Page 96 of Something Spontaneous

I slide off the edge of my bed and stand in the narrow aisle of my van, stepping toward him. My hand finds the edge of the countertop across from him to steady myself.

“And? You, what? Thought I stopped existing?” I stand firm, looking down at him on the bench. “The Sly Sterling I remember never would’ve given up.”

“No, Bunny. Far fucking from it.” His blue eyes chill into something icy. “I knew you kept existing. I knew you had grown into who you were meant to be and had probably flourished like you never would have back home. I, on the other hand…” A labored breath forces its way from his lungs. “Had not. I was still in our shit-hole town. I was still doing the same job. Worst of all, if I thought I could keep up with you before, there was no way I could’ve after my accident. There was no point in coming after you. I was a shell of myself then. I’d lost you once before. I just lost my leg, and the thought of opening myself to more hurt wasn’t even fathomable. Even if I had managed to track you down, and I was lucky enough for you to give me the time of day, I would’ve only held you back. That version of me you remember, the one you loved and was finally ready to come find you, would have never held you back like I would now.”

He drops his head in defeat, and my heart aches for him. I step closer and grab his chin between my fingers. As much as I love those dimples, a voice in the back of my head screams about how good his beard would feel in my hand, if he still had it. I tune that voice out, because dimples versus beard is hardly important in this moment.

What matters to me is that Sly—the boy I loved, the man I still do—is filleting any shred of his armor in front of me, and he is hurting.

“Sly.” My voice is terse, and I wonder if it’s too harsh for this moment. I grip his chin and force him to look up at me from the bench. “You think you would have held me back?”

He nods, and his stubble scrapes over the pads of my fingers.

“I’m not making any promises, but if we ever want a chance at us ever having any future—no matter what it looks like—you need to do one thing for me.” I stare into those cobalt pools until I see the acceptance, and I know he’s listening. “You need to remember how we got here. You decided ten years ago that you, and our hometown, would hold me back. Five years ago, you did it again. So, from now on, remember I decide what—if anything—is going to hold me back, not you. I’m still that same girl you remember—maybe with a few new tricks—and I’m always going to do whatever I want. Got it?”

His throat bobs, and he nods. “Yeah. Got it.”

I feel my lips tug up into a grin.

“Good. Now, sit back, Sly,” I say, enunciating each word with a renewed sense of determination. My eyes drill into his, and he gives me a curious look before I push my hand into his chest, shoving him against the back of the bench seat. This time, he tilts his head to avoid hitting it on the cabinets and I grin. “Fast learner.”

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I love that I can let go around him, shut off my constantly working brain, and let him be in control. But in this moment, I need to take charge.

For him. For me. For us.

I step toward him and lean down, bringing my lips to his ear. For a second, I nearly forget what I want to say when I inhale, filling my lungs and flooding my senses with that leathery, minty goodness I’ve been craving all day.

I’ve given up on any hope of overcoming my addiction to Sly Sterling.

Part of me wishes we’d spent more nights together in my van so his scent would linger on my pillows, on my sheets, on everything a bit longer; he is better than any weighted blanket. I thought years away from him could cure me, but it only took one kiss. I tried to convince myself that kiss meant nothing and was only to mess with him and ward off Meredith. Instead, it woke up cravings I passed off as naïve nostalgia.

One burning thought eats at me and makes all that irrelevant. Looking into the depths of his eyes, I see the ghosts of pain and self-loathing that I want to make disappear and never let rear their ugly heads again. The idea that this man thinks he could ever hold me back is laughably cruel. It’s even more cruel that he thought his disability would change my feelings about him. All I ever wanted was him and that big heart he keeps buried away.

I breathe him in and lightly drag my fingernails up his thighs and inch those perfectly short shorts up. He swallows hard enough that I can hear it.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?” His raspy voice and warm breath against my neck stoke the fire that’s burning low in my belly.

“I’m going to make it very clear that you could never hold me back.” I nip at his ear. “Take off the fucking shorts, Sly.”

CHAPTER 42

SLY

Strap It On

I know when to pick my battles, and I’d be a stupid man to not do what she’s asking right now. The second she leaned over me and I felt the open strands of her fishnet top graze my chest, I was never going to tell her no. Then again, I never want to tell her no another day in my life.

It doesn’t matter that she pried the one truth I was hoping to not reveal right out of me. I never wanted to be the reason why she couldn’t realize her dreams in life. It took years for me to come to terms with the mistake I made, and that maybe I could fix things—that maybe I could win her back. That’s when fate gave me the fucking middle finger of my life, and I thought there was no coming back from that. Even if she’d given me the time of day, and I’d somehow earned a precious place in her life, I was right back to being in the position where I would be the thing holding her back.

None of that matters right now.

No. From her commanding tone, to the lingering bite of pain from her nipping at my ear, I know what my girl wants. I’m never going to deny her—ever.

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to have some fun, though, because there’s one undeniable truth about being in Josie Hare’s orbit—it’s never dull, it’s always a thrill, and pushing her buttons only makes it better.

“Why?” I growl, sliding my fingertips down her side over the fishnet top. Part of me wants to laugh at how all five-foot-nothing of her is trying to be intimidating, but her fiery side is sexy and makes me crave her even more. “Have something in mind that requires taking them off?”