Years in the Making (Right Place, Right Time #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

December

Nellie

This is not me , I think as I pull Teddy’s mouth back to mine. I don’t make out with virtual strangers after ten minutes of knowing them , I scold myself, leaning in as his hand slides under my shirt to palm my breast. I certainly don’t make out with men in open areas where anyone can see us , I remind myself as I reach down and pull my sweater up and over my head, tossing it to the side.

Somehow, Teddy walking me out to my car has resulted in one hell of a make-out session. First against the door and now in my driver’s seat. I should be in it alone, already on the road. But he’s the one sitting while I’m straddling his lap, topless, breathless, and senseless.

What the actual fuck is happening right now?

Of course, Teddy is not exactly a stranger. I met him years ago, on a train, in another life. My mind keeps trying to pull me back there, but I’m desperate to keep it in the present. So I focus on where his body is pressed against mine. How his breath and mine seem one and the same, how his grip is like a vice, holding me as if he is afraid I’ll disappear again. But it wasn’t me who disappeared. One day he was there, and the next—poof, gone. I’d spent years acting out what I’d say to him if he ever walked back into my life, and then one day I just…stopped thinking about him. I let myself finally move on from the guy who won my heart only to smash it with two words and no further explanation.

This was not a scenario I’d ever thought about. Not a single one involved his lips on mine, his teeth grazing my neck, his hand squeezing my breast, and his arousal blatantly pressed beneath me. When I rock my hips, he lets out a hiss and his hands move to my ass, driving me harder against him. The Teddy I knew over a decade ago was sweet and gentle, always the one to slow down the urgency that would build in us. This Teddy is desperate and a little rough. I tell myself I hate it, but the truth is, I fucking love it. More than that, I need it. I’ve spent twelve years hating this man and he has the nerve to walk back into my life and immediately get under my clothes.

“Goddammit, I missed you, LG,” he says breathlessly, and that’s it, that’s the cold bucket of water I needed ten minutes ago.

I pull back, untangle myself from him, grab my sweater from the passenger seat, and practically fall out of the car as I struggle to dress myself. When I look back, I know he knows what’s coming. He tips his head back against the headrest, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah. That was—”

“Something that will never happen again,” I say with conviction.

He doesn’t respond right away, just watches me until the sadness from earlier replaces the hope in those pale blue eyes and he slides from the car. Yes , I think, it sucks, doesn’t it? This feeling of not being wanted.

I set my jaw and square my shoulders. “Nothing has changed, Teddy. You’re still the guy who made me fall for you that summer and then fucked off without so much as a goodbye, and I’m the girl who stupidly thought you’d come back to me.” I push past him to get behind the wheel, then grab his coat off the passenger seat and throw it at him. When I turn to face him again, his expression is void of emotion, void of the guy I used to know.

“Bye, Teddy.” I slam the door shut, put the car in reverse, and head towards home. Despite the urge, I manage to get to the main road without looking in my rearview mirror.

Twelve years, and the only guy I’ve ever loved shows up working for my best friend’s soulmate. And within minutes of seeing him again, he had the audacity to give me an explanation that would have saved me years of pain.

If I thought the universe had been looking out for me all those years ago on that train, then it was definitely fucking with me now.