Chapter Six #2
The hesitation lasted only a second, and that second made my grip tighten instinctively, as if some part of me believed she might disappear again if I didn’t hold on. Because the truth hit me with brutal clarity the moment our lips met.
Five years hadn’t erased her.
She remained in my head, in my body, in the part of me that had spent every one of those years knowing my life was missing her.
And kissing her again proved something even worse. The kiss carried everything we had never finished saying. The anger, the betrayal, the stupid, reckless relief of finally being within reach of feeling her again after years of imagining it.
She still felt familiar as home.
Edwina
For a moment I forgot how to breathe. The moment his mouth crashed against mine the world around us dissolved into something dangerously familiar, something that felt far too much like the past I had spent five years trying to bury.
The warmth of his lips, the sudden pull of his arm around me, the reckless certainty with which he kissed me, it all struck with a force that nearly knocked the air from my lungs.
As our lips moved together, an unexpected blend of mint and smoke lingered on his enticing taste, a sensation that was unfamiliar and new to me.
And the worst part was the second that followed.
The second where I didn’t stop him. For one humiliating, treacherous heartbeat I felt myself melting into the kiss, my body reacting before my mind had the chance to catch up.
The memories came rushing back all at once—the nights we had spent together, the way his hands used to hold me as though the world outside us didn’t exist, the dangerous way he had always known exactly how to break through every defense I tried to build.
For that single moment, I almost let it happen.
And then reality crashed back into place.
What the hell are you doing, Edwina?
The thought hit me like cold water.
My hands pressed hard against his chest. I shoved him away. The movement broke the kiss instantly, the space between us returning in a sudden rush of air that made my head spin.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, my voice shaking despite the anger flooding through me.
He barely had time to react before my hand moved, and the slap cracked through the office with such force that my palm stung at once.
For a moment, neither of us moved. Hayden’s head had turned slightly from the impact, his jaw tightening as he slowly looked back at me, and I expected anger, shock, some sign that I had crossed a line neither of us could step back from.
Instead, his fingers rose to his mouth, touching the corner of his lips where my hand had landed, and then he smirked.
What the fuck? He was actually smirking.
My chest was rising and falling unevenly now, anger and humiliation colliding inside me so fiercely that my hands trembled.
“Don’t ever do that again,” I said, my voice shaking with anger. “Do you understand me? Never. I mean never fucking touch me again.”
The words came out fast, every bit of control I had left snapping under the force of them.
“Don’t touch me just because you finally remembered what you threw away. Don’t pull me close and act as if I still belong to you. And don’t you dare bring this possessive bullshit to me after everything you did.”
“You kissed me back,” he said finally. The accusation in his voice was restrained.
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, and the corner of his lips lifted in a way that made my blood burn. “Don’t you fucking dare deny it. And I'm damn sure if I touch you, I'll find your pussy wet for me.”
The words landed harder than they should have, because some small, treacherous part of me knew exactly what he meant, and he was right. That was what made it worse. I stepped back toward the door, forcing distance between us before the tension pulled me somewhere I refused to go.
“Don’t come closer,” I warned when he took a step forward. “Stay away from me, Hayden. From my life, my job, my friends, my university. Go back where you came from.”
I grabbed the door handle and pulled it open before he could say another word.
Because the longer I stayed in that room, the more dangerous the situation was becoming.
And the last thing I could afford right now was letting Hayden Stone remind me exactly how easy it had always been to lose control around him.
The moment I stepped out of his office, the air in the hallway felt colder, or maybe it was just me.
My heart was still racing, my breath too uneven for walking normally to feel easy, but I forced myself forward, each step careful as I moved away from the administrative wing as fast as my dignity allowed.
What the hell was that? I pressed a hand to my forehead, then to my lips, trying to pull myself together as the last few seconds replayed in brutal clarity.
His mouth on mine. The heat of him. The way my body had reacted before my mind could stop it.
I had kissed him. I had really kissed him back. What the hell had I done?
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
How the hell had I let that happen again?
Five years of distance, of rebuilding myself, of convincing my heart that Hayden Stone no longer had any place in my life—and somehow one reckless moment in his office had made everything collapse as if it had never existed.
I exhaled sharply, trying to slow my breathing.
You lost control again.
To him.
Again.
The realization burned.
Because the worst part was the moment before I pushed him away. The humiliating second when my body had betrayed every rational thought in my head and melted into the familiarity of his arms. For a heartbeat I had remembered exactly what it felt like to belong there.
“Idiot,” I whispered to myself. The anger was directed entirely inward.
How fucking stupid could I be? I turned the corner toward the Foreign Languages Department, still trying to collect myself when suddenly my shoulder collided with someone walking the opposite direction.
“Whoa—”
Strong hands caught my arms before I lost my balance.
“Easy there.”
I blinked quickly, my thoughts still spinning as I looked up.
“Sorry,” I said automatically.
The man in front of me smiled slightly.
Professor Daniel Whitmore, one of the linguistics faculty members who had joined the department around the same time I did, was watching me with mild concern.
“You alright?” he asked.
I nodded too quickly.
“Yeah, just… distracted.”
“That much was obvious,” he said lightly.
I tried to return the smile, though I suspected it didn’t look particularly convincing.
“Long day?”
“You could say that.”
Daniel studied my face for a moment longer.
“You have the face of someone who just had a small disaster dropped on her desk.”
A laugh escaped me despite myself.
“That is unfortunately not far from the truth.”
“Well,” he said with a shrug, “welcome to academia. Disasters tend to show up without warning.”
The casual humor helped ease the tension in my chest slightly.
“True.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again. “You ran into me like you were trying to escape something.”
The question came closer to the truth than he realized.
“I’m fine,” I said.