Lost in Me, Page 46

  ***

  Present Day

  Nate’s sitting on the edge of the big bed, elbows on his knees, studying the floor.

  Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I push myself up and lean against the headboard. Next to me on the nightstand, my engagement ring stares back at me. I took it off last night. I should have left it at home. Ignoring it, I grab my phone to check the time. There’s another message.

  Nix: Please call me soon!

 

  “I’m sorry. I’ll get dressed and get out of here.” I scramble to the edge of the bed.

  He stops me with a hand on my wrist. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, trying for chipper, but I don’t feel it. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You took off the ring.” He massages the back of his neck. “It’s over?”

  “It needs to be. I don’t know how I’m supposed to move forward when what we have behind us hurts so much.”

  He studies me, his eyes full of thoughts I can’t read and know he won’t share. “You can stay here as long as you want. Take some time. Think things through. Jamaal will be here. He’ll get you anything you need.”

  I tuck my feet under me and sit next to him. He’s already dressed in dark jeans and a white button-up dress shirt. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “I leave for Afghanistan this morning.”

  A memory flickers. “You’re performing for the troops?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How long until you leave?”

  He cuts his eyes to me and pushes off the bed. “My driver’s waiting out front.”

  “Is this it? Is this…goodbye? For good?”

  He closes his eyes. “It has to be. ”

  I slide off the bed and touch my hand to his face. “How am I supposed to let you go?” I run my fingers along his jaw. “It’s the right thing to do, but—” My voice breaks.

  He cups my jaw, his fingers sliding into my hair. “I know your memory isn’t the greatest right now,” he says. “So I’m going to tell you the things I need you to remember for me.”

  “Okay.”

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.” He swallows and braves a tentative smile. “You’re like the sun—completely blind to your own beauty because you are so busy making everyone around you shine. No matter how far we hide in the shadows, you share your light. That’s how you stole my heart when no one else could find it.”

  It hurts to breathe. “Nate.”

  Steps sound outside the heavy bedroom doors. “The plane’s waiting, Crane.” Jamaal’s voice. “Time to head out.”

  Nate ignores him and keeps his dark eyes locked on mine.

  “You have to go.”

  He holds me tight. “One more thing.”

  “What?” I don’t know if I can handle anything else.

  “Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for giving something I never thought I deserved. And for giving it without expectation or condition. You made me believe I was worth it.”

  I shake my head, unsure of this metaphor. “My light?”

  “Your love.” He drops his hands and steps back.

  I gulp in air and watch him back toward the door. Turn the knob. Walk away.

  When he shuts the door behind him, I race to the bathroom, turning on the shower full blast because I can’t stand the idea of letting him hear me cry.

  I bite my fist to block the sobs, but they come anyway—thick and angry, ugly sobs of grief and self-pity. Because I don’t have to know anything else about Nate Crane to know I love him. And he just said goodbye.

  When the mirror is obscured by steam, I peel off my sleep clothes and step under the spray, letting it pound against me. I close my eyes and imagine the water can wash away all my heartache, all my fears and confusion. I lean my head against the glass enclosure and let the tears come.

  My body rocks with my sobs. They tear out of me like my body rejecting poison. I let them come, and I let the water wash them away until my breathing evens and my tears are gone.

  I don’t know I’m not alone until hot, rough hands are on my bare shoulders, and Nate is turning me around.

  “Nate,” I breathe.

  He’s fully clothed, the water streaming down his face as he looks at me. “Why’d you have to forget?” Then his mouth is on mine, lips and tongue and teeth, taking and demanding and punishing.

  I want this kiss too much to do anything but return it in kind. I suck at his lower lip and explore his mouth with my tongue. His taste is new and familiar all at once.

  My hands go into his hair and I hold him close. I’m afraid he might disappear—that this might prove to be a hallucination—but he’s solid under my hands. Water pours over us as we devour each other’s mouths, and my hands find their way from his hair to his shoulders, his chest, and finally down to the hem of his shirt.

  His mouth leaves mine just long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head and throw it to the shower floor. Then he’s stepping into me again. One leg between my thighs, he presses me against the wall as his mouth returns to mine.

  His kiss is softer this time. Slower, sweeter, and less desperate. If he was feasting on me before, now he’s savoring me, and I let him. I savor him in return. The last sips of a precious bottle of wine, the last moments of a fleeting dream.

  I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what this means for tomorrow or next week. Right now, I don’t care. I just need his hands on me, his taste on my tongue. I blindly grope for the button on his jeans. Releasing it, I shove them down his hips, and he kicks them away.

  His hands grip my hips and he slides my body up the glass until my feet are off the ground and I’m resting on his thigh. The pressure is so perfect and so sweet. He rips his mouth from mine and moves to my neck as a hand cups my breast. I’m a mess of sensation and I don’t want it to end—the press of his thigh between my legs, the tease of his thumb against my nipple, the scrape of his mouth against my neck.

  “I’ve missed this,” he murmurs.

  Leaning my head back, I give up and let my eyes float shut. “What have you missed?”

  “No, Hanna,” he growls. “Look at me. I want you to remember who’s touching you.”

  I force my eyes open and am treated to the sight of his head dipping to my breast. “Oh God.” I should stop him. I shouldn’t let it go this far. We both know what this is. A stolen moment. An extended goodbye. But his teeth scrape my nipple, and instead of protesting, I’m arching into his mouth, urging him on.

  He squeezes my breast and groans as he lifts his head and returns his eyes to mine. He flicks my earlobe with his tongue. “I’ve missed your taste.” He pinches my nipple between his fingers. “The way you cry out when I touch you.” He repositions me between himself and the wall until my thighs cradle the bulge of his erection. “I missed the heat of your pussy when you’re turned on.”

  Then his mouth is on mine again, his hands tangling in my wet hair as he devours me.

  “The plane?”

  “It’s mine. It can wait.”

  Eventually, we make our way out of the shower and dry each other with fluffy white towels. Then he takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom. He slides under the covers with me. The frantic pace of the shower is gone and in its place is the steady beat of a grief-filled love song. He traces every line of my body with his fingers then his tongue. Love and need fill me so completely they hold together the pieces of my broken heart.

  When Nate settles his head by mine on the pillow, his eyes are as tender as they are hot. “I have to let you go,” he whispers. “This has to be goodbye.”

  My throat grows tight. “I know.”