Me. He’s trying to talk himself out of me. The realization hurts more than anything I’ve experienced in the last month. More than if he shoved the pages of my book back into my hands and told me it was shit. This is why it’s safer to have dinner with guys who would rather talk about their workout routines than bare their souls. Charles Hall was never going to break my heart.

My gaze falls to the sidewalk. A couple tumbles out of the restaurant, clinging to each other. Their laughter bubbles upward to be carried away in the night air. She sighs and rests her head on his shoulder as they fall into stride with each other and make their way down the street.

“I should go back inside.”

I make it one step in the direction of the door before Ryan lets out a strangled, “Scarlett.”

“What?” I face him again, dejected this time. “Look, we’ve been here before, Ryan. No matter how safe we think it is to toe the line between what we are and what we were, I can’t ignore the fact that I ultimately walked away because you’re better off without—”

Before I even know what’s happening, Ryan crosses the distance between us and kisses me. It’s frantic, his mouth covering mine as if he could stop my thoughts along with the words. His arms envelop me, and he presses his palms into my back, drawing me closer. Our bodies snap together in that old, familiar way. Muscle memory takes over, guiding hands and lips and tongues until we’re completely intertwined.

I don’t resist. How could I possibly, when every hope and word and dream I’ve ever had has always been so wrapped up in him that I don’t know where I end and he begins? I melt into him, open for him, grab the front of his shirt and desperately angle my head for more.

He breaks away from me, panting, before I’ve gotten nearly enough. Without thinking, I follow his retreat. I’ve gone without him for far too long—a woman on a diet, trying to convince myself that apples are a good substitute for chocolate, and now that I’ve tasted his decadence again, I doubt I’ll ever get enough.

On a moan, he indulges me, meeting my lips with his again, and any concern I may have had about whether or not he has been just as starved as I have is washed away with his kiss.

A whoop sounds from a group of guys passing by us on the sidewalk. Ryan and I both breathe out a laugh. He presses his forehead to mine, and when I open my eyes to look at him, his are still closed, his face calm and happy.