Weston (Broken Falls #6)

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Melanie

I 'm not nearly as drunk as I'm pretending to be, but once all the ladies started getting lit and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to drink anymore, I just acted like it was affecting me more. Not to mention, it's allowing me to be completely honest with Weston. So often, I watch my mouth with him, and right now, I don't want to. Right now, I want to feel him. I want to be his wife. It gives me the courage to be who I really am and who I want to be.

He and I stare at each other. My pulse is pounding both at my neck and between my thighs. He walked into this place like he owned it, and damn if that wasn't a turn on.

The night air crackles with a tension that's electric as Weston lifts me effortlessly off the barstool, throwing me over his shoulder. His arms, strong and steady, are a reminder of the safety I once felt and the fire that still simmers beneath the surface of what once was a great love that we thought would last forever. Although I'm not nearly as drunk as I appear; perhaps I'm intoxicated by his presence, the way his mere proximity ignites something primal within me. Being with Weston tonight, surrounded by the chaos of Monroe's, feels like peeling back layers to reveal the raw, unfiltered ache that has lingered between us for so long.

As he lowers me into the passenger seat of his truck, I spread my legs, a willful invitation, making space for him that feels both physical and symbolic. His presence between my thighs is a deliberate choice, a vulnerability I'm ready to embrace. His hand cradles my cheek with a tenderness that juxtaposes the weight of his words, drawn from the depths of his soul and so sincere it almost undoes me.

"I would kill myself to save you. I don't know that you understood that when you left, but I would have. I still would. I've never loved anybody the way I loved you." Those words are ripped from his throat as if they are an oath he'll swear his life on.

Those words slam against my heart, unlocking everything I've kept locked inside. The tears flowing down my cheeks are not a flood of sorrow; they are a release. I've yearned for this, to see him, to really see him. It's a balm, soothing the raw wounds that have never quite healed. I can't find the words, but my body knows what to say. I lean into him, arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer in a silent plea as I claim his lips with mine.

This kiss is a declaration. It's surrender and a promise. Weston’s hands grip my hips with an urgency that matches my own fervor, pulling me closer until our souls collapse into one another, tangled in breath and longing. My fingers traverse the tight expanse of his abdomen, feeling the heat and strength beneath his skin. We move with desperation as if each second apart has been leading us to this singular, exquisite moment of reconnection.

But the catcalls from our friends pierce the haze of desire, dragging us back to reality. With shared, hooded eyes filled with heat and unspoken promises, Weston whispers, "We got to get out of here."

"Yeah," I murmur, my voice husky and low. I bite my bottom lip, trying to contain the raging desire that threatens to consume me. "Take me home, Weston."

His gaze meets mine, searching for the depth of my commitment, a mixture of longing and hope reflecting in those dark eyes. "Is that what it is? Yeah? Is my house your home? If we do this, if I let you have this piece of me, are you going to be honest with me? Are you going to tell me what the fuck happened so we can heal now? 'Cause I want us to heal. I want what we could have had and I'm begging you, will you allow us to heal?"

The weight of his hope presses heavy on my chest, but I'm done running, done hiding from what my heart craves. I nod, almost trembling with the need to reassure him. "Yes," I promise. "Give me one night with you, and I'll tell you everything."

"Okay." His response is simple, yet it reverberates with the power of all that's been left unsaid between us.

As he closes the door and jogs around to the driver’s side, I feel the knot in my stomach tighten. It's not fear, but anticipation for the life I want to forge with him, a life I've foolishly let slip through my fingers once, but one I will reclaim, not with timid steps, but with a fierce, unyielding heart ready to fight for us. "Let's go home."