Page 28 of Better than Yesterday
The sight of her falling apart beneath me, her body clenching around mine in tight, pulsing waves, triggered my own release with devastating force. I drove into her onelast time, a raw, wordless roar tearing from my throat as I poured all my history, all my hunger, all my twelve years of waiting into her.
I collapsed on top of her and buried my face in her neck, my body shaking with the aftershocks. Our breathing was harsh and loud in the quiet room.
Slowly, reality filtered back in. The weight of my body pressing her into the mattress. The sweat-damp sheets tangled around our legs.
I rolled off her and pulled her against my side. She came willingly, her head settling on my chest, her hair fanning out over my skin in a dark-red curtain. I stared up at the ceiling, my mind utterly blank for a moment.
Until a single thought came through with perfect, damning clarity.
The word temporary was a joke.
It was the worst lie I’d ever told. Because this—Tessa in my arms, in my bed, in my life—wasn’t temporary. It was inevitable, like something I’d been waiting for since the moment she’d driven away twelve years ago. And in less than eleven weeks, she was going to leave again. I tightened my arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and wondered how the hell I was going to survive it.
Chapter Ten
TESSA
I woke to an unfamiliar stillness.Not the cold, empty silence of my rental townhouse, but something deeper—the quiet around me was lived-in, comfortable. Morning light filtered through plantation shutters, casting geometric shadows across the bedroom walls.
Braden’s bedroom.
Braden’s bed.
Yesterday rushed back in a sensory blur—my breakthrough discovery, the manic energy that had driven me to Tidal Hops, the way his control shattered when I kissed him. The kitchen. The bedroom. The feel of his body moving over mine, inside me, the raw intensity of his gaze.
I turned my head on the pillow. The other side of the bed was empty, the sheets cool to the touch. He’d been up for a while. Reality settled over me in a heavy, complicated weight.
What have I done?
The question wasn’t about regret. I couldn’t regretsomething that felt so completely, inevitably right. But my fear was sharp and immediate.
What happens now?
I sat up and pulled the sheet around me. My clothes were puddled on the floor—Braden must have picked them up from the hall where we’d left them last night. The sight made my stomach do a slow, nervous flip that was half desire, half anxiety.
I needed to think. To breathe. To figure out what came next before I faced him.
I gathered my clothes and dressed quickly, my hands clumsy with nerves as I tied the ripped part of the shirt into a knot. Satisfied my repair would work, I prepared to leave the room. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and faint sounds emanated from deeper in the cottage. I paused at the threshold, my heart hammering. Part of me wanted to flee, to slip out the front door and deal with this when I had time to construct a rational response. But after what we’d shared, Braden deserved more than me running away.
Again.
I pushed open the door and walked down the short hallway. The kitchen was flooded with morning light, all clean lines and stainless steel. Braden stood with his back to me at the counter, pouring coffee into a mug. He wore jeans and nothing else, his shoulders tense beneath tan skin, his hair still mussed from sleep and my hands.
The sight of him—bare and beautiful in his own space—made something twist deep in my chest.
“Morning,” I said quietly.
He turned, and the careful neutrality I’d been bracing for wasn’t there. His expression was stripped bare, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen. No charming smile, no deflecting humor. Just raw honesty.
“Morning.” His voice was rough, unused as he grabbed another mug and filled it. “Coffee?”
I crossed to him and took it, wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic, needing something to hold onto. Thick silence stretched between us. I opened my mouth to lighten the air, but he spoke first.
“I told myself I’d keep my distance. After that kiss on your doorstep, I promised I could handle it. That I’d maintain the boundaries.”
I stared at him, my heart thumping against my ribs.
“But then you walked into Tidal Hops yesterday.” He set his mug on the counter with a soft clink, his gaze never leaving mine. “And you were so alive, so brilliant, talking about your breakthrough. And I realized I’d been lying to myself.”
