Chapter 5
five
. . .
HARRISON
Jeremy turned toward me. His gaze was blown wide, only a rim of hazel remained. His chest rose and fell, each inhale and exhale measured like he was counting them … in for three, out for three.
From the other room, I heard the heater click on. Outside, snow blasted against the brick.
I tried to swallow, but my throat was suddenly bone dry. “Jeremy?” His name came out low and rough, a murmur that scraped against my throat.
A question.
Maybe an invitation.
No, definitely an invitation.
He went still, eyes flicking to my mouth, then back up to my eyes. He dragged his tongue across his bottom lip, and the sight sent heat straight through me. His fingers curled at his sides, then uncurled, like he was fighting with himself.
With me.
But he’d said we were done fighting.
God, I’d give anything to see him surrender.
Lord knew I already had.
I moved forward without deciding to. One step, then another. Close enough to smell winter clinging to his flannel—pine needles and woodsmoke filled my lungs, and underneath, soap and skin and … him.
“Jeremy,” I whispered, softer this time. Please, touch me.
As if he read my mind—or maybe he just needed this as badly as I did—he closed the space between us in two long strides.
“Fuck it,” he growled, his fist bunching in my sweater as he yanked me against him. His mouth met mine again, seventeen years overdue.
His teeth caught my lower lip, his kiss turning hot and demanding, years of pent-up fury turned into want.
It wasn’t careful or sweet. It was everything we’d never said, everything we’d buried, clawing its way to the surface.
He kissed me like he was furious about wanting me.
Like he’d been waiting years to do it again, and hated himself for it.
I just kissed him like he was mine.
My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging until he made a low, guttural sound that vibrated through my chest and shot straight down. Blood rushed south so fast I was nearly dizzy with need.
I broke the kiss, gasping, our foreheads coming together. His ragged exhales were hot against my mouth.
“What are we doing?” I managed, my voice cracking on the last word.
The corner of his mouth quirked up into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Catching up.”
Then his mouth crashed back to mine, a brutal dance of teeth and tongue that tasted of anger and desperation. His hands gripped my hips, the edge of the counter biting into my lower back as he moved forward, pinning me there with his weight.
I met his ferocity with my own, pulling him closer, my fingers digging into the hard muscle of his back. I could feel his cock, hard and insistent, grinding against my hip as he rolled his body into mine. Every nerve ending was on fire, decades of want burning through my veins.
“Fuck,” he growled against my mouth, his hands fisting in my sweater. “I can’t—” He broke off, his forehead dropping to my shoulder, his whole body bow tight. His breath came in harsh pants against my neck.
“Jeremy?” I whispered, my hands gentling on his back.
He pulled away slightly, just enough to meet my eyes. His pupils were blown wide, his lips swollen from kissing. “I want you to fuck me.”
The words hit me right in the gut. Hard. Unexpected.
Before, he’d always been the one fucking me. Once, I’d called him on it, teased him about thinking it was ‘too gay,’ but he’d only laughed and said, “Nah, I just want to crawl inside your body and live there.”
I stared at him now, trying to catch my breath, trying to understand what he was offering. This didn’t feel like it was just about sex. This was Jeremy giving me something he’d never given before—and maybe never would again.
“Come upstairs,” I said quietly, extending my hand.
Jeremy reached out and laced his fingers with mine, letting me lead him. If this really was goodbye, I wanted to savor every moment, to show him what I could never put into words.
Our footsteps echoed on the wood treads, the third stair from the top creaking loudly beneath our weight.
In my bedroom, I turned to him, my thumb tracing the line of his jaw before I leaned in. His lips parted under mine, softer than before, his breath catching when I pulled away.
“I need you to know something.” I moved toward my nightstand, needing the distance to get the words out. “I haven’t been with anyone since I moved back to Mistletoe Bay.” I dragged open the drawer, revealing an unopened box of condoms and a half-empty bottle of lube.
I hadn’t set out to be celibate. But being back in the town where I’d fallen in love for the first time made casual hookups feel impossible. And once Jeremy moved home? The idea of being with anyone else became unthinkable.
“I know we never used protection before, but we’re not kids anymore. I’ll do this however you want.” I paused, making myself meet his eyes. “You should also know I’m on PrEP.”
Jeremy’s expression flickered with something I couldn’t quite read before he looked away.
“Yeah. Okay.” His gaze dropped to the floor, a flush spreading from his neck to his cheeks.
“I haven’t been with anyone since…” He hesitated, his throat working, then he seemed to force the words out.
“Since the night I found out you’d bought the farm next door. ”
My stomach dropped. “What happened?” I asked, already knowing I didn’t want to know the answer. His tone told me it wasn’t a good story.
He huffed out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “What do you think happened?” His eyes lifted to mine, sharp and unflinching. “I went to some shitty bar off the highway and found someone willing. Took him into the bathroom, pinned him up against the wall, and fucked his brains out.”
“Jesus, Jeremy.” My throat felt tight, my pulse hammering in my ears. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. “You did that because of me?”
He let loose a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t about you. It was about me. About trying to prove I don’t still…” He stopped himself, but it was too late. The silence that followed those words finished the sentence for him.
“Anyway. That was the last time. Got tested after. Everything came back negative.” His fingers raked through his hair, leaving it standing up in dark, uneven tufts. “If you want to skip the condoms, I’m okay with that. I’m safe.”
A smarter man might’ve reached for the box in the drawer and done what made sense. But logic had left the premises the moment Jeremy had hauled me to him and sealed his lips to mine.
Maybe it made me a gullible asshole, but I believed him. Not because I was being rational. But because, for the first time since he’d come home, Jeremy had dropped his mask. Every wall he’d built, he’d cracked wide open. He wasn’t lying to me. But most of all, he wasn’t lying to himself.
I closed the distance between us, the scruff of his beard tickling my palms as I cupped his face, forcing his stormy, uncertain eyes to meet mine. My thumbs traced slow circles over his cheekbones.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” My voice cracked on the last word.
Jeremy’s jaw tightened. He pulled back from my touch, taking a step away, his hand raking through his hair.
“Want?” He gave a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it.
“No. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be angry and miserable all the damn time remembering shit I can’t forget.
” His chest heaved, his eyes fierce. “But I need it, Harrison. I need something to make it stop.”
My throat closed. “Make what stop?” I whispered, afraid to hear the answer.
“This.” He gestured helplessly between us. “Seventeen years of wondering why what we had wasn’t enough. Why I wasn’t enough. If I give myself to you, maybe I can finally stop wondering. Maybe it’ll get you out of my system. Maybe I can finally move the fuck on.”
His words landed like shards of glass. My chest constricted, the air leaving my lungs.
He thought one night—one desperate, angry fuck—would somehow fix what I’d broken.
Not enough.
All this time, he thought he hadn’t been enough for me. That somehow the problem had been him, when the truth was I’d never wanted anything—anyone—more. I just hadn’t known how to defy my parents. I hadn’t known how to be what Jeremy needed and what they expected of me. So I’d made a choice.
The wrong one.
And I’d regretted it every day of my life since then.
I took a slow step toward him. “You really think that’s how this ends?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I just know I can’t keep feeling like this.”
“Okay,” I breathed out. “Let me give you what you need, even if it’s goodbye.”
He nodded once, the movement jerky and desperate, like any more words might undo him completely.
I leaned in and kissed him—gentle this time, tender, trying to pour everything I couldn’t say into the press of my lips against his. When I pulled back, I let my hands trail down his chest to the hem of his flannel.
“Let me take care of you,” I murmured. “Let me make this good.”
Jeremy scoffed, falling back on his gruff persona. "You don’t have to be so damn careful, Harrison. I’m not going to break.”
“I know you won’t,” I said, my fingers working the buttons of his shirt. “But let me … just let me …”
I didn’t know how to finish that sentence. Let me love you sat on my tongue, but I swallowed it back.
As I eased his clothes off, I kissed each inch of skin I uncovered. Jeremy stood rigid through it, but the goosebumps on his arms, the tremor that rolled through him when my hands skimmed his sides, told the truth.
I sank to my knees, looking up at him with reverence. I pressed a kiss to his hipbone, feeling the sharp intake of air above me.
Not enough, he’d said. Why wasn’t I enough?
I’d spend the rest of the night—maybe the rest of my damn life—trying to show him the answer.