Page 43 of From the Wreckage
Her smile softens as she peeks inside. She reads the card first, and my chest aches watching her eyes flick across the words.
Then she lifts the necklace from the box, the silver catching the light. She gasps, tears flooding her eyes. “You remembered.”
“Course I did.” My voice comes out rough. “You told me once, angel. That was enough.”
“Will you put it on me?” She turns, lifting her hair. My hands shake as I clasp the chain, the sunflower pendant resting against her warm skin. My knuckles brush her collarbone as I pull away, and she trembles.
When she faces me again, her lips part, her voice a whisper. “Everett…”
I don’t let her finish. I kiss her instead, slow and reverent at first, then deeper and harder until we’re both shaking.
Her body molds to mine, soft curves pressed against every hard edge. My hands slip beneath the hem of her shirt, dragging her closer. She moans into my mouth, and my restraint shatters.
I lift her, and her legs wrap around my waist like they’ve always belonged there. Carrying her to the couch, I lower us, finally breaking the kiss.
She looks up at me with blown pupils. Her lips are swollen from my mouth, her hands mapping my skin like she’s memorizing me.
“Everett…” she breathes, tugging me down.
I groan, kissing her hard, my hands roaming until I feel the warmth of bare skin beneath her shirt. She arches, a whimper leaving her lips, and I nearly unravel.
Her fingers tug at the waistband of my sweatpants. My breath hitches, my body jerking at the contact.
“Bri…” I capture her wrists gently, pinning them above her head, staring down at her. My chest heaves, and my damn pulse bangs like a war drum. “You’re killing me.”
“Don’t stop,” she whispers, lifting her hips into mine.
Christ.My vision tunnels. I lower my mouth to her neck, sucking lightly until she gasps, her nails clawing my back. The friction is devastating, every one of my nerves screaming to take more.
But I tear away, panting, my forehead pressed to hers. “Angel… if I don’t stop now, I won’t. And you deserve better than me taking you on this couch like I’m starving.”
Her hazel eyes flicker, wide and dazed. “Everett…”
I cup her cheek, softening my voice even though every muscle trembles with restraint. “You deserve a night where I cancherish every inch of you. Where I can show you just how much you mean to me.”
She blinks up at me, her lips parted, her chest rising hard against mine.
Slowly, she nods.
I kiss her once more—gentle and reverent—before forcing myself back, adjusting her shirt into place.
My knuckles brush her cheek. “You ruin me, angel,” I whisper.
And from the dazed, knowing smile curving her lips, I know she understands.
CHAPTER 30
Brielle
I don’t rememberhow long I lay in Everett’s arms on that couch, my pulse still racing, my body humming with a need that hasn’t faded. His scent—soap, cedar, and something that’s uniquelyhim—clings to me, grounding me even as I feel like I might float away.
He didn’t let it go too far. God knows I wanted him to. But the way he stopped… the way he whispered that I deserved more, that I deserved to be cherished… it shattered something inside me and put it back together in the same breath.
When he finally helped me sit up, I was flushed and trembling, but not from shame. From wanting him. From feelingwantedin a way Joey never made me feel. Not once.
Now, as I stand at his cabin door with his handwritten card clutched to my chest and the weight of his sunflower necklace warm against my skin, my heart aches. Leaving feels impossible, like tearing away a piece of myself.
He leans one arm against the doorframe, watching me with those molten brown eyes. The porch light throws shadows across his sharp jaw, highlighting the faint scruff that always makes my stomach twist.
