Chapter 5
POV: Marina
After leaving his apartment.
My body was exhausted, my mind loud, and my heart—God, my heart was a disaster.
When I finally pulled into my parents’ driveway, the house looked exactly the same. Warm. Familiar. Safe.
Which somehow made what I’d done feel worse.
I slipped inside, shoes in hand, hoping to sneak upstairs unnoticed.
“Marina?”
Of course.
My mother’s voice floated from the kitchen, cheerful and entirely too awake.
“Yes?” I called, forcing casualness into my tone.
She peeked around the corner, studying me with a knowing smile. “You got home late. Or early. I’m not sure which.”
“I slept at Angela’s,” I lied instantly.
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded, completely unconvinced.
My brother’s laughter came from the couch. “Sure you did.”
I shot him a glare. “Shut up.”
“Do you want breakfast?” my mom asked.
“I already ate.”
My brother raised a brow. “So you slept at someone’s house and even got breakfast. Busy night.”
“Enough,” I snapped, cheeks burning. “You’re insufferable.”
He just smirked. “We missed you.”
That somehow hurt more than the teasing.
My phone buzzed the moment I reached my room.
Clara: GIRL. WHERE DID YOU GO?
Angela: You disappeared with Mr. Tall Dark and Dangerous. I NEED DETAILS.
Clara: DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM?
I stared at the screen, fingers hovering.
Me: We’ll talk later.
Angela: That means yes.
Clara: I knew it. I KNEW IT.
I tossed my phone on the bed like it could judge me.
The shower was hot enough to fog the mirror and melt the night off my skin.
But it didn’t erase him.
My hands slid over my arms, my waist, my neck—and every touch felt like his. Like the ghost of his hands still traced me.
My body remembered him in the most traitorous way.
The way he held me like I was precious and inevitable.
The way his voice had dropped when he said my name.
The way he’d looked at me like I was something sacred and dangerous at once.
I pressed my forehead against the tile, breath hitching.
It had only been one night.
So why did it feel like something irreversible?
When I came downstairs, my hair damp, wearing an oversized hoodie and trying to look normal, my mother start talking.
“We invited the Stokes for lunch,” she said lightly.
The world tilted.
“The Stokes?” My voice came out too high.
“Yes. It’s been ages since we all had lunch together. They were thrilled you’re back.”
Oh God.
The Stokes.
His parents. His everything.
My chest tightened. “Brennan is coming too?”
“Yes,” my dad said from behind the newspaper.
Great. Fantastic. Perfect timing.
I imagined seeing him across the backyard, sunlight on his skin, my secrets in his eyes.
I couldn’t. I absolutely could not.
“I actually have plans,” I said quickly. “I should go out—meet Angela—Clara—something.”
My mother gave me that look.
“We promised them they’d see you. They’ve been asking about you since you left.”
My dad nodded. “They’re neighbors, Marina. It would be rude to disappear.”
I felt trapped.
But I was leaving anyway.
I was halfway to the door, keys in hand, when the doorbell rang.
My heart stopped.
My mother clapped her hands. “They’re early!”
I froze.
My dad opened the door.
And there he was.
Brennan Stokes.
Tall. Broad. Casual in a simple T-shirt and jeans. Effortlessly beautiful. Too familiar.
His eyes found mine instantly.
Like gravity.
Like he’d known exactly where I’d be standing.
“Hello, Marina,” he said, his voice low, unreadable. “Good to see you.”
My parents beamed, completely unaware that he’d been inside me just hours ago.
I felt like the floor vanished beneath me.
Claire Stokes was the first to pull me into a hug.
She smelled like lavender and sunshine and familiarity, and for a second I felt twelve again—running barefoot between our backyards, eating popsicles on the porch, thinking the world was small and safe.
“Look at you,” she said, hands on my cheeks, eyes shining. “All grown up. We missed you so much.”
Jacob stepped forward next, wrapping his arms around me in a bear hug. “College stole you from us. It’s good to have you back, kid.”
“I missed you too,” I said, and it was true. My voice came out softer than I expected.
Then I felt him behind them.
Brennan.
He didn’t rush. He didn’t hover. He waited until his parents turned away, until it was just us.
Then he stepped forward and hugged me.
His arms were warm, solid, familiar in a way that made my pulse spike. His chest was firm under my palms. My body reacted before my brain could catch up.
His mouth brushed my ear.
“I missed you already.”
The words were quiet. Private. Just for me.
My breath hitched.
“Don’t,” I whispered back, my lips barely moving.
He pulled back just enough to look at me, a faint smile in his eyes, like he enjoyed every second of this.
“Don’t what?” he murmured.
“Don’t do that.”
He only smiled wider.
“Marina, can you help me with the salad?” my mother called.
I grabbed the opportunity like a lifeline.
“Yes. Of course.”
Brennan followed me into the kitchen like he’d been waiting for the excuse.
Of course he had.
The house felt too small with him in it.
I started chopping tomatoes with far too much intensity.
“So,” he said casually, leaning against the counter like he owned the place. “You left without saying goodbye.”
My knife paused.
“I left”
“You ran,” he corrected, voice low.
I kept cutting. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”
He stepped closer. I felt his presence before I saw him. His hand brushed the counter beside mine, close enough that my skin prickled.
“You really thought you’d wait a little longer before being alone with me again,” he murmured.
I stiffened. “This is not—”
He leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.
“You’re terrible at pretending.”
I swallowed. “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”
He cut me off instantly.
“Yes, it should have.”
I turned to him. “Brennan—”
“And it will happen again,” he added, completely certain, like this was a fact, not a question.
My stomach flipped.
“This is not something you just decide,” I said, lowering my voice. “We’re neighbors. Our parents are friends. You’re—”
“Not a child anymore,” he said quietly. “Neither are you.”
I hated that my body agreed with him.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, even though my pulse betrayed me.
He tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle.
“I’m not going to grab you and bite you,” he murmured, a hint of laughter in his voice.
A traitorous image flashed through my mind—and I hated that I liked it.
I stepped back, putting space between us.
“Let’s just pretend last night never happened.”
He watched me, expression unreadable.
“Let’s just live our lives,” I added. “Don’t embarrass me. Don’t… bring it up. Please.”
For a moment, he looked like he might argue.
Then he exhaled slowly.
“If that’s what you need,” he said.
It wasn’t what he wanted.
I could see that clearly.
His gaze lingered on me for a second too long.
“But pretending doesn’t erase things, Marina,” he added quietly.
I picked up the salad bowl and walked out before he could see how much that shook me.