Chapter 8
Jake
For a long moment, neither of us speaks. There’s just the sound of the ocean and distant voices from somewhere close to the inn.
“What do you want?” she finally asks, her voice cold.
And just like that, the years fall away, and I’m eighteen again, standing on the edge of a decision that tore us apart.
“I just…” I pause, the words tangled somewhere between my brain and my mouth. A haze settles over my thoughts, loosening things I’ve kept locked away for years. What the hell am I doing? I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be following her.
But here I am.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” I manage, my voice rough and unsteady, the words too small, too late.
Her laugh cuts through the night—sharp, bitter, a little wobbly at the edges. “Sorry?” she hiccups, swaying just slightly. “You’re seriously saying that now? After all this time?”
She smells of champagne and sea air, and a part of me registers that she’s drunk too. This is a terrible idea, talking to her, but it’s already happening, and I can’t seem to stop it.
I take a step closer. “It’s not enough. I should’ve said it back then. But I never stopped thinking about you.”
She scoffs. “Thinking about me? Well, thinking doesn’t change what happened, does it? You threw me away as though I was nothing.”
No. I let her go because she was everything , and she deserved more than my messes.
Kelly was always a force, this fierce, brilliant light that filled every corner of a room without even trying. She had this drive, this spark—she could conquer anything she set her mind to. I’d never met anyone like her. And I never have since.
She deserved the world, everything she’d worked so hard for, and I couldn’t be the one to clip her wings or tie her down with mistakes that weren’t her own. She was too damn incredible to be dragged down by me. By a baby and a life I never planned.
The breeze off the ocean tugs at the loose strands of her hair, brushing them across her cheek. For a second, all I want to do is reach out and tuck them behind her ear. But my hand stays frozen by my side, weighed down by regret.
“I thought…” My throat feels closed up, but the words keep coming, the alcohol loosening truths long buried. “I thought I was doing the right thing—”
“How noble of you.”
“But I never stopped loving you.” It slips out before I can stop it, stirring something dangerous in the cold night air.
Her eyes flicker—just for a moment—and I swear I see the same old longing mirrored back at me, tangled with hurt and anger. It’s a look I know too well, one that says she hasn’t moved on either.
“Don’t do this, Jake.” Her voice wavers, teetering on the edge of vulnerability. “You have no idea how much you hurt me.”
I take another step toward her, then another, until we’re face-to-face, and I’m too far gone to stop myself, the whiskey pushing me past the point of caution. Past the point of common sense, into a place where nothing makes sense, but my lips crushed against hers.
A hoarse whisper: “I do, Kelly. I know how much I hurt you, because it damn near killed me.”
I look at her, and the thought rises, unbidden, a painful truth I’ve never let myself say out loud: if I’d made that mistake with Kelly instead of Jenny, it would never have felt like a mistake. With Kelly, it would have been right. Every moment between us always was. Easy and fierce, the way love is supposed to be.
I wouldn’t have been chained to duty; I’d have been bound by choice, by passion, by something unbreakable. Loving her was never something I had to try at—it just was .
The space between us is electric, charged with all the unsaid things we’ve carried for years, while the ocean hums in the background, the waves whispering against the shore as if they know this story better than we do.
This close, I can see the rise and fall of her chest, the soft curve of the tops of her breasts. My pulse pounds in my ears, and for the first time in years, something stirs inside me—a flicker of hope, reckless and sharp-edged.
“I didn’t love her, Kelly,” I say. “I tried to. I thought it was the right thing. But she wasn’t you.”
Her eyes widen, a faint glimmer of something—surprise, maybe pain.
“We were broken up at the time. I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance with you. And then you gave me one.” I swallow hard. “For one perfect moment, everything lined up. It felt like I finally had it all.”
Her gaze drops, lingering on my lips, and her voice is almost a breath. “I remember everything.”
This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
For a moment, the air between us thins to nothing, and the only thing is her —right there. The years melt away, leaving only us standing on the edge of something that could either save or destroy us all over again.
I lean in. Swallow hard. “You’ve been under my skin since day one, and not a damn day has passed without me thinking about what we had.”
There’s a flicker in her dark eyes. She’s close enough for me to catch the subtle scent of her perfume—a mix of forest and something sweet, intoxicating.
“Jake—”
Then she gets this look in her eyes, I can practically see her thinking, fuck it. And she closes the distance entirely, her lips crashing against mine.
A part of me is shouting that this is a mistake. We’re both too drunk, but it’s drowned out by her mouth moving against mine with a hunger that matches my own. She’s so beautiful, so perfect, and with her hands threading through my hair and her body pressed against mine, everything else fades into the shadows. What matters is here and now—the taste of her lips, the way she clings to me.
We stumble backward until she’s against a tree trunk. There’s only Kelly—her curves, her soft moans as my hands roam over her body. I break the kiss, overcome by the need to touch her, taste her, bury myself inside her. “Turn around.”
She turns to face the tree and I pull off her coat, before unzipping her dress and pulling it down to her waist. She turns to face me, mouth hot and wet against my own once more, and I slide my hands under the lace of her bra, taking the perfect weight of her breasts, the taut peaks. I yank the flimsy fabric aside and lean down, sucking on her nipples as she arches her back.
Then her hands are on my belt, tugging until she’s got it loose, and my pants fall to the ground around my feet. She reaches into my boxers and frees my cock, pumping the hard length of it. I’m fucking steel for her.
I slide a hand up her thigh and push aside her panties, sliding one finger and then a second inside her. She’s so wet, so warm and tight, and I let out a groan, before grabbing my dick and teasing her entrance through the fabric. She gasps before pulling her panties all the way down and kicking them off.
“I need you,” she says through ragged breaths, and we lock eyes for the briefest of moments before I push inside her, her legs wrapping around me, her back against the tree. The world narrows down to the slick heat of her, the way she gasps my name, the rhythm we fall into as easily as breathing.
I start to move, slowly at first, savoring being inside of her. But then I get faster, and everything becomes too much and too good and there’s just the sensation of being sheathed by her, the wet of her mouth and her pussy.
I’m getting closer, and she’s close, too. Her moans get louder, and her nails dig into my back.
“Kelly,” I groan.
She cries out, her orgasm washing over her in waves, clenching around me, and it sends me over the edge. I come hard, my cock pulsing as I fill her with my release.
For a moment, we stand there in the dark, her legs around my waist, me leaning down and resting my forehead on hers, both breathing hard.
Then a voice reaches us, distant at first but slowly getting louder. “Kelly! Hey babe, are you out here?”
The warmth slips away, and the air is suddenly colder. Kelly puts both hands on my chest and pushes me away. I set her feet on the ground and pull out, the mess of us dripping down her leg. She makes a face, using her hand to wipe it away, before doing her best to clean her hand on the manicured grass.
“Kelly,” I say. But I don’t know how to follow that, so I just stand there, an idiot with my jeans around my ankles while she scrambles for her clothes, adjusting her bra, pulling up her dress. Her movements are jerky, urgent, as though she’s trying to outrun what just happened.
“Kelly?” Nora’s close now.
“I’m here, I’m coming. Just a minute.” She finally looks at me, not meeting my eye, and I see the moment where she realizes the full implications of what just happened. Her gaze brushes mine, but it’s empty—distant. She’s already pulling away from me, from what just happened between us.
That’s when it hits me. I see it in the way her lips press together, the way her shoulders hunch forward. The moment when everything that felt so good just seconds ago suddenly turns into something she wishes never happened.
“Kelly, wait.”
“This was a mistake. Shit. I’ve got to go.”
“Kelly, wait—”
“No, don’t. Just—don’t.” There’s an edge to her voice, sharp enough to slice through the haze of booze and lust still clouding my brain.
She’s composed now, poised, her figure stiff as she zips up her jacket and starts walking toward the sound of Nora’s voice. Too late, I realize I should move, say something, anything, to fix this.
But she’s already walking away. “Don’t follow me,” she states flatly as she glances over her shoulder. “I never want to see you again.”
Then she’s gone, disappearing between the shadows and the trees. My feet are rooted to the spot, but I force myself to bend down and pull up my boxers and pants, doing up my belt.
Frustration grips my chest, but beneath that frustration, there’s something else.
Her voice drifts back to me, talking to Nora as they head toward the inn. I lean against the tree, the bark still warm where her back had pressed against it, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air, shaking my head. Because no matter how much she tries to convince herself that what just happened was a mistake, I know better.
The way her eyes met mine, the way she kissed me—she’s feeling it, too. What used to burn so brightly between us isn’t gone. It’s there, just like it used to be.
I push off the tree, straightening up. Kelly can be stubborn and intense, and I’ll need to be patient, wait for the right time, show her she can trust me again.
It might be a long shot—but after tonight, there’s still a chance I can fix one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
A grin breaks across my face.