Page 136 of Not Over You

We could barely keep our hands off each other when we were together, and I loved that she always made me feel so wanted. Paisley made me feel needed. What we had was not just physical, but when it got physical, it was like nothing else. Not that I have much to compare it to—I slept with one other woman at a party when I was drunk once, and no one else since her. Just thinking of touching someone else this way or letting them touch me—it just never felt right to me.

“Did you mean it?” she whispers against my chest, kissing the tattoo she asked me to get when we were sophomores in college.

“Mean what, baby?” I wonder, brushing my hands through her mussed hair.

Paisley sits up a little and bites her lip, looking shy. My girl is never shy. Especially not with me. But when I frown and she rolls her eyes, I understand. And I smile and swat her bare ass.

“Yes, I meant it. I never even...I mean I guess I flirted a little, thought about a date but I just never did it. I couldn’t do it. You are the only woman I ever brought here.”

“Where is here, by the way? We didn’t uh,” she flushes and laughs, lifting her head to playfully peer around, “get very far.”

Swatting her ass again, I kiss her and stand, laughing with her when she shrieks. Cradling her naked body against mine, I carry her around the house, giving her a quick tour. We wind up in the shower downstairs, where the master bedroom is. I tell her I never had plans for the three bedrooms upstairs, but it’s not entirely true.

My plan when I bought this place was always to bring Paisley back home to it. To make it our home. It was selfish of me because I always knew she wanted to go to the city. At that birthday party, if I hadn’t ruined things, I would have asked her to come here with me. I knew she would love it and I could have asked her to stay. I could not have done that to her then and I shouldn’t do it now, but I can’t help it.

Now all I want is to be with her, selfish or not.

“You hungry babe? I didn’t feed you like I said I would.” I frown because already I am being selfish with her.

“I am hungry. Will you make me your burritos? That sounds so good right now,” she suggests as she hops atop the kitchen island.

Wrapped up in a fluffy robe with her long honey hair piled atop her head, she looks fresh faced and beautiful. God, I don’t deserve her. But I love her. I loved her since I was fifteen and I will love her until I am in the ground. I just need to figure out how to love her so it doesn’t hurt her.

“I will make you whatever you ask,” I answer, kissing her pink lips before I open the fridge.

As I grab all the things I need to make her favorite breakfast burrito, I recall the first time I cooked for her. I had a fight with my dad about not wanting to work at the dealership. I was too focused on being a high school kid, playing football, and hanging with Connor and Paisley. I went to her house because when I needed someone, it was always her.

Her parents were gone on one of their romantic getaways, so we had the place to ourselves. She let me talk for hours about how I did not want to sell cars like some schmuck and how all I wanted to do was play football. I cooked for her and when she sat on the counter, like she is now, smiling and telling me I could play football or sell cars and she’d still be there, I knew I was in trouble.

Paisley said it so simply, and I knew I loved her then.

“You know the first time I made you these,” I say now as I cut up the cilantro and scramble the eggs with some spices, “I needed you that night so badly. No one else would have told me what I needed to hear. Because I just needed you to tell me you would always be there. I needed to know that.”

I go to her as the eggs cook, stepping between her thighs and laying my head at her chest. Paisley sighs softly, wrapping her arms and legs around me. It feels so right to hold her, to have her holding me. It’s been so long but it feels just the same.

“I meant it, baby,” she whispers, “even if I forgot it for a while.”

Cradling her face in my hands, I kiss her softly, savoring the sweetness of her, the way she breathes heavier, the way her tongue sneaks out to lick at my lips shyly before she pushes in greedily. I fist her damp hair in my hand, tipping her head back to take my kiss, to let me lick into her mouth and stroke her tongue. When we break apart, we are both panting, her face flushed and her eyes wild as the gaze up at me.

Fuck, I love her—and I can’t be without her again.

Lifting her from the counter, I carry her to the table after I make us two huge burritos. She laughs that she won’t be able to eat it all, but I know my girl. We sit at the table, talking about all the times I cooked for her, and all the filthy things I did to her after I fed her. By the time we’ve cleaned our plates, I have her spread out on the table for my favorite desert—the pie between her legs.

After I make her come twice, I carry her to bed, telling her I don’t want her to go. When she cuddles up next to me, her body bare and marked from us making love, she tells me she doesn’t want to go. I stay awake as long as I can, watching her sleep, thankful I get to have this again. I don’t know how long I will get to have it, but I have something in mind.

This time, I want this—and her—forever.

CHAPTER 9

Paisley

* * *

Sneaking around with the love of your life is more fun than I expected.

For weeks, Bran and I talked as if we were strangers, but he says he knew it was me the first night we spoke. After showing some of my recent art, he said he was certain it was me. To be honest, I think he was right when he teased me that I knew it was him too. After we talked about songs and things we like or dislike, I think I got so comfortable so fast because it was like talking to him again.

Bringing up how I missed him, how I wished I could talk to him, it was my way of telling Bran I knew I was partly to blame for the years I stayed away. I am angry at myself, not at him, for how I handled those years. It was my home too, and Hailee and Connor were my friends too. I gave up on them and getting to know their kids because I was a coward.

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