“But it can, if you let it,” she says, stepping toward me. And this is where the challenge lies. Laney has a determination like no one I’ve ever met, and if I have any hope at all of walking away from this intact, I need to tread lightly. “We need to talk about what happened that night, Levi.”

  “We did talk about it.”

  “No,” she shakes her head vehemently. “I tried to talk about it and you blew me off.”

  “Fine. Talk,” I concede, leaning against the counter, knowing that this isn’t going to go well. She blows out a slow breath and looks up at the ceiling as though she’s praying for the strength to get through this. “Well . . .” I urge, wanting her to get on with it. If she insists on reopening these old wounds, the faster the better so I can close them back up . . . for good this time.

  “I made a mistake, a terrible one, and I want to make it right.” She takes another step toward me and I take one back. She sighs. “I should have never left. I should’ve stayed here, with you.” You’re damn right you should have. I bite down on my lower lip, trying desperately to keep my thoughts to myself. “I’m more than willing to take the fall, but let’s face it, you weren’t innocent in all of this either.”

  And that’s all it takes to set me off. Blood slowly rises, seeping into my cheeks, and I fist my hands at my side. “You left me,” I spit, pounding a fist into my chest as I step toward her. “You didn’t choose us. You chose to leave.”

  “But the ultimatum should’ve never been given,” she argues. “I wanted to be with you. I wanted to make it work, and yes, I know it was going to probably be the hardest thing we’ve ever done, but I was willing to try. I had faith in us.”

  She’s right. I know she’s right. I shouldn’t have given the ultimatum, but selfishly, I wanted her here with me, not thousands of miles away. And also, I just wanted her to pick me.

  “My mom left us,” I growl, looking away because it’s easier than looking her in the eyes. I hear her sharp intake of breath. I never told her this. She’d asked, but I never told her the truth because it hurt too much. The one woman who should have loved me unconditionally walked away.

  “You told me your mom died in a car accident,” she whispers. I look over and her eyes are glistening under the bright fluorescent lights. Telling her my mom died was the easy way out. Mason and I told all of our friends our mom had died, because to us, she did die. She cut us out of her life, so we cut her out of ours.

  “Yeah, well, I lied.” I shrug. “She left us. I was only twelve, and Mason was ten. Don’t”—I shake my head—“don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you pity me,” I snap, running a hand through my hair and down the back of my neck. “Don’t pity me. We’re better off without her, and—I’m getting off subject. I’m telling you this because I trusted her. She was my mother. She should have loved me and cared for me, no matter what. But she didn’t. She was selfish. She saw a better life for herself and she took it without batting an eyelash.”

  I can see the instant Laney registers what I’m saying to her because her hand flies to her mouth and she slowly starts to shake her head. “So you see,” I nod, not giving her the chance to talk. “You left, just like she did. You saw an opportunity to better your life and you took it. And you know what, I’m not even mad about it anymore because now I get it. I get why you did what you did, but it doesn’t mean I agree with it. And it certainly doesn’t mean that we can go back to what we were because I can’t put myself out there like that again. You broke my fucking heart, Laney. You shredded it in two and it took me eight years—eight goddamn years—to get over it. And you know what? Now that you’re home, I’m still not sure I’m over it.” I can see a flash of hope behind her wet eyes and I continue quickly. “I gave you the ultimatum because I wanted you to choose me. I was in love with you and I needed to know that, when push came to shove, I was your first choice.”

  “You were my first choice,” she sobs, running an arm across her tear-soaked face. “I didn’t want to choose. I wanted both, but you insisted so I made a rash decision, one that I’ve regretted every single day since the day I left.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I argue, remembering our conversation shortly after she left.

  Please pick up. Please pick up. “Hello?” her voice is soft, timid, and nothing like my Laney.

  “Laney, baby, thank God you answered. I’ve been trying to call you for days.” This is the third time I’ve called her today, and probably the hundredth time this week.

  “I know,” she says softly. I can tell by her thick voice that she’s been crying. I hate when she cries.

  “Please don’t cry, Laney. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” I take a deep breath, trying to remember what I’ve been rehearsing in my head for the past couple of days. When words fail me, I say ‘fuck it’ and go for broke. “I didn’t mean it, Laney. I didn’t mean to make you choose. I was just scared and afraid that I was going to lose you, which I did, and now I’m miserable. I need you, Laney. I miss you. You’re all I think about, baby, and I want you back.”

  “Levi—”

  “Just hear me out,” I interrupt, feeling like if I don’t get to say what I need to say, I’ll lose my chance. “We can make this work, but I can’t be away from you. Laney, I’ve done nothing but think about you. When I close my eyes, it’s your face that I see. I can smell your shampoo on my pillow when I lie down at night and I miss you, baby. Please let me make this right,” I beg, not caring one bit that I’m waxing poetic.

  “How are you going to make it right, Levi? You said yourself that we will never make it being this far apart, and I can’t move home. I need to do this, Levi. I have to do this.”

  “I know,” I plead, dropping my head into my trembling hand. “I know you have to do this, and I want to do this with you.”

  “You . . . you what?” Is she really that surprised? Does she not know that I wouldn’t drop absolutely everything to be with her? Of course she doesn’t. I’m the one that told her it could never work out if she left.

  “Don’t sound so surprised, Laney. I love you. I want to do this with you.” I stand up and pace the length of my room in a desperate attempt to calm my nerves.

  “But what about your classes? What about your degree? You’re so close to graduating, Levi. You can’t stop now,” she says incredulously.

  “Sure I can. I can get a job out there with you and we can work on getting you through school, and then when we come home, I can finish up my degree.” It really is that simple. Although when I mentioned it to my dad, I thought he was going to maim me.

  “Levi—”

  “It’s not a big deal, Lane,” I insist, wanting—needing—her to let me do this. “I work for my dad. I’m getting my degree so I can do a better job of running the businesses that are already going to be mine. My education can wait.”

  “Levi—” Resignation rings loudly through her quiet voice and dread settles low in my stomach. I push forward.

  “Let me do this, Lane. I need to be with you. God, I wish I would have never given you that ultimatum. That was so wrong of me and I’m so sorry for the way I acted. I need to see you and I need to make it right.” I’m putting my heart on the line, desperately hoping and praying that the woman who owns it still wants it. I can hear Laney breathing through the phone, but she’s quiet. Too quiet.

  “Laney? Do you forgive me? Please, can we please make this work?”

  “I forgive you, Levi. Of course I forgive you,” she breathes. A rush of air leaves my lungs. I didn’t realize just how badly I needed to hear that until she actually said it. “But we can’t make this work. I’m sorry.” My entire world stops spinning as her words plow into me. What does she mean we can’t make this work? I’m giving up everything to make this work.

  “We can. I’m going to move out—”

  “I don’t love you,” she whispers. Her voice breaks on the last word and a deep sob sounds through the phone. My hands to start to shake, my heart is beating wildly in my chest and I’m about two seconds away from completely losing it. She just confirmed my worst fear.

  “Laney. Please don’t do this,” I beg, hoping that maybe she’s just still upset from the ultimatum I gave her. I’ll never forgive myself for being so thoughtless. “I promise that I can make it up to you and I will make you happy.”

  “Levi . . .” Her watery voice is soft and it breaks my heart that I’m not with her right now, that we’re doing this on the phone. I want to hold her and comfort her, and if she really doesn’t love me, I want to look into her eyes when she tells me. “I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, Levi. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but what we had . . . it was young love, it was fun, but I’m ready to move on and I need to do it here, without you.”

  A stabbing pain shoots through the left side of my chest and I rub at it, trying to get the pain to stop. Emotion clogs my throat and I swallow hard, determined not to cry. I can’t believe this is happening. I know she never said the words, but never in a million years would I have believed that Laney doesn’t love me, and the fact that she’s reducing what we have to nothing but ‘young love’ tears me to fucking pieces.

  Laney is crying, begging me to forgive her, pleading with me to stay friends, but I can’t do that. I can’t just be her friend. Something deep inside of me—my heart maybe—is telling me that she’s full of shit, that she doesn’t mean it, and to push her on it, but my brain knows better. My brain remembers what it’s like to be tossed aside and it instantly kicks into survival mode.

  “Don’t you get it, Laney? I wasn’t your first choice, because you didn’t even love me.”

  “Don’t you get it, Levi?” she sobs, throwing my words back at me. “I lied. I lied because I loved you so damn much and there was no way I was going to let you put your life and your dreams on hold for me. I couldn’t do it.” She wipes angrily at the tears running down her face and my breath hitches in my throat, my heart skidding to an abrupt stop.

  “No.” I shake my head, refusing to believe her. “No. You didn’t love me. You said so yourself. We were nothing but young love—”

  “I had to make you believe me.” She steps toward me, her hands fisted together above her chest. “I knew what you were going to do, and I couldn’t let you throw everything you’d worked for away just for me and my dreams. I would have never forgiven myself for that, Levi . . . never.” She looks around and waves her hand in the direction of the restaurant. “And look at you now.” She smiles, blinking past the tears. “I don’t regret it, because look at you now. You’re successful and so very talented, and I’m amazed by what you’ve done.”

  I’m speechless. I have no idea what to say. In the past eight years, aside from that one fleeting moment when she’d first said those devastating words, I never let myself believe she was lying—that she was doing it to protect me and my future. And in all honesty, she’s probably right. I would’ve thrown away my dreams, and sure, I might still run Flame, but would Blue even be here? Would Mason and I be working toward opening up restaurants in other cities? Probably not, because I most likely would have never gone back to school.

  Spinning around, I blow out a slow breath. Does this change anything? Does the reasoning behind her decisions make this better? I’m not sure, but I can’t help but feel better about it somehow. Regardless, I’m still pissed as hell because that’s eight long years that we could’ve been together. I run a hand down the front of my face and close my eyes, absorbing everything that Laney just told me.

  “That night here at Flame,” I say, twisting toward her. “I told you I loved you, and you never said it back.” That’s probably what bothers me the most. She tells me that she loved me, she tells me that she said those things to protect me, but the night I first said those three little words, she never said them back.

  She shakes her head, the movement so slight that I almost don’t catch it. She takes two small steps forward, positioning herself directly in front of me. I swallow hard at the determined look in her eyes. I hope that I’m making the right decision—that I’m not somehow making yet another huge mistake. Because if she keeps pushing, I’m going to let her back into my life. Her eyes soften and she gives me a hesitant smile. Ever so slowly, she lifts her left hand. Her eyes drop to my chest and then snap back to my face, but I can’t take my eyes off of her . . . the girl that I gave my heart to all those years ago. I can hardly believe she’s standing in front of me, telling me that what we had was, in fact, love. She places her tiny hand over my heart and I suck in a breath, overwhelmed by what her touch still does to me.

  “Levi, I love you. I loved you then, I’ve loved you every single second of every single day for the past eight years and I’m going to love you until the day I die.” She rests her other hand on my cheek and I fight the urge to close my eyes. It hurts to look at her right now, but I can’t look away. “I will say it over and over again, every single day, until you believe me. You’re it for me, Levi. I can’t imagine spending whatever time I have left on this beautiful earth with anyone else but you. And I won’t spend it with anyone else except you.”

  “You don’t even know me anymore.” Except she does. I haven’t changed much and I bet she still knows all the important things.

  “I don’t see it that way.” She shakes her head, smiling wistfully. “Sure, there are things about the two of us that have changed, but the one thing that has stayed constant and true are my feelings for you. They haven’t wavered—not once.”

  Both tenderness and doubt fill me, and I hang my head. “I don’t know what to say, Laney,” I reply gently. “This is a lot to take in.” I look up and Laney nods, then nudges me backward until my butt hits the counter. I go willingly . . . of course I do.

  “Do you believe me?” she asks, hope in her eyes. “Do you believe that I lied to protect you? Even if you don’t agree with it, do you believe it?”

  “I want to believe it.” She nods, accepting my answer. And it’s true, I do want to believe her . . . and I think I do. It’s just a lot to take in, and even if I do believe her, does that change anything? Can we ever be more than friends again?

  Laney’s other hand trails up my neck, sending a shiver straight down my spine. Christ, her touch is amazing. I’ve been touched by a lot of women over the years—more than I’d like to count—but none of them compare to Laney.

  “Will you close your eyes for a second?” she asks, her eyes trained on my mouth. Oh no. No, no, no. I’m not sure I can handle this. Laney was always my addiction—my drug of choice, so to speak—and if she does what I think she’s going to do, I’ll never make it. I might as well throw in the towel now and hand her my balls on a silver fucking platter.

  “Why?” I whisper, hating that my body is already betraying me. Before she even answers, my eyelids drift shut and I feel her push up on her tippy-toes, the front of her body brushing lightly against mine. All of my concerns and fears quickly dissipate as if they were never even there, and instead I’m consumed with the feel of her fingers pushing into my hair and the steady beat of her heart against my chest. It feels good . . . too good. I tell myself to ignore the attraction, but it’s virtually impossible with her body squished up against me and the growing bulge between my legs.

  “I don’t want you to see the girl who made a terrible mistake when she walked away. I want you to feel the woman who came back, the woman who loves you so fiercely she can feel it in her bones.” The front of her body molds against mine and a low groan rumbles from my chest. I smell the sweet scent of her breath just before her soft lips touch mine. Heaven, help me—her lips are amazing.

  Aw, hell.

  Her mouth is warm, supple and so much more perfect than I remember. I pull back just a fraction. My hands move to her neck, my thumbs framing her jaw, and I angle my mouth over hers. When my tongue pushes between her lips, she lets out the sexiest little moan. Then she weaves her free hand into my hair and squeezes.

  There is nothing sexier than Laney when she’s on a mission, and right now that mission is me. I would’ve expected her movements to be hurried and frantic, what with everything we’ve talked about tonight, but they’re not. Her mouth is moving lazily against mine, and if my eyes were open, I’m certain they’d roll straight back into my head. She pulls back all too soon, pupils dilated. “Better than I remember,” she whispers, running her fingers over her swollen lips. I smile, loving that I made an impression and not at all because I’m a cocky little shit.

  She pushes away from the counter with a satisfied grin and turns away from me. My hand snaps out, catching her wrist before she gets too far. She stops, looking at me over her shoulder.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I ask.

  Her satisfied grin turns into a mischievous smirk. She pulls loose from my grip and saunters back toward me, not stopping until she’s invaded every bit of my personal space. Which, of course, I don’t mind at all. If there is anyone I’d want in my personal space, it’s this girl.

  She rests her hands on my chest and tilts her face to mine. “I’ve got to clean this kitchen up,” she says with a smirk. I look around and see that she’s right. This place is a disaster. The sink is full of dirty dishes and she’s managed to sprinkle flour on almost every surface of the kitchen, in addition to the chunks of dough scattered around the floor.

  “I’ll help you clean,” I offer, not quite ready to say goodnight. She shakes her head and grips my shirt in her hands. “What do you mean no?”

  “We’ve had a long night,” she says. I nod. She’s got that right. “We’ve successfully hashed out—”