Page 72 of Lush

“So why did you stay?” he asked, his voice rough, laced with a vulnerability that echoed my own. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because I was embarrassed.”

The touch of his hand on my cheek, warm and firm, grounded me; his thumb gently stroked my skin. “I would have wanted to be there for you, no matter what. I spent so long feeling like I wasn’t enough. Not for you, not for anyone.”

“You were more than enough,” I said softly. “Fuck what you dad said. You matter, Reese. You’re more than just this screwup you think you are. You matter.”

He lifted my chin. “You didn’t trust me.”

“I trust you now,” I whispered.

Without thinking, I leaned closer, my breath mingling with his, the anticipation hanging heavy in the air. Reese didn’t hesitate; he closed the distance between us, his lips crashing onto mine in a kiss.

The warmth of his lips met mine, and his hands cupped my back, pulling me near as if to devour the space that had separated us for so long. The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils.

The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us connected in a way that felt both familiar and new. The taste of his lips, the feel of his breath against my skin—it was intoxicating.

I missed this. I missed him.

I sighed into his kiss. He tasted like whiskey and those damn cigarettes he needed to stop smoking. When we finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, I looked into his eyes and saw the same desperation, relief, and possession reflected back at me.

I started to talk, but then I saw Blair Sterling behind Reese—smirking. Our eyes met, her smile faded, and she practically ran for the door.

Reese’s firm grip stopped me.

“Laurene, hold on.”

Pulling away, I said, “I need to talk to Blair.”

I brushed past him before he could say anything else.

The air outside the main hall was cooler. People milled about in small clusters, andthere—I spotted Blair’s distinct red hair. She headed toward the staircase leading upstairs.

I followed her.

Upstairs was quieter, the ambient noise of the party fading into the background.

She turned a corner, disappearing from view momentarily. I quickened my pace.

Rounding the corner, I ducked against the wall when I spotted her by a door. She knocked, then the door opened.

I counted five seconds. The door was slightly ajar, letting light spill into the hall. I zoomed to the door, hoping they didn’t spot my shadow. I craned my neck to peek through the crack.

Candlelight cast shadows on the table, but Blair was nowhere in sight. The room, with its bookshelves and trophies, looked like a study.

“Did anyone see you?” I heard a voice.

“No.”

Blair stepped into my view.

She wasn’t alone.

Harold.

I sucked in a breath. No. Not him.

He stood close to her—too close—his face shadowed by the dim light. His fingers brushed her wrist before trailing down her arm. I stiffened.

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