Page 31 of The Girl I Once Loved

I can't help myself. My lips brush against hers for a moment, and I slide under the covers and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. She fits against me as if we were made for each other, and for a moment, it's like we're back in those high school days, when we thought we could conquer the world together.

I lay there beside her, the minutes stretching into hours, watching my Sky sleep. I’m entranced by the delicate lines of her face and the soft curve of her lips. My fingers tremble as they brush against her cheek, the sensation of her skin sending a rush of warmth through me. She's perfect, so perfect, and it's a stark reminder of just how much I've missed her.

My heart aches with a love that's never waned, a love that's only grown stronger in her absence. I can't help but think of all the moments we've lost, all the years we've spent apart, and it feels like a lifetime of regret weighing me down.

I've missed her laughter, the way her eyes would light up when she was excited about something. I've missed the feel of her hand in mine, the way she used to fit perfectly against me. I've missed her, every single day since she walked away.

But as I watch her now, her breathing steady and calm, I wonder if there's a chance to get her back. The thought lingers in the corners of my mind, a flicker of hope. Could we ever find our way back to each other? Could we heal the wounds of the past and start anew?

But then I brush the thought away, reality crashing down on me like a tidal wave. I hurt her, deeply and irreparably. I broke her heart…and if her feelings were anything like mine were…I broke her soul too. I can't justerasethe pain I caused. There's no way she'll forgive me, no way she'll want me back in her life.

I continue to touch her, to stroke her cheek with the lightest of caresses, savoring the feel of her under my fingertips. I commit every detail of her to memory, as if trying to capture this moment forever. The way her hair spills across the pillow, the way her lashes rest against her skin, the way her lips part in sleep—all of it is etched into my heart.

As I lay there with her, I realize how desperately I want to protect her, to keep her safe and happy. I want to make up for all the times I failed her, all the times I let her down. I want to be the person she can rely on, the person who makes her smile, the person who loves her with a depth that knows no bounds.

But for now, all I can do is watch over her, be here in this moment, and hope that one day she'll find it in her heart to forgive me.

As the first faint light of dawn begins to filter through the curtains, I know I have to go. I press a gentle kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering for a moment as if trying to convey all the words I can't find. Then, with a heavy heart, I slip out of bed, careful not to wake her.

I close the door behind me, my steps echoing in the empty hallway as I make my way out of the house. The weight of the night hangs heavily on my shoulders, and my body feels feverish…crazed from being that close to her. I wince as I adjust myself, feeling like my dick could batter through a wall.

As soon as I get up the stairs to my room, I’m in my small bathroom, turning on the water to scalding hot. I stand there, my dick throbbing, my nerves burning with restless energy. I’ve been getting off to the memory of her for years. But seeing her again…touching her skin…taking in her beautiful face….fuck, it’s so much better. My hand wraps around my dick, stroking it root to tip as I think about her kneeling in front of me—those ruby red lips wrapped around my dick, her hair slicked back, drops of water coating her perfect breasts. It’s the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. In my mind, it’s her hands stroking my cock, exploring me as she sucks on my head. Her rosy nipples peek out from under that stunning chestnut hair.

Fuck.

She slowly slides her hands up and down the length of me. And I’m going to die of agony. The smell of her is still coating my skin, even in the shower, like it’s permanently etched into me, like a tattoo.

“Noah,” she whispers, and my breath is coming out in gasps.

“It’s so good, baby,” I murmur as her lips move up my dick. Her pace increases, and I’m moaning her name as I fall over the edge, pumping hot cum into her mouth, so much that it drips out of her red lips, spilling down her chin and onto her breasts.

I cry out her name as I come for real, ropey cum hitting the wall of the shower in thick strands.

I haven’t had an orgasm like that since she left.

Fuck.

I don’t understand much about life or love.

But one thing I do understand…I’m never going to be over Skylar Ames.

And I don’t want to be.

Chapter Seven

Skylar

It’s a gorgeous day, like the sky wanted to be as perfect for Daisy as I do as we step into the quaint little bridal boutique in town. It's a charming space with ivy-covered walls and large windows adorned with delicate lace curtains. The scent of fresh flowers fills the air, and I can't help but smile at the cozy, inviting atmosphere. It’s Daisy’s first dress appointment, and I'm here to support her along with our mother.

Daisy could have easily flown in a designer dress from Paris with the endless resources at her disposal, thanks to Derrick's wealth. But at some point over the years, she fell in love with Thatcher’s Bay, and she insisted on having her dress made by a local designer.

Considering how small the island is, the bridal shop is actually a treasure trove of gowns, each one more exquisite than the last. Rows of elegant dresses in various shades of white and ivory beckon to us, like a chorus of whispered dreams. Soft music plays in the background, adding to the enchanting ambiance of the boutique.

Daisy's eyes sparkle with excitement as she approaches the racks of dresses, her fingers delicately tracing the fabric of one gown after another. "I can't believe I’m getting married," she whispers, her voice filled with a mixture of joy and nervous anticipation as she sips on the very expensive champagne Derrick sent over for the appointment.

I sling my arm around her waist and lay my head down on her shoulder. "It's going to be perfect, Daisy. You're going to be the most beautiful bride."

“I’m not worried about that part,” she says with a wink, and I bark out a laugh. Because of course she would say that.

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