His mouth descends on the curve of my neck. It’s a desperate, hungry kiss before his mouth softens, trailing a line of kisses down my throat.

  “You talk as though we have no time in the world,” I manage to say.

  Roman rolls his hips against mine. I let out a soft whimper, grinding for more.

  “I lost you once, I won’t make that mistake again.”

  My legs shake at those words. The passion behind his pleading words. He wants me.

  He truly wants me.

  Roman’s mouth descends the skin of my neck down to my chest, kissing my breasts with equal fervour. His large, rough hands trail the sides of my waist before his mouth reaches the area between my thighs.

  “Roman, what are you -“

  He looks up from under his lashes, pinning my thighs down, baring my core for his view.

  “Do you trust me?” He rasps roughly. The faint coolness of his breath tickles my heated core.

  “I…I do but I’ve never done this before.”

  He strokes my legs, this thumb drawing soothing circles on my skin, instantly relaxing me. “Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  His mouth grazes my swollen core and I gasp at the sensation of his cool lips touching my heated skin. He’s teasing me. Taking his sweet time to torture me out of -

  “Fuck!” I moan sharply.

  I can’t even think. I can barely pull myself together. I’m a complete mess in his hands, unfurling and unlacing at his command. His hot tongue licks fervently between my folds like a man starved, relentlessly tasting every inch of me.

  My hand clutches his hair tightly and I wonder if it’s hurting him but he merely grunts, encouraged by my response as he eats me out harder, moving his tongue between my folds and at a dangerously close distance to my clit. He barely skims that swollen area, desperate for his touch and I can barely hold back my whine of protest.

  “Roman, please,” I clutch at the fabric of the couch. Something. Anything to get a control over myself.

  Roman looks up, a devastating, handsome smirk on those gorgeous lips. “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

  The sight of him between my legs should be illegal.

  It is pure sin.

  “More,” I pant heavily. “I need more.”

  “Like this?” He murmurs deeply. His mouth sucks harshly on my clit and it takes all of my power not to see stars right there and then.

  “Roman -“ I gasp harshly, closing my eyes tightly, pushing down my approaching release.

  Not now.

  I need more.

  “Or do you want my fingers inside of you?” He inserts one finger inside while his mouth is devoted to my swollen clit, kissing and sucking passionately as he adds another finger, creating a delicious rhythm. He groans roughly, the vibrations tingling against my sensitive skin. “I can’t get enough of your taste, Ken.” Roman continues his ministrations but at a faster pace, watching me from below, with that hooded, dark gaze.

  Fuck, the way he’s looking at me…it’s every inch the hungry predator devouring his prey.

  Yes, please.

  I thrust my hips towards his face, shameless in my need for his tongue and rough touch.

  The relentless swipes of his tongue against my clit, the pace of his fingers moving around inside of me, searching for that spot…it’s enough to drive me insane. He continues and continues until I feel the familiar clench, the tickle of my g-spot.

  Oh, right there.

  My whimpers of pleasure are answer enough for him.

  He curls his fingers inside, his tongue, firm and wet, licking back and forth on my swollen nub that desperate gasps are the only sounds that leave my mouth.

  “That’s it, baby,” he quickens his thrusting. “Come, baby. Come for me. Give it to me.”

  My body sharply contracts at his husky praises, desperate, broken gasps that leave my lips, building and building into larger, tighter convulsions until my pussy finally clenches around his fingers, desperately riding the wave of my crashing orgasm.

  “Fuck!” I scream, arching my back. Roman continues his ministrations, refusing to let me run away from my release, instead prolonging the feeling of euphoria washing through my aching body. The sparks of pleasure soar all over my skin.

  He leans over, kissing me softly on my lips. It’s intimate. A silent message of the passion he feels in those eyes, the desire to never let me go, the need to have me close. It’s all there. Right in the way he touches me. I feel it everywhere.

  He moves up, picking me up in his arms as he carries me bridal style.

  “Where - where are you taking me?”

  “To hold you hostage in your room and have my wicked way with my girl.”

  “Your girl?”

  He flashes me a teasing, sharp stare. “If that wasn’t clear before, it’s clear I didn’t do my job right. I’ll fix that.”

  “I’m sore, you big protein shake,” I smack his chest lightly.

  He tightens his arms around me and I squeal at the ticklish sensation. Roman skims his nose against my jawline. “I’m a patient man.”

  Oh boy. The way my stomach flutters tells me his reputation as a heartbreaker is no joke. Not by a long shot.

  “My room is there,” I smile weakly, pointing.

  “Eager, aren’t we?” he smirks as he kicks the door behind him shut.

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  “I can’t believe we did that,” she breathes.

  We’re both lying down on her bed, recovering from the hour or so of non-stop passion and kisses. I was making up for lost time and I still don’t feel satiated. Seeing Kennedy is just impossible to do without wanting to grab her close, smelling her vanilla shampoo, feeling her soft skin under my hands, anything to be near her.

  I spent all those years being an absolute dick to her. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to her.

  Her wild hair is splayed on the bed, casting a crown that makes her look like every inch of the queen she is in my mind. Her soft brown eyes turn to me. My heart flips, beating wildly.

  “I never thought this would ever happen,” she murmurs.

  “Do you wish it didn’t happen?” I trail my finger across her collarbone. A sinking feeling in my heart prepares me for a harsh answer, a rebuttal of everything we shared and for her to declare this is nothing more than sex.

  Because I’d have to accept it, wouldn’t I?

  If she doesn’t want me, I have to accept my fate.

  Every second feels like heavy torture.

  “I have no regrets, Roman,” she shivers as my touch reaches the centre of her chest.

  I don’t let my feelings get carried away but my heart soars regardless. “What I said earlier,” I watch her expression. “I meant every word. This is real for me. The feelings I have for you have always been there and I…I don’t want to forget this. I get you may not be where I am and I’m not going to push you but I need to know if it’s one-sided. If I’m alone on this.”

  She watches me intently. “You want to know if I have feelings for you?”

  “Yes,” I say without blinking.

  “Didn’t the last hour show you my feelings?” She lowers her gaze but I place my finger under her chin, refusing to let her hide.

  If there’s rejection, I’ll learn to handle it. It’ll fucking rip me apart but she doesn’t need to know that, she doesn’t need to see it either; I don’t ever want her to feel like she’s trapped with me, that I can’t let her make her choice.

  A choice to leave or stay.

  Another selfish part of me screams silently at the back of my head, admonishing me at the idea of taking a step back.

  You worked so hard to find her, to get her back, and you’d let her walk away? You’d let her go that easily?

  No, you wouldn’t, would you?

  I push down those thoughts. I can’t let my possessiveness or jealousy decide; it’ll only push her away like before.

  “Kennedy,” I say.

  She meets my stare, biting her lip. Oh God, she doesn’t feel the same. Right?

  “I’m scared of saying my feelings out loud,” she whispers.

  “Why?” I rasp.

  “Because I don’t want my heart to get broken.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve hurt me before, Roman. So many times that it’s all I know of our time together. I know people can change and I want to believe the same for you, I really do, but I can’t just forget so quickly…I can’t let my guard down when it’s been crushed before.”

  Of course.

  She’s right.

  I was a fool thinking it’d be that easy, that the memories would fade away and not linger like angry, red marks on her mind. There’s no-one to blame but myself. The dull, thudding feeling hits my chest, cementing the sinking feeling that tells me it’s over, that she doesn’t want to know.

  “I fucked up,” I murmur.

  She leans forward, her fingers skimming my cheek and I instinctively lean into her gentle touch. My mind may tell me to back away, to keep a safe distance but my heart…my heart is the most traitorous one of them all; it refuses to cower and hide. It demands to feel.

  “But I do want to tell you. You have to promise me you won’t hurt me,” she searches my gaze desperately.

  I kiss her firmly, tenderly, pouring all my love into it. She’s left breathless, watching me with a dazed look.

  “I promise to never fuck this up, I promise you Kennedy Hinch.”

  “You might mess things up, you know,” she smiles softly.

  “I won’t.”

  “It happens,” she shrugs noncommittally but I can see the guarded reservation behind those eyes.

  “I make sure to kick my own ass if that happens but I’ll work my damned hardest to make you the happiest girl. I need to know, Ken. Tell me,” I stroke the side of her face.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she says. “Since that day I saw you at the game, you’ve been driving me crazy. My heart goes out of its mind when you’re near and wonders where you are when you’re gone. I’m such a sucker,” she closes her eyes, groaning.

  “You’re not,” I say firmly. She peeks open her eyes.

  “I’m not?”

  “It’s the fucking best thing I’ve heard all my life,” I say earnestly.

  “I might not be where you are but…” she looks down before glancing up. “I just need time. You gotta convince me you want this. That you want this.”

  “I’ll spend the rest of my life making you feel exactly how much I love you,” I rasp.

  Her eyebrows rise up. “L-love?”

  “I’m not ashamed to say it. I’ve been in love with you for longer than the day we met at the game. I’ve loved you since high school and I won’t apologise for it.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she gapes at me in shock.

  “Just say you’re not going to run away,” I stare at her with an unflinching gaze.

  “Roman -“

  “Please, Ken,” I say hoarsely. It’s pathetic, I know, but I can’t lose her. I just can’t.

  Kennedy stares back without fear, nodding softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Roman Johnson.”

  My heart swells with an overwhelming fullness.

  This is all I wanted.

  All I needed.

  Is it too good to be true?

  Whatever it is, I’m holding on tightly.

  I’ll be damned if I ever let you go.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  “Shut the front door!”

  A loud feminine voice squeaks from the front door of the coffee shop. My eyes flash to that direction, widening in surprise.

  No freaking way.

  “Madison?” I blurt out.

  She walks over, striding past the customers who gawp at her in confusion. She’s dressed head to toe in the classiest clothes I’ve ever seen; a tailored kitsch blazer, along with a matching black and white skirt and heels. Her blonde hair is up to her shoulders, curled to perfection.

  I’m expecting a frosty reception but she actually smiles.

  Not a smile curled in anticipation of making me miserable.

  Just a gentle smile at seeing a familiar face.

  Okay.

  I’ve entered a parallel universe.

  That has to be the logical explanation here.

  “I cannot believe I’m seeing you here,” she smiles. “Kennedy Hinch. Time has really flown by. How are you?”

  My dumb self just replies like it’s a normal situation. “Erm..good. You?”

  “I’m doing very well. Can I sit?”

  I nod. She smiles gratefully, taking her seat opposite. My matcha latte is lukewarm and provides no comfort for my hands. Madison tilts her head, still with that butter-wouldn’t-melt smile. Maybe she has a twin. Madison and…Addison? It wouldn’t be the craziest thought. It makes more sense than this being the Madison Miller who hated my guts.

  “I…I don’t mean to sound rude but why are you here?”

  Madison inhales softly. “I heard Roman bumped into you.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she replies instantly. The smile disappears. Her face is cool and collected.

  Now it makes sense. “So you’re here to warn me away. Telling me to know my place and keep my hands off your boyfriend.”

  “Please,” she rolls her eyes. “We’re not in high school anymore. Roman is his own man. He doesn’t need me to tell him who can and can’t see.”

  “This sounds a bit out of character for you.”

  “Would you believe me if I said I’ve matured?” She smirks.

  “No.”

  She scoffs lightly. “Suppose you’d be right. I couldn’t give a care in the world about what you do.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” She narrows her eyes.

  “Forgive me if I’m not jumping with pleasantries but you were a complete bitch in high school. As far as I can tell, you’re still the same Madison to me. I’m sure that’s not true but I don’t have any inclination to be friendly to you.” I cross my arms, lifting my eyebrow pointedly.

  She shrugs, leaning back on her chair. She places her Chanel handbag on the table. A power play or a sign of dominance. I wouldn’t put it past her.

  “I’ll ask you again - why are you here?”

  “Well, if you must know I was actually passing by and not stalking you - despite what your ego probably thinks. I do live around here, you know.” She crosses her legs, checking her manicure. She glances at me. “Although, I did hear that Roman bumped into you at the USC game. It piqued my interest - are you guys dating?”

  “No,” I blurt out.

  Well, that’s not true.

  Are we dating?

  What do we even call what happened the other night?

  A moment of passion? A fleeting situation of lustful desires colliding together?

  No, it was more than that.

  But I can’t say we’re dating.

  I don’t know…I don’t know what we are.

  She doesn’t look convinced.

  I bristle, stiffening my shoulders. “What does it matter?”

  “It doesn’t but he was my boyfriend. You can’t blame me for being curious.”

  “So you’re just here to satisfy your curiosity.”

  “Did you expect me to ask us to be friends?” She scoffs.

  I clench my jaw. “Not at all.”

  “Good because we’ll never be friends. But I suppose the best I can do is not open my mouth and say what’s on my mind. I can do that much for you.”

  “That’s an upgrade,” I say dryly. “It must kill you inside not to treat me like shit.”

  Madison simmers down at that, her shoulders slackening. She almost looks…remorseful. Almost. “I treated you horribly. I…I really hated you back then.”

  “And not now?”

  “Not now,” she looks at me earnestly. Her lips tighten. “Not that it changes anything but if it makes any difference, I’m not that person now. Don’t get any ideas though - I’m not Mother Theresa and we’re certainly not going to be friends - probably ever - but…I do regret how I acted.”

  My mouth drops. “Are you apologising?”

  “No!” She straightens her back. She lifts her nose haughtily in the air.

  “Right,” I roll my eyes.

  But she softens again. “Have you spoken to anyone from Mountford since -“

  “No,” I shake my head. I fiddle with the napkin on the table. “Although I still text Gina. Aside from her, it’s just you and Roman I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”

  Madison’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Gina? I didn’t know you two were that close.”

  My eyes flash to hers. “She wasn’t a total asshole like you were.”

  “Touché.”

  I inhale deeply. The amount of Mountford reunions I’m having is enough to give me whiplash. Roman, Madison…who next?

  Kyle?

  No. Not him.

  Since graduation, we haven’t spoken. He pretty much disappeared off the face of the earth. No contact, no text, no nothing - he moved out of Mountford, God knows where. I asked Gina but she shrugged, not knowing either. Apparently he wanted to get away and that included keeping his location under wraps.

  I could have asked Roman but then I remember his boiling jealousy. That wouldn’t have gone down well.

  I might be crazy asking this but Madison might have an idea.

  She might know where he is.

  “Do you…do you still speak to Kyle?"

  Her eyes are sharp. "Kyle?"

  “Yes.”

  A heavy silence weighs on us both.

  “Why are you asking about him?” She says carefully.

  “It’s just a question but if you’re going to be weird about it, forget it.”

  “Ask Roman,” she crosses her arms.

  We both stare at each other, knowing full well the answer to that. She’s aware of how that would go down. In fact, she probably knows more than I do. That temper that ignites whenever Kyle is mentioned in the same sentence as me.

  “You know why I can’t,” I say.