“Is it always like that?” I ask as the transcendent sensation begins to fade.

“Not for me.”

I roll onto my side and snuggle up against the firm planes of his body, resting my head in its favorite spot between his chin and his shoulder. Jace wraps his arms around me to pull me closer, and I sigh in contentment.

“Thank you,” I whisper against his warm skin. Jace doesn’t reply, but his grip around me tightens.

Neither of us acknowledge the late night events that occurred the following morning.

The day passes by quickly. I cook eggs for breakfast, and we eat them out on the porch. I sunbathe on one of the lounge chairs that surrounds the pool, while Jace swims laps in the heated water. We make sandwiches and walk along the beach before eating them amongst the dunes.

It’s as though nothing ever happened. I never told him the truth, and we never had sex. The only reminder of our night together is the ache I woke up with between my legs.

Four o’clock arrives before I know it. I reluctantly zip the bag filled with the many outfits I never actually wore. I walk down the hallway to find Jace closing up his own bag. I pause to look inside his bedroom for a moment. Flashes of last night play back in my mind, and my cheeks flush. Jace glances up and catches me blushing. He grins in a way that suggests he knows exactly what I’m thinking about, but doesn’t say a word.

We head out onto the cobbled driveway and the front gate opens immediately, announcing Julie and Steve’s arrival in another taxi. Jace and I climb inside silently after depositing our bags in the trunk.

“Good trip?” Julie asks, looking between our somber faces in confusion.

I nod, my stomach sinking as we pull away from the lavish beach house where the best and one of the worst moments of my life took place.

The drive to the airport, the flight back to Michigan, and the drive back to campus are all mostly silent.

I pull up in front of the blue house just before nine. The lights in every window seem to be on, blazing in the darkness.

We sit in the silent car for a long moment. I don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t seem to either.

“I should go,” Jace finally says, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay,” I whisper.

Jace sits in the passenger seat for a while longer, then finally opens his door and climbs out. He reaches into the back seat to retrieve his duffle bag and stands there, gazing at it in his hands. Cold air rushes past him into the interior of the car and I shiver, still dressed for South Carolina’s temperate climate. Jace notices the movement, and it seems to jerk him out of his reverie.

“I wouldn’t change it,” he tells me. “Even knowing it all now. How it will end. I still wouldn’t change it, Viv.”