Page 67 of Peaches

I watch her face change, those hard lines of anger softening into something more like concern. “Oh my god,” she says, clutching a hand to her chest. “I . . . I wondered if it might have something to do with her, but I didn’t . . . I’m so sorry.”

“We knew it was coming,” I say. “The doctor all but said it a week ago. But we had no idea it would be so fast.” My gaze drops to the ground. “She’d had a really great day too. I think we were all carrying a little hope that things were turning around.”

Her eyes close as she lets out a breath. “I’m so sorry, Rhett,” she says again.

I move toward her, reaching to press my palm into her cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I thought you were ghosting me,” she admits. “I thought—I thought everyone was right.”

The words are like a shot to the heart.

“I should have known,” she adds. “God, I feel like such an idiot?—”

“No,” I interject. “Don’t you dare. You have every right to question things that don’t sit right, Olivia. Trusting yourself and your instincts is important in all this. And you were right to question me.”

She frowns, and the sight of it guts me. “Did someone hit you?”

“My nephew—Liam. He’s . . . no one is taking it well.”

She’s looking at me like I’m a wounded bird. Like she wants to care for me, and . . .Dammit. I need to do it right fucking now. I need to tell her this is over.

“Olivia,” I say. But then she’s hugging me, her arms wrapped tightly around me as her face presses into my neck.

She hugs me, and it feels like home.

I nearly buckle at the knees as I fumble to get my own arms around her.

“Where are you right now?” she asks, her mouth a hot jolt of lightning against my collar.

“Nowhere good,” I concede, squeezing my eyes shut against the anxiety barreling through me. The pain of losing her is already so potent, and it hasn’t even started yet.

But it will, because nothing good ever lasts. Whether I take control of it now or it takes control of me later, Iwilllose this.

I feel her still, the loss of her mouth against my skin enough to make me wince. But then she presses a soft kiss to my throat and I can’t help but lean into it, lifting my chin to give her more. “What can I do?” she asks, voice gentle and brave. So fucking brave.

I almost cry out in panicked frustration, realizing my hands are shaking as I lift them to pull her in close. I’m supposed to be ending this, telling her all the reasons I’m no good for her—especially with all that I’m about to do—but my hands have a mind of their own. “I need to quiet the noise,” I breathe out through clenched teeth. Even as I work to chase away the damning thoughts, I can’t catch a breath.

I need you.

“You have me,” she insists. I must have said it out loud. It would be embarrassing if I wasn’t already coming apart at the seams. Small, delicate hands slide up my jaw and I open my eyes to find her watching, her focus sharp and intent, studying me for the cracks that she can no doubt slip herself through. My beautiful, brave girl, ready to face my demons with me. “I’m right here, Rhett. You already have me. Do you feel this?” She presses my hand to her chest, to her beating heart. “I’m right here, baby.”

I take in the warmth of her sure eyes, the confidence in her hands as she holds me together, and finally suck down enough air to fill the lungs in my too-tight chest. I focus on the feel of her body against mine, on the cotton neckline of her dress, and let myself tip over the edge into the chaos.

I want her so bad it hurts.

“Tell me to stop,” I force out, trying to give her a chance to stop this now while I still have some semblance of control. I’m not sure what’s coming, but if the roaring beast inside of me is any indication, I’m about to lose it.

“No,” she says. Simple and clear. Her eyes flash with stubborn anticipation, and if I wasn’t currently spiraling, I’d reward her for it.

I stand, hooking my hands around the backs of her thighs as I rise to lift her with me. She gasps in surprise, but her legs wrap around my waist on instinct, and I turn to lay her down the length of my bike. “No pretending this time, peaches,” I say, voice raw and breaking with all the ways I’m still failing her. “Right now, I just need you to be mine.”

I don’t give her a chance to respond before my hands are under her dress, pulling the fabric up tight around her waist. She’s wearing a lacy black thong that looks tempting as hell, but I hold strong to a desperate ache to taste her and instead rip the fabric right off of her body.

She moans, but I don’t let myself enjoy the sound. This isn’t about her or her pleasure, it’s about me chasing away the monsters in the shadows of my mind that are threatening to take over. I hate myself for using her like this, for wrapping her so deep in my shit that she’s bound to it now. Where there’s light, there’s Olivia. But where there’s pain, she’ll be there now too. And it’s all my doing.

Dropping to my knees, I let my gaze bounce to her face for one fleeting moment of reprieve, finding her watching me with so much worry marring her beautiful face. Her concern is obvious, even as she shivers from the mix of cold air and the desire slicking her inner thighs.

I’m right here, baby.

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