Page 3 of Surrender
“What—”
“Darcy,” he cut in, his deep rumble vibrating through the air. “Come. Here.”
Two steps.That’s all I took before there were two strong arms circling my waist and lifting me off the floor, pressing my legs around his hips. I clung to Nate, his arms wrapped around me, being the only thing keeping me from shattering into pieces on the floor.
He held me like he was scared to let go.
And maybe I was scared as hell that he would.
But he crushed my body to his, so tightly that our breathing fell in time, and I was almost sure I could feel his heartbeat in my chest.
He fell back, landing with a bounce on the edge of my bed with my legs straddling his.
“We’ll get through it,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “I fucking promise.”
Nate’s presence was exactly what I needed. Warm, steady, and heartbreakingly familiar. He was the only person who could understand this gaping hole I could already feel tearing in my chest, knowing the next few weeks, months, or years—however long we had with James—were going to be devastating.
I pulled back just slightly, my forehead pressed to his and my hands curled around his neck.
It wasn’t careful or planned.
There wasn’t any kind of perfect pause or breathless lead-up that you saw in the movies. There were only two broken hearts searching for comfort.
His mouth found mine, his lips pressing so gently at first, like he was afraid to break me. So I pushed forward, forcing the connection to grow deeper, kissing him back for every glance, touch, and moment that we’d wanted this before but had held back.
It was sweet but hurried.
We pulled apart moments later, breathing heavy and still clutching tightly to one another.
And that was where we stayed.
For how long?
I couldn’t tell you.
But given the choice, I would have chosen forever, because in his arms, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter. A little less daunting. Like maybe if we held it up together, it wouldn’t completely crush us.
At least, that’s what I’d hoped.
That’s what he’d promised.
But promises were easily broken.
Chapter Two
DARCY
Twelve Years Later
“You look so worried,” Parker teased, reaching across and patting my leg gently before returning his eyes to the road ahead. “It’s going to be fine. My mom is going to love you.”
If we were being honest, I’d never met a boyfriend’s mom who didn’t love me, but I was happy to let him assume that was the reason for my sweaty palms and panicked breaths.
It was a convenient excuse.
Easier than explaining the history I had with the city flashing by on my left.
It was so close.
