Page 63 of Summer's Echo
Chapter Twenty-six
Summer
December 2019
Walking into Echo’s place feltsurreal. I’d spent years wondering what his life looked like now, stitching together scraps of his life—secondhand stories, social media snapshots, and the one run-in with his sister. When I asked the simple question—how is he? Her answer was simple: He’s good. But now, I washere, in his space, in his world, for anundetermined amount of time.It felt bothinsaneandinevitableat the same time.
“Are you hungry? I was about to eat,”Echo said, pulling me from my daze.
I nodded.“Yeah. I could eat.”
He licked his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. My steps were slow, unsure, because…what now?
“Come in, Sunshine. I don’t bite. Make yourself at home.”He winked.“I’ll get your bags and show you around after we eat.”
I settled at the kitchen island, replying to text messages from my mother, my sisters, my friends—all checking to make sure I’d arrived safely. When Echo left St. Louis for LA a few months ago,I felt lost. Those few days together after my wedding disaster had changed everything, made itimpossible to return to the life I had built with Deshawn.I’d had half a mind to hop on the next flight after Echo, but I promised him that I would tie up my loose ends before stepping into this new beginning.
And I had. I took the weeks I would’ve been off for my honeymoon and spent them doingsome deep, painful soul-searching. Then, I did the hardest thing: I faced Deshawn. Our final meeting had beenawkward, yet oddly peaceful.We hadn’t spoken since that night in the sunroom, and now we were two people standing at the end of something that had never quite had a real beginning.
When I told him I was considering moving to LA,he wasn’t surprised.“You’re going after what you’ve alwayswanted,”he’d said, his voice calm but knowing.
And I knew exactly what he meant:Echo.When I slid the engagement ring across the table, he studied it for a long moment before pushing it back toward me.“Keep it,”he’d murmured, but I’d refused. I didn’t wantany part of my past tethering meto a life I no longer belonged to.
I took a sip ofthe deep red wineEcho had poured me, watching himmove effortlessly in his space—the way he plated our food, the way hisbroad shoulders flexed, the casual confidence in every movement. This was his world, and I wasfinally stepping into it.He carried the plates to the dining table and motioned for me to join him.He didn’t askabout Deshawn.Didn’t press foranswers about what came next. We simply existed together,enjoying each other.
After dinner, Echo gave me a tour of his condo.It was stunning.The floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of the city. The color palette wasdark and sophisticated, a balance of deep blues, rustic tones, and ivory—undeniably masculine but with a refined, homey touch.The kind of space that feltlived in, but not lonely.When he pulled me into his bedroom, I took in grown-man Echo.
“Your place is beautiful, E,”I said.
“Thank you.”He scanned the room as if seeing it through my eyes.“Kemi did her thing.”
My brows lifted.“Kemi decorated?”
He laughed.“Yeah. My sister’s got skills. Taxed the hell outta me for it, too.”
“Damn. She’s good.”
“Yeah. She’s killing it. Already got a few celebrity clients under her belt.”He paused, eyes tracing my face.“You wanna change, get cleaned up?”
I nodded, and he directed me to the bathroom.“I’ll be in the living room. I want to show you something when you’re done.”
Fresh from the shower,wrapped in his robe, smelling like him, I moved down the hallway, drawn toward the soft glow of the city beyond his windows.Echo stood there, glass of wine in hand, the skyline reflecting in the window.He didn’t turn when he spoke.
“You good?” he asked, reaching for me to come to him. I obliged, quickly diminishing the space between us.He lifted his glass to his lips then pressed a slow kiss to my temple.
I melted against him.“Mm-hmm,”I hummed.“I’d be even better if I had another glass of wine.”
“I got you. Come on.”He slid open the patio door, leading meoutside, then up a winding staircase.
When I reached the top, Ilost my breath.Therooftop was magnificent.The view stretched wide and endless, city lights flickering below,casting a soft glow. Apergola draped in soft lightsframed an oversized couch and two lounge chairs. Astone pathway led to a small heated pool and Jacuzzi, its surface reflecting the moonlight. Afire pit flickered nearby, warmth combating the crisp night air. And on the couch sata tray with an open bottle of wine and an empty glass waiting for me.
I turned to him,awestruck.“E…this is amazing.”
“I thought you’d like it.” He moved behind me, pressing his body into mine,his warmth chasing away the night’s chill.
His lips found the curve of my neck,soft, unhurried and deliberate kisses.His hands tracedthe familiar path of my body, exploring me, remembering me,claiming me. When he untied the robe and realizedI was bare beneath it,his breath faltered.
He groaned, his voice raw, wrecked.
