“You’re not a fly by because I know you only get hot coffee around the holidays, when it’s gingerbread-flavored or peppermint-flavored or has eggnog added.”

“I—what?” That answer throws me for such a loop that I’m dizzy.

“You have a strange obsession with colored Post-it Notes. When you haven’t washed your hair, you wear it up in a bun. You ask your dad about the weather and pretend like you care because you know he does. You can’t drive anywhere until you’ve picked the perfect song. You have a dimple on your left cheek, but not your right one. And you deserve everything, Evie. A hell of a lot more than I can ever give you.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both.”

I expected the answer. It still stings. “You know a lot about me.”

“I guess that’s what happens when you’ve known someone for twenty years.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I twist my head so my lips can reach his. He kisses me back. Sweetly. Softly. And it hurts. I seek out more pleasure to counteract the pain, sliding my hand down his chest. I tug at his shirt, wanting it off, and he complies, finally shedding his jeans as well so we’re skin-to-skin. My fingers trace the valleys of his abs before fisting his cock. He groans into my mouth. One palm slides down my ribs, passing the small of my back, gliding over the curve of my ass. He hooks his hand around my knee and pulls it upward, opening my thighs. I’m right atop his erection, and I rub against his length. I could come from this alone, but I don’t want to. Especially since I think this might be goodbye.

He slides into me slowly, inch by inch. I memorize each piece of this moment.

The slight curve of his lips.

The expression on his face—half-awed and half-cocky.

The way he smells like soap and salt.

Gray rolls us, so he’s hovering above me. He kisses me in time with his thrusts. It’s a gradual build, like climbing a peak you can see in the distance. You want to reach it, but you’re trying to enjoy the climb. Prolong the journey.

I twine my fingers in his hair, wishing I possessed the strength to keep him here.

The rest of the world fades away. It’s just me and him and the languid way he’s moving.

I feel happy. Protected. Cherished.