His words. His thoughtful words. His attentive stare, possessive hands, and scent, all immobilizing. We’ll be naked in mere minutes.

I lick my lips, my mouth as dry as Aleck’s humor. His pale blue eyes leave mine. He dips his face into my neck, breathing in deep. My body goes slack against his.

“Baby, please…” he whispers. “Let me in. Let me make us whole again.”

The sound of him calling me baby cracks my heart wide open, exposing the pain inside to the world. I feel the wetness of tears on my cheek, rolling past my chin to my neck. Aleck’s tongue presses into my skin, making my hands slide over his waist, and he licks them up as I hug him into my body.

“I can’t be without you anymore, Winter. Give me another chance.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, a demand. His deep and controlled tone resonated between my legs.

Give me another chance. That’s what Brian said, too…

“I haven’t been with anyone else.” Aleck’s warm breath tickles my ear and my heart constricts. “Only you, baby.”

God, it’s everything I’ve wanted to hear since he left. But I can’t do this. When will be the next time he disappears? When will he realize he’s not cut out for commitment? I’ll always fear that.

Say something to keep him away. Say anything…

“I wish I could say the same.” The words leave my lips before I’ve thought them through.

Aleck’s lips lift from my skin, but his face remains buried in my neck. The torturous sound of nails scoring wood makes me grimace as Aleck slowly balls his splayed hand into a fist against the cupboard beside my ear. His other hand tightening around my hip. His head lifts slowly, alarmingly measured.

“Why is that, Winter?” His gaze settles on me like the barrel of a gun.

When I say nothing, his jaw tightens, his teeth grinding against each other.

“What the fuck did you do?”

“Not that I owe you any explanations, Aleck, but I tossed a potentially good relationship out the window to be with you, and you destroyed that. You had a chance to be with me and you passed it by. That was your choice.”

“The fucking surfer...” His tone is low and soaked in malice. “Tell me you didn’t fuck that shithead Kingsley, Winter.”

Again, I say nothing. Which, to Aleck, is more resolute than a conclusive yes, I knew.

Every muscle in Aleck’s body tightens as he holds onto his composure. “Tell me. You didn’t fuck. The shithead Kingsley, Winter!”

“I can’t,” I spit, holding my chin higher than I deserve, having lied.

Truthfully, I haven’t spoken to Dylan since I called to end any prospect we may have had as a couple. Which, if I’m honest, wasn’t much to begin with. Was he hot? Absolutely. Did I want to ride him like a surfboard? Again, yes. But I didn’t have feelings for him. Not truly. Something was missing between us—a feeling I feel for Aleck in spades.