Chapter Eight
Eight
The dying embers cast a warm, flickering glow across the room as Aubrey’s eyes fluttered open.
Disoriented, she blinked away the remnants of sleep, her gaze sweeping over the cozy yet disheveled living room.
Blankets and pillows were strewn haphazardly, evidence of the movie night that had clearly ended while she slept.
The absence of her friends’ laughter and chatter struck her, replaced by a hushed stillness broken only by the occasional crackle from the fireplace.
Though as her gaze landed on Gunner’s sleeping form sprawled across the couch, her breath caught.
His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, one arm draped carelessly over his midsection while the other dangled off the edge.
The fading firelight played across his features, softening the lines of his face.
God, he’s gorgeous, Aubrey thought, allowing herself a moment to drink in the sight of him. Even in sleep, there was something magnetic about Gunner Woods. It was the same pull she’d felt that night in Atlanta, before everything had gone sideways.
She shook her head, trying to wash away the memory. This is dangerous territory, Aubrey. You know better.
But as her gaze traced the curve of his lips, slightly parted in sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have been if things had gone differently. If he hadn’t left her alone in that hotel room, waking up to nothing.
The ache of that rejection still stung, even after all this time. Yet seeing him like this, vulnerable and unguarded, stirred something within her that she’d thought long buried.
She sighed softly, conflicted emotions warring inside her. Part of her wanted to wake him, to confront him about that night and demand answers. Another part wanted to simply curl up beside him, to feel the solid warmth of his body next to hers.
Instead, she sat up slowly, her muscles protesting as she pushed herself upright on the makeshift bed. She rubbed her eyes, wiping away the last vestiges of sleep as reality seeped in.
Her gaze darted around the room, taking in the empty spaces where her friends had been. No sign of Charly’s infectious laughter, Jaxon’s easy smile, Willow’s comforting presence or Eli’s steady demeanor. They were gone, leaving her alone with…
Gunner.
As if on cue, he stirred on the couch, his eyes fluttering open. Their gazes locked, and Aubrey felt a jolt of electricity course through her. Recognition flickered in his eyes, followed by a mix of surprise and something deeper, more intense.
“Aubrey,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
She swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. “Gunner,” she replied, barely above a whisper.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and shared memories. Aubrey’s mind raced, recalling their passionate night in Atlanta, the bitter sting of waking up alone and now, this unexpected time alone.
“I guess we’re the last ones standing,” Gunner said, breaking the tension with a wry smile.
Aubrey nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Looks like it,” she agreed, trying to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Neither did I,” he admitted, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair. The movement drew Aubrey’s attention to the lean muscles of his arms, and she quickly averted her gaze.
This is ridiculous, she chided herself. You’re not that starry-eyed girl anymore. But even as she thought it, she couldn’t deny the pull she still felt toward him.
She cleared her throat, pushing all that aside. “So, uh, where did everyone go?” she asked.
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Honestly? I have no idea. Last thing I remember was the opening credits.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Guess I’m not as fun as I used to be—can’t even stay awake for a movie night.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t make it much further.” She shook her head, smiling. “Some party animals we are.”
Their shared laughter eased some of the tension, but Aubrey couldn’t shake the heightened awareness of his presence. She watched as he stretched, his muscles flexing beneath his shirt.
He glanced at his watch, his expression shifting. “I should probably head out,” he said, moving to stand up. “It’s getting late.”
Aubrey felt a sudden pang of…something. Disappointment? Concern? She wasn’t quite sure. “Wait,” she found herself saying, surprising even herself. “It’s late. Just stay.”
Gunner paused, his eyes searching hers. “You sure?” he asked, his voice soft.
Aubrey nodded, her practical side taking over. “We’ve got plenty of blankets, and the fire’s still going,” she said, ignoring the flutter in her stomach.
He hesitated, his eyes flickering between Aubrey and the couch. A moment passed, charged with unspoken possibilities, before he slowly sank back onto the couch. Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat as she watched him settle in, his broad shoulders relaxing against the cushions.
“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
Aubrey lay back down on her side, pulling the blanket up around her. The fire crackled softly. In the dim light, she swore she could see the questions in his eyes, mirroring her own curiosity and apprehension.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. “Can I ask you something?” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.
He turned to face her fully, his eyes intense. “Anything, darlin’.”
Her heart raced. She’d imagined this conversation a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, words seemed to fail her. She bit her lip, wrestling with how to phrase the question that had haunted her since that night.
“It’s just…” she started, then paused, searching for the right words. “Why did you leave me like you did?” she finally asked.
Gunner’s eyes widened before he sat up. “So, it was you? You’re admitting it?”
Aubrey snorted. “Oh no,” she quipped, her tone lighter than she felt. “You don’t get to turn this around on me. I’ll answer that after you explain yourself.”
He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that sent a warmth through Aubrey’s chest.
“Fair enough,” he conceded, his eyes crinkled with amusement and something deeper. “I suppose I owe you that much.”
Aubrey hugged her pillow, bracing herself for his explanation.
His expression grew serious, his gaze drifting to the dying embers of the fire.
“It all started with an ATV accident,” he began.
“I was being reckless, a stupid rebel, I guess…” His fingers absently traced a line along his leg, drawing Aubrey’s attention.
“The accident left me with a nasty scar, right here,” he said, gesturing to his thigh.
Then his expression grew somber. “That scar was just the beginning,” he continued, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.
“The pain… It’s bad sometimes. I turned to pills, thinking they’d help me cope while I was on tour. ”
Her heart ached at the raw vulnerability in Gunner’s voice. She wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but remained still, sensing he needed to get this out.
“Before I knew it, I was in deep,” he confessed. “The addiction took everything—my music, my sense of self. I was empty. A shell of who I used to be.”
The weight of his words hung heavy in the air between them.
“Then I saw you,” he continued. “That week in Atlanta, it was like a jolt of electricity. For the first time in years, I felt like I’d woken up again, if that makes any sense at all.”
Aubrey found herself leaning in, her eyes never leaving his.
“Our week together,” he went on, “it was more than just a fling. It was…normal. Happy. Everything I’d been missing.”
A bittersweet smile tugged at Aubrey’s lips. “Then why did you leave?” she asked.
Gunner’s eyes clouded with regret. “I was scared,” he admitted. “Terrified, actually. I felt something real with you, and it made me realize how far I’d fallen. I couldn’t bear the thought of dragging you into my mess.”
Her breath hitched. “So you ran?”
He gave a slow nod. “I ran. From you. From myself. From seeing what a fucking mess I’d become.
I hated the man those pills made me. I came back home within a week, faced my demons, got help.
Started the long road to healing.” A shaky breath escaped him as his gaze locked on to Aubrey’s with an intensity that made her breath catch.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered.
“But here you are, in my hometown of all places. It feels like…”
“Like what?” Aubrey prompted, her heart thundering in her chest.
“Like fate,” he said. “Like the universe is giving us a second chance.”
Aubrey’s heart skipped a beat. She wanted to believe him, but the memory of waking up alone in that Atlanta hotel room still stung. “Gunner, I—” she began.
He rose and he came to sit close to her. “I know I hurt you,” he interrupted, his eyes never leaving hers. “And I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. But I swear to you, I’m not the same man I was back then. I want to earn your trust back.”
His words hung in the air between them, heavy with promise and possibility. Aubrey found herself torn between the urge to guard her heart and the desire to let him in.
Her breath caught in her throat as he sat mere inches from her, the heat radiating off his body wrapping around her like a warm embrace.
Her mind reeled, memories of their night in Atlanta flooding back with startling clarity—the taste of whiskey on his lips, the feel of his calloused hands on her skin, the way he’d made her feel more alive than she had in years.
She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I tried so hard to forget.”
His eyes bored into hers, filled with an intensity that made heat spiral through her. “Darlin’, some things are too powerful to forget.”