Page 56 of Wish I Didn't Want You Back

I arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

She folded her hands tightly in her lap. “Maybe you’ll go back to being grumpy in the morning, but right now, it feels like you don’t actually hate me.”

I should have shut this conversation down. Found something else to talk about. Maybe remind her that this was nothing more than an arrangement, but I couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Say something,” she pleaded.

I sighed, running a hand over my jaw. “I told you before, I don’t hate you, Harlow.”

She blinked, like she couldn’t believe I just admitted that. “I would understand if you did.”

“I don’t. I never could. It was easier to pretend that I did.”

Harlow had no idea how broken I was after she left. No matter how much she tried to make up for it, the pain was buried too deep inside me to fully move beyond it.

She sat beside me, tapping her feet on the floormat. I wasn’t sure if she even realized she was doing it.

I heard her sniff quietly. “You probably won’t believe me when I say this, but the truth is, you were always there in the back of my mind. Being apart didn’t make me love you any less; it only made it hurt more.”

I exhaled slowly. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth. I’m tired of pretending that I don’t feel anything when I feel everything.”

I kept my eyes on the road while trying to steady my heart. “I don’t know how to do this with you, Harlow. You made me feel like I wasn’t worth fighting for.”

“I know. It’s been my biggest regret.”

I pulled the truck over to the side of the road and threw it into park so I could face her.

I shouldn’t have stopped. I should have kept driving. I should have remembered all the reasons why we shouldn’t be having this conversation.

Instead, my thumb reached out to trace the corner of her cheek. Harlow’s skin was soft and familiar. I trailed my hand down to her jaw, tightening slightly and forcing her face toward mine.

Her breathing picked up, and it was hard to miss how her pupils dilated. “Brooks. Why are you looking at me like you want to kiss me?” she asked, sliding her hand up my arm.

This wasn’t what I planned, but right now I didn’t give a damn. I was already hanging on by a thread.

My grip on her jaw tightened. “What if I do?”

She didn’t answer me; she simply moved as close as possible with the console between us. “Then maybe you should stop thinking so hard and do it.”

I gripped the back of her head with one hand and lifted her across the seat with the other until there wasn’t a single inch of space between us. I was done second-guessing. Done being afraid. No more fighting this.

I smashed my mouth against hers. These feelings have been bottled up for too long to keep fighting them.

She tightened her fingers in my hair and rocked her hips into mine like she needed more. The space was cramped, but we were both too starved for it to care.

She gasped into my mouth while I ran my hands along her sides like a man who had gotten a second chance and had no intention of wasting it. My tongue swept against hers, urging her on. The taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, and the way she moaned were driving me insane.

My hands continued to roam, like I was relearning her curves all over again. I wanted to feel every inch of her.

I dragged my lips from her mouth, tracing a path with my tongue along her jaw to that sensitive spot behind her ear. She let out a sharp hiss, and I smiled in satisfaction at how well she responded to me.

“Tell me to stop.” I pleaded.

“No.”

Before I could get another word out, her mouth was on mine again. We kissed for what felt like hours. We were both breathing so hard that the windows started to fog up.

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