Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Emma takes a step closer, her boots sinking into the snow, leaving small, perfect prints. Her expression softens, and I see her defenses start to crack, just a little. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my jacket, and her touch is a jolt straight to my system, electric, warm. “You don’t have to be that guy, Slate. Not with me.”
Her words hit me like a punch, and for a second, I don’t know what to say. My throat tightens, and all that frustration, all that longing I’ve held back, comes spilling out. “I want this,” I admit, my voice breaking, rough around the edges. “I want you. I want a future with you. But I’m scared, Emma. Scared that I’ll mess it up, scared that I’ll lose you again, and this time it’ll be for good.”
Her gaze softens even more, and she takes another step, until she’s so close I can feel the heat of her body cutting through the cold, seeping into me. “I get it, Slate. I’m scared too. But I don’t want to spend my life running away from things that might hurt. I don’t want to keep wondering what could have been.”
The words slam into me, breaking open all the barriers I’ve tried to keep in place. My breath hitches, and I see the shine in her eyes, the determination that twists something deep in my chest. She looks at me like she’s finally ready to see what’s right in front of her, and it terrifies me.
But it also makes me hope.
“I’m ready to stay,” she says, her voice steady but threaded with emotion that cuts through me. “Not just for you, but for me. I want to build a life here. I want to find a way to make my dreams fit with yours. And I know it won’t be easy, but I think... I think it could be worth it.”
Her words hit like a rush of warmth, melting away some of the cold that’s been locked up inside me. I reach out, cupping her face with hands that tremble despite the chill in the air. My thumb brushes over the curve of her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin, the heat beneath. “You really mean that?”
She leans into my touch, her eyes slipping shut for a moment, like she’s soaking in the feel of me. When she opens them again, there’s a fierceness there that takes my breath away. “Yeah, Slate. I do. I’m tired of being afraid of what I might lose. I want to be brave enough to fight for what I want—for us.”
Her words make something snap inside me, something that’s been coiled tight since the moment she left. I bend down, resting my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling in the cold air, warm puffs that drift up toward the clear sky. I close my eyes, letting myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we can make this work. That this time, things could be different.
“Then let’s do this,” I murmur, my voice rough with the promise that’s building in my chest. “Let’s start over, Emma. No more running, no more hiding. Just us, figuring it out together.”
She nods against me, her hands coming up to curl into the fabric of my jacket, gripping like she’s afraid I might slip away. “Together,” she repeats, her voice soft but fierce, the word a promise that makes my throat ache. “Whatever happens, we face it. No more looking back.”
I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her, feeling the way her body molds to mine. She fits against me like she always did, like she always should have. My lips brush against her temple, lingering there, and for a second, the world around us fades away—the mountains, the snow, the hurt and fear. All that’s left is her, and the hope of something new.
Her breath shudders against my neck, and she presses closer, her hands sliding up to cup my jaw, her thumbs brushing over the stubble there. I feel the heat of her breath, the warmth of her mouth so close to mine, and it sends a jolt through me, a fire that has nothing to do with the sun beating down on us. “You’ve always been stubborn, Slate,” she whispers, a smile curving against my skin. “But I think I love you for it.”
I pull back just enough to look at her, my own smile tugging at my lips, rougher than hers but no less real. “And you’ve always been impossible, Emma. But hell if that doesn’t make me want you more.”
She laughs, a sound that’s raw and sweet and cuts through the last of the tension hanging between us. I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers, tasting the cold on her lips, the heat beneath. The kiss is slow, gentle, but there’s a hunger there too, a promise that we’re just getting started.