I do as she asks, my hand running down her side as my mouth stays fused to hers. She’s everything I remember but better. I’ve kissed this girl over a thousand times. I’ve felt her love, passion, and body so many times, but this is like something new.

We’re new.

This isn’t the old Grayson and Jessica, this is something new.

I never should’ve kissed her. I should stop, but there’s not a chance in hell of that happening.

My hand is moving back up her body, and I cup her breast, moving my thumb over her nipple.

She grips my back, trying to pull me tighter.

“Tell me to stop,” I say against her mouth.

Her eyes find mine, blazing with passion and desire. “I don’t want you to.”

“Jess . . .”

“Grayson, it’s you. You’re why I came here.”

“Christ,” I say before I kiss her harder and with everything inside me. She’s why I’m here.

I hoped that I’d find her here, and when I saw her, it was as though all the questions surrounding what we should be disappeared.

This may never work, but I can’t resist her.

I graze the skin where her shirt has lifted, moving my hand under the fabric. I push under the wire of her bra, letting the weight of her breast fill my hand perfectly.

She moans as I knead and rub her nipple. Her head moves to the side. “God, yes.”

I kiss down her neck, nipping at the skin right where it meets her shoulder before my tongue licks over that spot.

Her hips lift slightly, and I shift, needing to see her. “You’re so beautiful. Laying here in the spot where I fell in love with you. Your lips are swollen from my kiss.”

“And look at you . . .” Her eyes move over my face. “Your hair is mussed. Your eyes can’t move off me, and you . . . you found me.”

“I’ve been searching for you for years.”

Jess’s brows scrunch slightly. “What do you mean?”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything. “Nothing.”

Jessica sits up. “That’s not nothing, Gray.”

“I just mean that you’re the girl who I have never really forgotten. I’ve tried, fucking hell, I’ve tried. You’re everywhere, and I can’t forget, Jess. I can’t pretend that I don’t want you and us and . . .”

Her hand moves to my lips. “I tried too. And then my life literally came crashing down around me. Do you know what I thought of when that plane was falling?”

I wait, the masochist in me wanting her to say it was me. The realist keeping that side in check.

“Your life. Your family.”

“The man I let go,” Jess answers. “I thought about you and how I missed you.”

“You had a head injury.”