a constellation. The same thirteen I used to trace with my fingers, memorizing every spot. They haven't changed, and yet, everything else has.

One mistake. One damn mistake ruined it all.

What would’ve happened if she hadn’t come to the club that night? Would we have made it through the years? She would’ve gone back to the US to finish school, and I would’ve wanted to follow her. But responsibilities wouldn’t have let me. Barcelona was my city to take care of, and three years after that, I had Porto. Would we have survived the distance? Would what we had been strong enough to endure?

I guess we’ll never know because I ruined it.

“I’m sorry.” The words slip out in a whisper she can’t hear. It’s easier to tell her now while she’s sleeping, when the weight of my apology can’t be brushed off like the other times. When I’ve tried to say it before—she’s been awake, awake but choosing not to listen. I draw in a shaky breath, forcing the words out. ”I’m so sorry, Sunshine. I fucked up. I was a coward, and it was the biggest mistake of my life because I lost you. But this time…” I look at her angelic face, my voice dropping lower, raw with conviction. ”This time, I’ll make it right. I’ll show you what we could have been—what weshouldhave been—and what we still can be.”

The words hang in the air, heavy with promise. The thought of her moving on, finding happiness with another man, having a kid or two with him, twists something deep inside me, a pain sharper than any wound. “I can’t let you go, not again.”

But I can’t be selfish. If being friends is what she wants and if it’s the only way to keep her in my life, then I’ll swallow the pain, no matter how much it burns. Because losing her completely? That’s a world I’m not strong enough to face.

Her even breathing is the only response. I wait, hoping for a sign that she heard me, anything, but the silence feels endless. She’ll never just be a fleeting moment for me. Not now. Not ever.

Once again,I’ve forgotten to draw the blinds. Damn it, the morning sun is going to wake Sophie, and I want her here for as long as I can keep her. It might be the last time.

Last night flashes through my mind—how her body felt under mine, her skin soft and warm, her lips parting to release breathless pleas that still echo in my mind. The memory stirs something deep within me.

I move slowly out of bed, barely able to open my eyes. It can’t be more than six a.m. I shuffle to the window and draw the blinds. The light dims as I shut out the world, my eyes now fully open—awake. A part of me wishes I could stay half-asleep, half-dreaming of her.

I turn back toward the bed, hoping to sneak a glance at her still asleep, the anticipation swirling in my chest, imagining the way her bare skin is hidden beneath the sheets, her swollen lips pursed, ready for mine. Maybe when she wakes, we’ll go for round two. Where I get to taste her this time. But as I turn… She’s gone.

The bed is empty.

A cold rush of panic hits me. My heart lurches. I rush to the bed, throwing off the white covers as if she could somehow be hiding beneath them. Desperation creeps in. No Sophie.

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