Chapter 12
POV: AMBER?
“Amber.”
My name, low and rough with sleep.
My heart skipped.
His eyes opened slowly, blinking once, twice, before focusing on me.
For a second, he just stared.
Like he needed to make sure I was really there.
Then his hand slid up my side, pulling me closer against him.
“Morning,” he murmured.
His voice was still thick with sleep, deeper than usual.
I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close we were.
“Morning.”
His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, then back to my eyes.
A slow, lazy smile spread across his face.
“Still here,” he said.
I huffed softly.
“Disappointed?”
His eyebrow lifted just slightly.
“Not even a little.”
His thumb brushed along my waist, absentminded, but it sent a quiet shiver through me anyway.
I rolled my eyes lightly, trying to ignore the way my body reacted.
“You always wake up this confident?” I teased.
“Only when I wake up next to you.”
My breath caught.
Of course he would say something like that.
I shook my head, trying to play it off, even as warmth spread through my chest.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re still here,” he countered easily.
Before I could answer, his hand slid up my arm, fingers tracing slow, deliberate paths against my skin.
My breath hitched slightly.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
His eyes darkened just a fraction.
“Relax,” he murmured. “I’m just making sure you’re not about to run away.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, even as my lips betrayed me with the hint of a smile.
“I’m not the one who runs, remember?”
That landed.
I saw it in the way his expression shifted, just for a second.
But then he recovered.
Fast.
“Fair,” he said quietly.
And then, softer—
“Stay anyway.”
The words weren’t playful this time.
They were real.
Too real.
I held his gaze for a second longer than I should have.
Then I leaned in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his lips.
Just enough to break the tension.
“Bossy,” I murmured against his mouth.
His hand slid to the back of my neck instantly, holding me there for a second longer than I intended.
“Not bossy,” he said, his voice lower now. “Persistent.”
I pulled back just enough to look at him, my heart beating a little faster.
“You always were.”
His thumb brushed my cheek.
“And you always liked it.”
I rolled my eyes again, but this time I couldn’t hide the smile.
“Debatable.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing mine again—slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.
Like we weren’t standing on something fragile.
Like nothing could break this.
My hand slid to his chest, feeling his heartbeat pick up under my palm.
And then Alexander rolled over my body, shifting us until I was beneath him.
His green eyes locked onto mine, bright with that boyish look that had always taken my breath away.
Then he kissed me.
Slow. Deep. Tender.
His hands found mine, pulling them above my head, his fingers intertwining with mine as he pinned them gently against the mattress.
“Stay like this,” he murmured against my lips. “Let me see you.”
I felt his hard length pressing against my stomach, and my legs opened for him on instinct—pure muscle memory.
He looked at me as he moved his hips, positioning himself.
The head of him brushed my entrance.
A soft breath left me.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice low, steady.
My fingers tightened in his.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His gaze darkened slightly.
“Say it again.”
My breath hitched.
“Yes… I’m ready.”
He held my gaze for one more second—
Then he pulled back—
And pushed in.
One slow, deliberate thrust, never breaking eye contact.
I gasped softly, my body arching beneath him.
“Look at me,” he murmured.
I already was.
I couldn’t look away.
I didn’t want to.
His hips began to move, finding a slow, deep rhythm—one thrust after another, unhurried, controlled.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Just like that.”
My legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper.
A groan left his lips.
“God… you feel perfect.”
His eyes closed for a brief second before opening again, searching for mine like he needed that connection just as much as the rest.
I felt the pleasure building around me like a cocoon, wrapping us both, suspending us in something that felt outside of time.
It was slow.
Lazy.
That soft stretch of morning, where everything felt unhurried—like we had all the time in the world.
His grip tightened slightly around my hands.
“Stay with me,” he said, his voice roughening. “Don’t drift.”
I felt my breath hitch.
He noticed instantly.
“Yes,” he murmured, more intense now. “With me. Right here.”
Like a command.
Like he needed me exactly where he was.
And I broke.
The pleasure crashed through me hard, my body tightening around him as I came.
“That’s it,” he groaned softly. “Just like that…”
He followed right after, his forehead dropping against mine, his breath uneven.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Neither of us spoke.
Just breathing.
Just… existing together.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
The words settled deep inside my chest.
“I loved you back then,” he added, softer now. “And I never stopped.”
My throat tightened.
“I love you too,” I whispered.
God.
This felt too easy.
Too right.
Which probably meant it was about to hurt.
But for now…
For just this moment…
I let myself stay.
For a moment after I said it, after the words I love you left both of us, the world felt… still.
Too still.
Too easy.
God, this felt too easy.
Which probably meant it was about to hurt.
But for now—for just this moment—
I let myself stay.
I let myself breathe him in, let myself exist in this fragile, perfect bubble we had somehow rebuilt overnight.
And then, because staying too long in that silence felt dangerous, I pulled back just enough to look at him.
“Breakfast,” I murmured.
His lips curved lazily.
“Again with that?”
I smiled, brushing my fingers down his chest.
“I’m making sure you still eat properly.”
“I eat,” he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Scrambled eggs every morning?”
“With cheese,” he replied automatically.
“With too much cheese.”
“Protein,” he countered.
I laughed softly, slipping out from under him, grabbing the sheet to wrap around myself as I stood.
“Come on,” I said, glancing back at him. “I’ll make sure you get your protein.”
His eyes followed me, slow and appreciative, and I felt the weight of it like a touch against my skin.
“And what do you get?” he asked.
I shrugged, walking toward the small kitchenette.
“Latte. Fruit. Something light.”
He huffed quietly.
“Of course you do.”
“Balance,” I shot back.
I could feel him behind me before he even touched me.
His presence always did that—filled the space, closed the distance without effort.
His hand brushed lightly along my lower back as he passed me, reaching for the coffee machine like he belonged there.
Like we had done this a hundred times before.
Maybe we had.
In another life.
“Still take it without sugar?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I don’t need sugar.”
He smirked.
“Liar.”
I shook my head, but I was smiling.
God.
This felt… normal.
Too normal.
Like we hadn’t lost years.
Like we hadn’t broken each other.
My phone ringing cut through the moment.
Sharp. Jarring.
Real.
I froze for half a second before grabbing it from the counter.
Mr. Sterling.
Of course.
I cleared my throat slightly before answering.
“Good morning, Mr. Sterling.”
“Amber, good morning. Just checking in—everything alright on your end?”
My eyes flicked briefly to Xander.
He was watching me.
Not casually.
Not lightly.
Like he was listening to every word.
“Yes,” I said. “Everything’s going smoothly.”
“Good. We’ll need you both at the marina today. Final measurements, last footage. The team will be there this afternoon.”
“Of course,” I replied. “We’ll be there.”
A few more formalities, a quick confirmation—and then the call ended.
Silence settled again.
Different this time.
I set the phone down slowly.
“Work?” he asked.
I nodded.
“We have to go to the marina today. Final checks, filming… everything.”
His expression shifted, just slightly.
Not tension.
Not quite.
Something else.
“Alright,” he said.
Simple.
Too simple.
I leaned back against the counter, watching him for a moment.
“Back to reality,” I murmured.
His gaze met mine.
“Was this not real?”
The question caught me off guard.
I swallowed.
“It felt real,” I admitted.
His eyes softened, but he didn’t say anything else.
Didn’t push.
Didn’t retreat.
Just stayed there.
“Eat,” he said after a moment, sliding a plate toward me.
Bossy.
Familiar.
Dangerous.
I took the fork, shaking my head lightly.
“You didn’t change at all.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“Neither did you.”
That shouldn’t have made my chest tighten the way it did.
But it did.
We finished in that strange balance of light teasing and quiet glances—something easy layered over something much heavier.
And then reality truly set in.
Clothes.
Movement.
Distance.
I dressed quickly, smoothing my hair, grounding myself in routine.
When I turned back, he was already ready, watching me in that same way that made it hard to breathe.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Let’s go.”
The marina was louder than I remembered.
Or maybe it was just me.
The wind carried salt and laughter and the distant crash of waves, people moving everywhere—boards, cameras, voices overlapping in a rhythm that felt alive.
Too alive.
Xander’s hand found mine the second we stepped onto the sand.
Like it belonged there.
Like it had always belonged there.
My fingers curled around his without thinking.
Muscle memory.
Again.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing at me.
I nodded, even though my chest felt… tight.
“Yeah. Just… a lot of memories.”
His thumb brushed slowly over my knuckles.
“Good ones,” he said.
I let out a soft breath.
“Some of them.”
We walked a little further, closer to the docks, where the structure of the new marina would rise. The team was scattered around, setting up equipment, marking points, talking measurements.
Work.
Reality.
But his hand didn’t leave mine.
And neither did I.
“You know,” he said after a moment, more casual than the weight of his words, “we could make it work.”
I frowned slightly, turning to look at him.
“Make what work?”
Us.
He didn’t say it immediately, but it was there. In his eyes. In the way his grip on my hand tightened just a fraction.
“I don’t have to be in one place,” he continued. “Not really. I travel a lot, but most of what I do—I can do from anywhere.”
I stayed quiet.
Listening.
My heart already starting to beat faster.
“I’m only this involved because of this project,” he added, his gaze drifting briefly over the marina. “Because… it’s here.”
Because of us.
He didn’t need to say it.
I already knew.
“I have a solid team,” he went on. “A good structure. I don’t need to be on-site all the time.”
He looked back at me then.
Direct.
Intent.
“It wouldn’t have to be long distance. Not really.”
Something inside me… shifted.
Hope.
Dangerous, fragile, beautiful hope.
“You’re saying this like it’s simple,” I murmured.
His expression softened.
“I’m saying it because I want it to be possible.”
My breath caught.
God.
He always knew exactly how to reach me.
Before I could answer, before I could even process what he was offering—
A voice cut through the moment.
“Xander?”
We both turned.
She was walking toward us with an easy confidence, barefoot on the sand, a board tucked under her arm.
Sun-kissed skin.
Blonde hair, messy from the ocean.
Green eyes.
For a second, it felt like looking at a reflection of him.
Or maybe what he would look like if he had chosen a different life.
She smiled when she reached us.
Bright. Open.
“Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, shifting the board to her side.
Xander’s hand tightened slightly around mine.
“Maria,” he said, polite. Controlled.
Not warm.
Not distant.
Just… careful.
She glanced between us, her gaze landing on our joined hands.
Something flickered in her expression—recognition, maybe—but it didn’t linger.
“And you are…?” she asked, turning to me.
There was no edge in her voice.
No judgment.
Just curiosity.
Xander didn’t hesitate.
“This is Amber,” he said.
His girlfriend.
He didn’t say it.
But his hand in mine did.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Oh.”
A small smile curved her lips.
“This is the Amber?”
Something in my stomach twisted.
I forced a polite smile.
“The Amber?”
She let out a soft, almost amused breath.
“Wow.”
Her gaze flicked back to him briefly.
“You really didn’t do her justice when you talked about her.”
My chest tightened.
Talked about me?
Before I could even begin to unpack that—
She kept going.
Casual.
Unaware.
“Oh—sorry,” she added quickly, waving a hand lightly. “I just meant… I remember when you told me about her.”
Told her.
My fingers tightened slightly in his.
I felt it.
Every word, every implication, settling heavier and heavier in my chest.
Xander shifted beside me.
“Maria—”
But she didn’t stop.
Because she didn’t know.
Didn’t know she was about to tear something open.
“You’re the one he broke up with when his mom got sick, right?”
Everything stopped.
Not slowed.
Stopped.
The sound of the waves, the voices around us, even the wind—
Gone.
Because all I could hear was that one sentence, echoing, breaking something open inside me.
His mom.
Laura.
My chest tightened so fast it hurt.
I loved her.
God, I loved her.
She had been warmth and laughter and soft hugs in a house that never quite felt like mine. She used to brush my hair back and call me her girl like I already belonged there.
And he—
He had looked me in the eye and told me they were fine.
My hand went slack in his.
My heart didn’t race.
It dropped.
Like the ground beneath me had cracked open and I was falling straight through it.
“What?” The word barely made it past my lips.