Page 84 of If We Were Young

“Nope.” His arms tightened more, holding me in place.

“Hell?”

“Ronnie, having you as hot as hell lying in my arms like a giant fucking marshmallow of goodness while watching a movie, will probably remain of the most painful things I’ve gone through. Having my dick sawn off would have been better.”

I sighed at those words. I remembered the ache of having him next to me all too well. “You should have turned to kiss me.”

“What would you have done?”

“Kissed you back, probably.” I breathed in deep again, filling my chest cavity with Matthew.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Because of her.” I pressed myself into the warmth of his neck. I was hot and tingly all over. “Why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Because of her.” Another press of his lips to my temple. I could have died, right now, and wouldn’t have cared. I didn’t care. “Not in the way you think. I never wanted you to be the other woman.”

“You were eighteen; how could there even be a ‘woman’?” It’s a stupid question really because if I’d had the chance, or rather if I’d been brave enough when the moment came, I would have taken him for my own. Without hesitation.

“My life was so complicated.”

“You never talked about it. Not ever.”

“I know. I didn’t want to talk about it with you, every moment with you was magic. If I’d brought my reality into that then I would have ruined it.”

I didn’t want to ruin this now. “What’s going on with your mum tomorrow?”

He sighed, deep and low. “Just this thing she does every year.”

He turned slightly and then I felt it. A prodding stiffness against my thigh. Oh, so that changed things a bit. Actually, a lot. A desperate wild ache clawed inside me. My legs grew heavy, while a deep heat settled in the pit of my stomach.

I pushed against him.

“What would you do? If we were young again?”

He shifted back to look at me. A serious silence echoed along with the wheels of the train on the tracks. “I’d tell you every day how I felt. From the first moment we met.”

“What do you wish you’d told me?” Our tentative conversation began to tread on dangerous ground. I might not want to hear his answer.

“I wish I’d told you that I loved you.”

The snap in my brain was audible. The sound rang around me as my connection with the reality I’d always known broke and then reconnected together again, lighting fuses and sparks.

I opened my mouth, closed it again, and then took a deep breath as I pitched myself down into the chasm of truth. “I wish I’d told you yes that day when you knocked on my door.” The words bubbled and built. “I wish I’d opened the door and dragged you inside. Wish I’d kissed you and never let you go.”

He nodded, and a tear trickled down my cheek, rolling off my lashes and then splatting itself onto his T-shirt.

“You married her even though you broke up with her that day? You said the other night in the car that you broke up with her because you knew I had trouble saying what I wanted, and you were giving me time to get to the right answer.” My chest hollowed. “But then later that night you saw what you thought was me kissing someone else. What happened then? Did you go back to Julie, go back to what you knew?” The words stung, with eye watering intensity. “You sure as hell didn’t come and find me for an explanation.”

He tightened beneath me, freezing into stone.

When his gaze rested on mine it burned. He lifted a hand and wiped at my cheek with his thumb. “I need to ask you a question.” He dodged my question with one of his own. Sneaky.

“Okay…”

“At dinner, you said you were angry with your husband. Then this morning your staff were talking, and I know I acted like a shit. But, Ronnie. Why are you so angry with him? Is it because he broke your heart? I get the feeling he was the big love of your life.”

I ducked my head, pushing it into his chest so I couldn’t see him. Couldn’t see the rugged beauty that breathed Scottish hillsides and fresh air.