Chapter Fifteen #2
The first drop of rain hit the roof, clearing a path for other raindrops to follow until the cloud released them all and the sun returned. Her feelings had billowed inside long enough. If there was no blue sky after she released her truth, so be it. She could weather what came next.
The time had come to unveil her hurt.
“Okay.” She took his hand. “Let’s talk.”
She hoped he couldn’t feel her shaking as he led her to the sofa. Miles sat on the coffee table and faced her, their legs so close she felt the hairs on his calves standing on end. He furrowed his brow, rested his elbows on his knees, and steepled his fingers together.
“That last day,” he said. “I didn’t give you the opportunity to talk. It may be ten years too late, but I want you to have the closure you never got. Say whatever you need to say to me. I promise to listen.”
Avery’s stomach tightened into a ball, but she resolved to speak through her nerves. She took a deep breath.
Start at the beginning of the end.
“That day. In the parking lot,” she began. “You were shaken up, and processing several traumas, so I understood why you pushed me away. But you made it clear multiple times that we weren’t … well … what I thought we were. I loved you. I thought you felt that too.”
Time had never dulled the pain radiating through her chest now. Miles waited while she breathed away the growing knot below her breastbone.
“You said you never loved me.” She gulped, reliving the pain of hearing him say it. “What was I supposed to do? I haven’t found the thing I want most in life, a stable relationship. And it might not be fair or true, but I blame you. I deserved better.”
He stood and crossed to the fireplace, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the mantle.
She tried not to jump at the next bolt of thunder.
He must have noticed the chill in the room, because he took a match off the mantle and lit the fire that had already been set up.
Her first thought was someone would have to clean the fireplace tomorrow.
Her second was firelight transformed the birch tree bed into a lush, romantic sanctuary.
Miles watched the flame grow.
“I treated you terribly and I am so sorry. You have no idea.” His voice came out soft and measured, as if he had carefully prepared for this moment.
“I didn’t contact you because there was no erasing what I’d done, and I didn’t think I deserved forgiveness.
But now? Avery. You’re back, and there’s this feeling I only get with you.
I live for the little everyday moments we share.
Doesn’t it feel like we’ve waited long enough? ”
At the word waited, her teeth clenched. For months afterward, she’d cried herself to sleep and cried herself awake. She’d tried so hard not to wait for someone who didn’t want her. Avery stood and met him at the fire.
“Waiting wasn’t an option.” She pressed a finger into his chest. “You shut me out.”
He fell quiet, but when she glared at him, he spoke.
“Honestly, Avery, what was supposed to happen to us?” His eyes pleaded with her.
“Summer was over. We had no money. Nashville and New Haven were more than a day’s travel apart.
After my graduation, you still had another two years of school.
Paying off my insurmountable pile of student debt meant I had to take the best job I could get, even if I was miserable.
I had no connections in Tennessee and no money to visit you.
How were we supposed to work all of that out?
I’m not saying it’s an excuse, but the odds weren’t in our favor. ”
Avery bristled. If Miles had loved her, he would’ve found a way.
“I don’t know!” she cried as the rain pounded the roof. “But people figure things out. They make love work. You weren’t willing to try. You left me crumpled in a parking lot and ghosted me.”
He sighed and thumped his fist on the mantle.
“I regret everything that happened after I pulled that little boy out of the water. You were there for me, and I was so mean.” He rubbed his palm on his forehead.
“You find silver linings and bright sides to everything, so I figured you’d move on.
This summer, I realized the pain didn’t end for you when you left Maine.
I admit I should have called, but regret and grief overwhelmed me.
You gave me the one thing you can never get back and never give to anyone else.
I tainted a moment you should have cherished.
There was no scenario under which I deserved your love. ”
He paused and rested his head in his palm. “You gave me your heart, and I didn’t, um, I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled.
Outside the window, a pine tree thrashed around in the wind. She had always been thankful he’d made her feel special and safe her first time.
“Miles, I don’t regret that night. Or us.
” Avery rested her hand on top of his. “But, grieving you swallowed me whole. Everyone kept telling me to let you go, but I couldn’t.
I stopped going to class. I stayed in bed and slept or cried.
I hated waking up because that’s when it hurt the most. You were my first so many things, including my first heartbreak. ”
“I didn’t know.” His voice shook. “I wish you had called. I would’ve—”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Rational thinking is hard when you’re suffering from depression. With each passing sleepless night, it grew easier to believe the worst in you.”
Tears welled in her eyes. Maybe now he understood. Miles’s hand quivered under hers.
The rain poured down and neither one of them moved. What felt like minutes later, Avery looked up to find his beautiful brown eyes filled with sorrow, love, and pain. They’d each carried their own grief for what they’d lost. The last thing she ever wanted for Miles was more grief.
“It’s like Tolstoy said”—she stepped closer—“‘we lost because we told ourselves we lost.’”
Avery lifted her hands to his chest, her right hand over his heart.
She pressed her face into his soft shirt and let his now smoky scent, the crackle of the fire, and the sound of rain falling on the roof calm her.
His thumb rubbed tiny circles in the small of her back, slowly releasing her tension.
“Pepper.” His tone was playful, like he’d said her name halfway through a grin. “Did you read War and Peace?”
He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer.
“I read it after my engagement ended, because the person I missed most was you,” she said. “I see why you like it so much. It’s like a nineteenth-century scripted reality series with love, schemes, duels, soirees, religious conversions, trysts, love, and massacres.”
Miles lifted a loose tendril of hair and tucked it behind her ear, letting his thumb caress the spot that made her buzz. “You said love twice.”
“I like to think love can happen twice.” Avery laced her fingers behind his neck.
“I hope so,” he said.
“Miles.” She wanted to exhale his name over and over, in the evening, in the morning, and every time in between. For so many days she lost count. “You know how you told me to envision what I want? I want this.”
He lifted her hand off his chest and kissed it, never taking his eyes off hers. Avery tingled all over. They were on verge of something wonderful, and she wasn’t going to stop herself this time.
As if reading her mind, he pulled her closer.
Miles slowly kissed her. His hands cupped her face, each tiny movement demanding more of her until his tongue begged at her lower lip.
It was nothing like the kiss the night they’d searched for Casper.
This one held want. It held heat. It held promise and the smoky aroma of a glowing fire.
Somewhere outside a tree branch fell, followed by a vicious clap of thunder. Avery jolted in his arms, her lips buzzing. He quietly contemplated her, not a trace of regret in his soft eyes. She ran her thumb along his stubbled jaw, stopping at the dent in his chin. The thrum inside her went liquid.
“Avery.” His brow furrowed. The care and concern in his sultry eyes echoed his voice. “I want this too, but if you need us to take our time, we can.”
Consent suited Miles.
“We’ve already taken our time,” she whispered. “I’m ready. What about you?”
“I’m a selfish man,” he said between kisses. “I’ve wanted to explore every inch of you since I saw you on the dock in May.”
His warm hand skimmed under her shirt. He brushed the soft skin above her hip as he pressed his forehead against hers.
Their eyes locked, and a second wave of his deep woods scent pushed her over the edge.
She had to have him. Avery rocked her hips into his.
He was hard. Miles was ready for this too.
“I’ll go at whatever pace you set,” he said. “But first, we need to talk safety.”
She pulled him to the desk and retrieved their phones. After they exchanged test results, his brow furrowed. He ran a hand down his face.
“Um, I don’t have a condom with me.” He placed his phone back on the desk, rocked back on his heels, and put his hands in his pockets. His eyes traveled to the ceiling and his cheeks flushed. Miles was a little embarrassed, which somehow made him more irresistible.
So he didn’t carry a condom with him—a built-in pause button to consider whether sex was something he wanted.
She liked that, along with his current state of dishevelment.
Avery placed a hand on the middle of his chest and pushed him until he leaned against the desk, his long legs cutting a diagonal to the floor.
Miles combed his hair with his fingers, messing it up in frustration. He was a brewing storm of tumultuous angst.
He dropped his hands. “What I wouldn’t give for just one…”
“Just one?” Avery smirked. She opened the desk drawer and pulled out the giant box of Golden Tiger condoms. The ones he had shoved in the drawer that day with Wes. “How long will it take us to get through two hundred fifty? Was it eight a day for a month?”
“Ha.” Miles took the box and shook it. “Not to sound full of myself, but past me was a genius.”
“I’m the genius.” Avery wrapped her hands around his neck. “You only wished for one.”
“Only because I have other tricks to make you moan and fist the bedsheets we’re about to dishevel.
” He kissed along her clavicle. His strong, stealthy hands grazed over her curves and flirted with her waistband.
“It’s only fun if we feel safe. If one of us gets overwhelmed and wants to stop, we stop. Agreed?”
“Mm-hmm.” She could abide by Miles’s acknowledgment of her agency and wouldn’t deny herself the elation of fisting those sheets.
He pulled the paintbrush out of her topknot, gathered her hair into a loose ponytail, and gently tugged it back, blazing a path of deliberate open-mouth kisses up her neck, each one igniting a spark that rippled through her.
Miles worked his way to the spot below her ear, his breath hot on her goose bumped skin.
She groaned when he skimmed her earlobe with his teeth and pushed her body closer to his.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. “I’ll need more than one night for the things I want to do with you.”
This was happening, and it was better than Avery had imagined. Her mouth went dry. Words jumbled.
He moved slowly, too slowly, pulling off her tee like he was opening a fragile gift and pushing aside her bra strap like it was tissue. He admired what he’d unwrapped and shook his head in disbelief, leaning down to kiss that freckle beside her breast.
“I missed this freckle.” Kiss.
“I missed your soft skin.” Kiss.
“I missed my Pepper.” Nibble.
His whisper, his hands smoothing over her sides, and the tickle of his hot breath made Avery writhe in desperation. She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled him to the bed. He eased her onto the mattress, hoisting himself above her so he could gaze down on her.
“You sure?” he asked.
For a split second, she realized her concept for the bed had worked. It felt like being in a tree with Miles. Hidden from the world, wrapped in a safe, warm, comfortable dream. Avery tugged his hips toward hers.
“I’m sure.”