“How can you think it would end any differently than in some kind of fiery disaster, with us running in opposite directions, and the world burning down around our ears?”

I cup her chin and stare into her eyes. “Because this time I’m not giving up. Because with you and me against the world, we can’t lose.”

When my lips touch hers, everything else falls away, and the Whitney I remember comes to life in my arms.

I fumble for my door handle, thankful that my thumbprint opens it, and I pull her inside and pin her against the door.

Whitney claws at my shoulders even as she says against my lips, “We shouldn’t do this. This is a terrible idea. I’m cursed. I swear I am.”

“Shut up, Blue. I’m a hell of a lot more worried about you kissing me than cursing me.”

I lift her into my arms and carry her to my bed. The bed where I’ve never had another woman. The bed where I’ve only ever wanted this woman.

I’ve waited years for another chance. I’m not going to fuck it up.

Not this time.

Fifty

Whitney

I know it’s a bad idea. I know that I should stick to my guns and make him take me home, but sometimes, after life shovels so much shit in your direction, you just want one good thing.

Lincoln’s always been paradise and disaster wrapped in a beautiful package I can’t resist. Tonight, I’m willing to do anything to have one more chance to taste paradise. The rest of the world can wait until tomorrow.

Tonight is ours.

As he carries me into his bedroom, I don’t bother to look at the house. It doesn’t matter. He’s right. It’s only walls and windows and doors. None of it means anything. I know all about living a life that looked perfect from the outside, but was completely hollow.

The only thing that matters is Lincoln and me, and shutting up the voices in my head that won’t let me forget how much of a failure I am.

When he lays me down on the smooth coverlet, the voices finally go silent. The only thing left in my brain is Lincoln.

“I’ve waited ten years for this moment. I’m going to take my time.”

My entire body shivers as he reaches for the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it over his head, revealing a stomach that’s still flat and hard. His rounded pecs and shoulders seem even broader and thicker than I remember, but his eyes are still the same. The hazel flashes with heat as he stares down at me before coming toward the bed, his jeans still on. He kneels between my legs and kisses me like he’d die if he had to wait another moment to taste my lips. The same way he always kissed me.

My body heats as he trails his mouth along my chin, skimming my ear, and then down my throat.

“Please . . .” I don’t even know what I want, but I’m already begging for whatever he’ll give me.