31. Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-One

Indy — Now

N olan’s words grazed my mouth as his lips did, smooth and tender. I parted mine, welcoming the touch. He kissed me slowly, thoroughly. Like he had all the time in the world and was savoring me.

But then he pulled back, the kiss over before it had truly begun. He rested his forehead against mine, his breath feathering over my cheek. Maybe it was because he was as breathless as I was, or maybe it was the way he clutched me as tightly as I did him, but I murmured, “Why’d you stop?”

He let out a low curse before his lips were on mine again. Before he’d kissed me with patience, as though testing the waters to see what I wanted. All of that caution was gone, replaced with urgent need.

He kissed like a thief, like a man who knew what he wanted and took with no regard. I met him with every kiss, every stroke of his tongue, unable to deny the need pulsing through my veins. One hand still knotted in my hair, his other wrapped around my lower back and lifted me up. Following the prompting, I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms tight around his neck.

I kissed him without thought—this was the most natural thing in the world. He tightened his hold in my hair and pulled, urging me to expose my neck. His teeth grazed my jaw, and I let out a breathless cry, not of pain but relief.

This felt so right.

“Peaches.”

I slipped a hand between us and under his shirt, my nails trailing down his abdomen. His lips were back on mine, stealing my breath. I didn’t care.

“I’ve thought of this for years. How you would mold to me the same, taste the same—”

I bit his lip, silently returning the thought. How much I’d thought of him, longed for him, even when I didn’t want to. I broke free of his lips to tell him I needed more, but then I was on my back, sprawled out beneath him.

He kissed me once, twice, a dozen times before he pulled back. He was on his hands and knees, his body caging mine as he watched me like he was admiring his work. My breaths were needy gasps, my body pulsing with endless desire, but there was something tender in his eyes that scared the hell out of me.

Before I could convince myself otherwise, I choked out, “We should stop.”

He blinked, seeming to sober immediately, and moved off me. Breathless, I sat up, grateful for the space he put between us. His frame was tight, straining. But the smile he gave me was easy, like I hadn’t inconvenienced him at all. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. I was struggling to gather my thoughts, but I didn’t want Nolan’s apology. “Don’t be. I wanted it as much as you did.” I squeezed my eyes shut, the knot in my stomach growing with each waking moment I registered what I’d done. Accepting there was no running from it, I cleared my throat. “I think it’s safe to say we both got a little caught up in the moment. But it’s okay—we stopped before any real mistakes happened.”

He dropped his smile, unable to mask his surprise. “You—you think that was a mistake?”

“Yeah.” I lifted my shoulder. “I do.”

He scoffed. “Well, I don’t.”

I stared at him. This was a mistake—one I’d wanted—but a mistake nonetheless. “We’re getting divorced,” I reminded him, needing him to remember the plan. We were supposed to repair the past, find some sort of peace, and then get the hell away from each other. Anything more than that wasn’t an option. I didn’t want to hurt him. I didn’t want to get hurt. “We shouldn’t have done that, and we can’t again. It’ll only further complicate things and make it harder when it’s quitting time. We’ll undo any work we’ve done, and we’ll walk away hating each other more—”

“I never hated you.” His voice was unwavering. “I never have and I never will. But I would rather you hate me than let you walk away and pretend I haven’t thought about you every day I’ve known you—”

“I am leaving,” I cried, needing him to understand that. “At the end of this month, I’m flying to New York and I’m not coming back.”

“Then why are you still here?” He held his arms out at his side. “You’re not working at the diner, and I bet you can do just about everything from afar to prepare for the fundraiser, so why not go back to New York now?”

I gaped at him, struggling to find a response. “Because we made a deal.”

He shook his head, not buying it. “If that’s the case, we can call it quits. I’ll sign the divorce papers and give you the money right now if that’s the only reason you’re still here.” It wasn’t about the money. It had never been about the money, and from the determination in his eyes, he knew it. “Tell me why you’re still here, Indy.”

“Because I’m not ready to say goodbye,” I admitted in a rush. “Because I haven’t fixed anything. With you. My parents. Me. Everything in me hurts, and I need it to not be that way. I don’t even know who I am or what I want out of life—but I can’t lose myself in you again. I loved you with everything I was, and when I lost you, it broke me. And more than anything, I refuse to hurt you again, Nolan. Nothing is worth that to me.”

“It is to me.” He reached for me, and I knew it was entirely selfish on my part, but I didn’t stop him from weaving his fingers with mine. “Break my heart, Indy. Break it once, twice, a hundred times if you want. I’ll think it’s worth it every time.”

My eyes burned, the barely healed fractures in my heart cracking. I couldn’t do this. He wasn’t even mine, and it was already going to hurt like hell to leave. Before, it had felt like I had to carve his soul from mine, and I’d been left with scraps. I wouldn’t survive losing him again. Deep down, Nolan knew he wouldn’t either. I couldn’t throw his life any more off its axis .

He deserved the world. The wife. The kids. A home that never felt empty.

And I couldn’t give that to him.

I shook my head, removing my hand from his. “I’ve never been able to fulfill your dreams, Nolan. I can’t give you what you want, and I’m sorry for that.”

Nine years ago, that would’ve been the end of us. He would’ve let me go. He had let me go. He’d broken our promise and divorced me—or tried to. But now, Nolan seemed bound and determined to not let me leave. “After years of pain and being alone, wouldn’t it be nice to feel something else for a change?” His voice was heartbreakingly soft, and when I didn’t respond, he pressed, “You know what I think? I think you believe you deserve to hurt. You’ve felt nothing but blame and guilt for so long, you’re afraid to feel anything else. You feel something for me, something you always have, and it terrifies you.”

I took a step back. I needed to leave before we made any more mistakes. But I couldn’t find it in me to walk away, not as Nolan said, “I’d do anything to have one more day with Dad, Indy. What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same for you?” He stepped forward, and I felt every bit of his words, down to my core. “What happened tonight? That wasn’t a mistake. And even if it was—it’s one I’d make every single time. So as long as you’re here, I’m fighting for you.”

He turned and walked back to camp, not waiting for my reply. But as I watched him, it didn’t feel like he was walking away. It felt like he was walking toward something instead.

No longer did I care about our kiss, whether it was a mistake or not.

It was clear I’d made a bigger one.

When we made our deal to stop holding back, to stop letting life decide for us, it hadn’t occurred to me he’d see it as a challenge to stop holding back with me. And despite what the record might show, it wasn’t often Nolan didn’t get what he wanted. He worked harder than anyone I knew.

I’d have to work even harder, then.