Page 22 of The Do-Over Girl

“Way to get us some publicity, Nash,” Kali says. “I bet a few of those videos go viral. I truly couldn’t have done a better job myself.” There’s nothing but admiration in her voice, except maybe a little pride. I wonder about that.

“Great job,” Nikki says. “I’m beat. See you Monday.” She leaves, and Archie says his goodbye. Neither of them offers me a ride, but as I look at Kali, smiling at me the way she is, I don’t know why I ever thought I was tired. Because all I feel now is energy. The kind that’s directly connected to her, the scent of her, that look in her eye—real or wishful thinking, I’m not sure.

But I’m sure as fuck going to find out.

“You’re full of surprises,” she says, her smile free and warm, and possibly for the first time, I see a hint of flirtation there.

“Good or bad?” Not that I care deep down, but I am interested in getting along to work together. “Or neutral?”

She ups her smile quotient, and my fucking heart speeds up for no good reason.

“Good. Definitely good. You were gracious and made a very generous gesture—fixing the place up and literally handing it back to the town.” She starts moving along the walkway to the street, and I move with her. “Ironically, the gesture to rename the arena for the town makes you more deserving to have it named for you, I think. Does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to me as long as that’s what you think.” A breeze flutters her hair, and a waft of her scent teases me as we turn right on Main street and head back to the inn.

“What did you do with the old sign?”

“Why? You want it for your bedroom wall? Your very own Nash Lewis monument? You could throw darts at it.”

She laughs and swats my arm, at ease enough for her sense of humor to return. Thank fuck. I can finally stop walking on thin ice. The muscles across my shoulders loosen, and I gravitate closer to her, no longer bothering to censor my natural inclination.

She gives me a teasing glance. “Seriously—I’m curious. Is your name a pile of rubble now?”

“I had Zappola Construction trash it, but I think he might have taken it as salvage.” I shrug. “I don’t care what happens to it honestly. It’s been something that’s made me uncomfortable all these years, and now it’s gone.”

“That’s revealing. You have a humble streak I’m not familiar with.” She grins.

“Don’t get used to it. I like to keep it to myself.” I look up at the night sky as she studies me, probably looking for whatever else I’m hiding. Good luck to her. Whatever else I have hidden is so deep I don’t even know about it.

As we close in on the inn, I breathe in the fresh air, appreciating the clean cool scent laced with sea salt and pine.

“I forgot how fresh the air is here,” she says, reading my mind.

“Everything here is fresh and clean. Except me. Maybe that’s why I never belonged.” I stop at the end of the walk and wrap an arm around her waist stopping her with me. I know I’m getting into dangerous territory, revealing things, letting my carnal instincts take over. But knowing it’s dangerous makes no fucking difference.

Once she shows no resistance to my arm around her, I pull her close.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Kali. Inside and out.”

Her mouth opens in a perfect O of astonishment. Her bright eyes are wide and unshielded, showing me her soul, showing me she still cares. The rest of her, as she leans against my body, shows me she still wants me—as in, carnally.

“You don’t mean that...” Her words are breathy, the rapid pulse in her neck anticipating something.

I tilt my face to speak in her ear. “What if I do?” I watch the goosebumps rise all over her neck and touch my lips to her earlobe. She shivers. I taste the delicate shell of her ear and release a shuddering breath because she’s so sweet, because I remember every little fucking thing about what drives her crazy, what melts her, how her mouth tastes.

“Nash…” she breathes my name like it’s a plea for something more.

So, I give her more. Trailing my mouth across her chin, I reach her lips and capture them with mine, possessing them in a kiss that demands everything, invading, tasting, wanting it all, to see if she still makes me feel the way she did back then.

Because I’ve never felt that way since. That kind of scorching no-holds-barred passion we shared was one of a kind in my life.

When she kisses me back, clutching her fingers in my too-long hair, I feel it. Oh man, do I fucking feel it—every last sensation like we’ve gone back in time, and we’re teenagers again in the street, and so hot we don’t care about anything else because there is nothing else more important than each other.

“Nash,” she says into my mouth, and I sweep her up the walk, holding onto her, kissing her hair and not letting her go, not letting her leave whatever space we’ve found, whatever bubble that’s allowed us a taste of our past bliss.

I push open the door, and when we get inside the dimly lit entry way, I back her against the wall.

“Come up to my room with me, Kali.” My invitation is more urgent than coaxing, my voice vibrating with something I haven’t felt since a lifetime ago. And I desperately want to hang onto it.