CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #3
Something twists in my stomach—part curiosity, part dread. “And did you? Get over him?”
“Nope. Turns out you can’t outrun your feelings, even with a backpack and a Eurail pass.” Her laugh holds zero humor. “Guess I’m doomed to carry this torch until I kick the bucket. Hence the permanent reminder behind my ear. There, you’re officially in on two of my secrets.”
The air shifts. My own truth sits heavy on my chest, begging to be said.
“I’m leaving Heartvest.”
She whips around. “What?”
“Gavin doesn’t know yet,” I murmur. “No one does. Looks like we’re both hiding things from him.”
“Holy shit. That’s huge.”
“I don’t have a choice. My father is forcing my hand. I either become the heir I was born to be or watch him dismantle everything I built with Gavin.”
I leave out the part about Amanda—the forced marriage, the timeline, the trap. Some truths don’t belong in moments like this.
“Your father’s always struck me as a sociopathic dick,” Petra says bluntly, “and this cements it. ”
“No argument there. He cares about power. Not people. Least of all his own son. You do not get to opt out of being a Sterling. You just get to choose how miserable you want to be about it.”
“That’s so fucked. Bryce, I’m sorry.”
“Well,” I say, attempting to lighten the mood, “at least there’s the consolation of hot dog carts in New York.”
“Best ones are in Brooklyn. Culinary magic on the tongue. The heartburn’s totally worth it.”
We fall quiet again.
But this silence is heavier.
I don’t voice the question burning in my throat— would you visit me?
Petra finally speaks, her voice surprisingly shy.
“At the carnival tonight, you mentioned waiting seven years to taste me again. That night at my graduation—when I kissed you—were you really thinking about me all this time?”
My heart stutters. I pull out my phone, fingers gliding over the screen to my hidden playlist. The glow cuts through the dark as I land on the song that’s always been my emotional downfall. I press play.
The opening piano notes of “Alone” by Heart drift softly from the speaker.
Petra’s breath catches. “Oh my God. That song was playing that night in my room.”
“I remember.”
“Bryce…” Her voice breaks. “That was the worst day. And the best. All at once. ”
She shifts to face me fully, her legs curling around my waist, drawing me in. A flicker of vulnerability crosses her face, flaming up a surge of emotions inside me.
The music, aching and electric, grips the air between us like it knows what we’re about to do. I lift my hand and trace her jaw, committing the delicate contours of her face to memory. My pulse pounds as I lean in—
“Wait,” she breathes, her palm pressing against my beating heart. “I need to confess something, and if I don’t admit it now, I’ll never find the courage.”
Her fingers tremble as she looks away, brushing the silky strands behind her lobe to expose the delicate broken heart.
“It’s you, Bryce. I’ve been helplessly in love with you since I was fifteen.”
The earth stops spinning. Waves freeze mid-crash. Every cell in my body plunges into free fall.
“I’m not telling you so you’ll say something back. It was just a stupid, over-the-top, teen girl crush that somehow never died. A few years ago, I finally worked up the courage to tell you, but you had already moved in with Amanda. I fled to Europe like a love-sick idiot.”
Her laugh is hollow. My chest is caving in.
“I realize how insane this sounds, but… before we go our separate ways, I wanted to finally tell you. I’m glad we had this time and that I got to know you. The real you. It honestly made all the heartbreak worth it.”
“Why me?” slips out.
She shrugs like it’s obvious. “My heart says you. Always has.”
I’m speechless .
“Maybe because you’ve always been decent to me. Or it’s that you never talked down to me when everyone else did. I don’t know. You’re you. That’s the whole reason. Love is stupid.”
She’s loved me since she was fifteen years old. She could’ve been mine this entire time?
“Okay. Enough about my unhinged teenage obsession. I promise not to stalk you in New York like a psycho. Let’s go see if there’s a bar still open.”
She starts to rise, but I grab her waist and pull her onto my lap.
“No.”
“B—”
“No,” I repeat, firmer. “You can’t drop that on me and leave.”
“Really, Bryce, I didn’t tell you to force you into anything.”
“Pip, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. There’s a pull between us. I can’t explain it. Can’t categorize it. Can’t control it. I’m drawn to you.”
She tries to avert her eyes, but I cup her face, guiding her back to me.
“You’re extraordinary, Petra. You see injustice, and you fight it. You help strangers. You remember details about people that matter. You’re fierce and loyal and brave enough to call out people when no one else will.”
Her mouth opens to speak, but I can’t stop now; my thumb traces her lips as I’m lost in the sheer wonder of her.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful. Outside, yeah, obviously, but it’s more than that. You walk through this world like bullshit doesn’t stand a chance. You make people feel like they matter. You make me feel like who I am is enough. Like I can finally stop holding my breath.”
Tell her you love her .
The thought hits like lightning.
You love her. Of course you do. She makes you happier than you’ve ever been.
But the truth is cold and brutal. How could it work?
Don’t say it. Don’t give her hope. You can’t be together. Don’t make this harder than it is.
So instead, I kiss her.
It’s deep and needy. A kiss that tastes like heartbreak and home. Her mouth meets mine with the same aching need. As if maybe we can hold the world still.
How can I let her go?
Waking up every day, painfully aware she’s not mine. But she could’ve been.
“Bryce,” she whimpers.
“I know,” I rasp, placing my forehead onto hers. “Pip, I know. I need you too.”
I glance out at the beach—the pitch-black stretch of sand, the endless dark water, the distant sparkle of carnival lights long since shut down. We’re alone. Our song fills the air, and there’s only shadows and sky.
Wordlessly, she stands, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She unzips her jeans like it’s nothing and peels them down along with her panties, tossing them aside.
The moonlight kisses her thighs. Her leather jacket is still on, shirt tugged up, and her bare center glistens. I can’t help but groan.
She’s perfection. She’s rebellion. She’s everything I’m not allowed to have.
And she’s offering herself to me anyway .
My pants are off in seconds, kicked somewhere behind me. They can end up in the damn ocean for all I care.
She climbs onto my lap, blanket slipping as she settles against my cock. A hiss of breath before she drags her slick heat along my shaft—slow, sinfully slow—as though she’s trying to set me on fire one silky glide at a time. Jesus, I’m going to bite my own tongue off.
My whole body’s begging—for her.
“I want you bare,” I grit out.
She stills. “What?”
“Raw, Pip. I need to feel all of you. I want this— us . Nothing in the way. So I remember this forever.”
Her eyes search mine. She nods.
“I want that too.”
She lifts up on her knees, and I watch her wrap her hand around my length, teasing her clit with my tip.
And then she sinks down.
Her velvety, taut pussy devours my cock.
“Petra,” I groan, my hands clutching her hips, barely hanging on. “I need—fuck—I need a second.”
Petra deliberately squeezes her inner walls around me, her eyes full of mischief. “So… don’t do this?”
I grab her hips and growl, “You’re going to pay for that.”
Then I drive up into her with a force that yanks a gasp from her throat. Her fingers dig into my neck, seizing me like we’re the only two souls left on Earth. Her breasts rise and fall frantically against my chest, and I can’t get enough.
“Yes, Bryce. You feel—more!”
“I want to live inside you, Pip. You’re my heaven.”
My body races toward a release at breakneck speed. The need for insatiable pleasure rises like a fever until suddenly, my selfish thoughts grow greedy and dark—a sinister idea slithers into my brain.
No matter how incredible this moment is, she’s already gone. But what if she gets pregnant?
If she did… I could take care of her. Spoil her. Make sure she and the baby want for nothing. And then at least I’d have some part of her. A reason to stay in her life when I’m being pulled so far away.
The idea is poison.
And still… it tastes like hope.
You’re a bastard for thinking it.
There’s no way she can survive in my world. There’s equally no way I can escape into hers. The brutal truth pounds through my skull with each thrust. But a child would require us to remain in each other’s lives.
The vision is shameful. But it won’t leave.
She starts to tremble, breath hitching, and I move faster. She syncs with my movements—seamless, instinctual—her body clamping onto mine as though we’re two parts of the same soul finally reunited.
I squeeze her ass tighter as I hear the familiar symphony of her building release—soft sighs and airy moans that I’ve memorized like my favorite song. I drive into her, holding nothing back, and she topples over the edge.
I feel the most incredible sensation of my life.
Petra’s release crashes over her, her come coating my cock as her walls flutter and pulse around my length, milking me with decadent pressure. She cries out my name .
Without the barrier between us, every thrust makes me forget my own damn name. I pump again. And again. Chasing the edge, fighting the inevitable, until—
I break.
“Petra…” I choke out.
I empty everything I am deep inside her, my muscles locking tight, the pleasure crashing through my body in waves.
We collapse into each other, wrecked and gasping.
Our chests flush. Our heartbeats thunder. I lock my arms around her, worried if I let go, she’ll vanish.
The ocean keeps whispering as my playlist drones on. I realize…
This was it.
The closest thing to forever I’ll ever have with Petra Brinkman.