Seventeen #3
I take a deep breath, wrapping my arms tighter around myself. “He cheated on me,” I say simply, staring at the ground as we walk.
Austin stops, grabbing my hand to make me stop too. I look up at him, and his expression is pure anger. “Fucking prick.”
I smile faintly. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”
“What happened?” he asks again, softer this time.
I sigh, glancing out at the river. “We were together for three years. I thought he was the one, you know? The whole cliché. But . . . one night I came home early from a work thing, and there he was with someone else. In our bed.”
Austin’s grip on my hand tightens, his jaw clenching. “Christ, Mia.”
“It broke me,” I admit, my voice wavering. “I thought I’d done something wrong, that I wasn’t enough. Took me ages to realise it wasn’t about me—it was about him being a selfish, lying idiot.”
“You deserved so much better,” Austin says, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s an idiot, and he lost the best thing that ever happened to him.”
My chest tightens at his words, and I blink back the sting of tears. “Thanks,” I whisper.
He pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. I bury my face in his chest, letting his warmth and strength ground me.
When he speaks again, his voice is low but resolute. “You’ll never feel like that again, Mia. Not with me.”
My throat tightens, and all I can do is nod.
We stand there for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the city buzzing around us. Somehow, with Austin, even the heaviest moments feel lighter.
Austin pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands still warm on my waist. His dark eyes search mine, and for a moment, it’s like the world shrinks to just us. The city fades, the noise dulls, and all that’s left is his gaze, steady and full of something I can’t quite put into words.
“Mia,” he says softly, brushing a stray piece of hair from my face, “what are we doing?”
The question catches me off guard, and I blink up at him. “Walking by the Thames?” I joke weakly, trying to lighten the mood, but his expression doesn’t shift.
“I’m serious,” he says, his voice low and rough. “This thing between us . . . and please don’t fob me off again. It’s not just a facade anymore, is it?”
I swallow hard, my heart hammering against my ribs. “No,” I admit quietly. “It’s not.”
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “I told myself I wasn’t going to fall for you,” he says, his tone almost self-deprecating. “You’re too good for me. Too kind, too funny, too . . . everything.”
“Austin—”
“Let me finish,” he says, cutting me off. His eyes burn into mine, intense and unyielding. “I’ve been trying to keep my distance from you, recently, but last night . . . and now . . . I can’t pretend anymore.”
My chest tightens, and I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown. “So what are you saying?” I whisper.
“I’m saying I’m all in,” he says firmly, his voice steady. “I don’t want to be just your fake forever, Mia. I want to be your real forever.”
I stare at him, because that’s all I can do.
“Whatever this is, whatever it could be . . . I want it. I want you.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, in the best possible way. For a moment, I can’t speak, can’t even breathe. He wants me. He’s not running, not hiding behind walls or excuses.
“I want you too,” I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
Relief floods his face, and he pulls me closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re sure? Because I’m not going to do this halfway, Mia. If we’re in, we’re all in.”
I nod, my hands sliding up to rest on his chest. “I’m sure,” I say, my voice steady now. “I’ve been sure for a while.”
A slow smile spreads across his face, one that makes my knees go weak. “Good,” he says, his tone softening. “Because I’m not letting you go now.”
His lips find mine, and the kiss is slow and deep, filled with a promise that feels stronger than words. The world melts away again, leaving just us and the electric charge that always seems to spark when we’re together.
When we pull apart, I’m breathless, my heart racing.
Austin rests his forehead against mine, his eyes still locked on me.
“So,” he says, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, “now that we’ve established we’re completely mad for each other, what’s next?”
I laugh, the sound bubbling out of me before I can stop it. “Well, I say we keep walking, find some overpriced restaurant, and see where the night takes us.”
“Overpriced food and spontaneous adventure,” he says, nodding. “Sounds like my kind of plan.” Suddenly, Austin reaches into his pocket, and fishes out his phone, looking at the screen as it buzzes in his hand.
“And no work calls,” I add pointedly, narrowing my eyes at him.
He rejects the call and raises his hand in mock surrender. “No work calls. Scout’s honour.”
“Were you ever a Scout?”
“Not even close,” he admits, grinning.
I laugh, slipping my hand into his as we start walking again. The city stretches out ahead of us, full of possibilities, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like anything is possible.