Someone clears their throat and the moment is broken. The woman, the one with her hand on the front of his pants when I walked in, now stands beside us.
“Leave us.” His growl rumbles through my chest, eyes never wavering from me.
She jumps, eyebrows shooting to her hairline. Despite her shock or even dislike at his command, she doesn’t protest and scurries to a slightly ajar door to the left.
“I have to…” Longing radiates from him and strong arms wrap around me.
At first, I stiffen. His scent is overwhelming as is his large, muscled body. But my hesitation is fleeting and foolish, and I liquefy, melting into his embrace.
“Fuck, you’re real.” His voice cracks and tears prick at my eyes.
I nod, over and over again, and tears burst past the flimsy dam I’d spent all morning attempting to fortify.
I dug deep to find the strength to wade through the theft of the years apart, the time stolen from us. The life we were destined to possess.
In his arms, the boy I dreamed of, knew, and loved, rushes at me and I struggle to keep my head above the violent waves of all the yesterdays we had together.
Wading through the disorder of my emotions, air heaves from my lungs. The past is a formidable beast arising from the icy depths of the sea, starved for our flesh, blood, and tears.
“Yes, and you’re alive.” My fingers dig into his taut, defined back.
He presses his nose into my hair, mouth moving against my temple. “I love you.”
My knees buckle and my heart pangs, and he strengthens his grip. He’s got me, holding me tight and close to him.
He always had the power to undo me. Reduce me to a mass of feelings I could neither deny nor make sense of. In a breath or a blink, the years are erased. I’m that teenage girl again, and tingles spark and fire across my skin, my insides alive and ablaze.
“Eva.” He pulls away, but only to stand to his full height.
His hand cups my face, and my girlish heart skitters, a flash of heat building low in my core.
“How is this possible?” Adoring whiskey-colored eyes study my face. “I could look at you all day. I’m not sure if this is real. If not, I’m staying right here, like this, forever if it means I get to have you again.”
“It’s real. We’re both real.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a beat. “Come.”
Leading him by the hand, I sit on the plush, cream-colored couch, and he perches next to me, our legs touching, his fingers firmly wrapped around mine.
Almost as if he dare not let go for fear I should disappear. I know the feeling.
“I have to keep telling myself this is real.” Now it’s my turn to touch him, needing the tactile proof of it to calm my aching heart and tumultuous insides.
He isn’t going anywhere. I trail the rugged terrain of his stubbled, square jawline, smooth cheeks, and down the slope of his Roman nose. I caress the curved valleys under his dark, expressive eyes and pause at the crest of his prominent brow.
“They lied to us. Told us both the other was dead. Papi wanted us apart.”
“Fuuckkk.” His body tenses and eyes shut for a second. “He hated me that much?”
The sharp pain in his tone pierces my already battered heart, and all I’m able to muster is a nod. I’m ashamed and angry to think my own father could do such a thing.
“I don’t know what to say except sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re not to blame for this. Did you know I was alive?”
“No.” Shaking my head, I drop my hands into my lap and he grabs at one of them, securing it between both of his. “I’d never have agreed to leaving you. To making you think I’d died.”
“Wait, you said they. Who…” Recognition flashes across his defined features, and his head whips to the door where the redhead disappeared not too long ago.
I peer over my shoulder, following his gaze, and Bianca stands in the doorway, her expression pained. Two women are behind her, both gawking at us as if we’re in a play or movie. Entertainment.
“You knew, didn’t you?” His words are blades of steel. Cold, sharp, and unforgiving.
My sister blanches, her body trembling. “I can explain.” She inches toward us, uncertain if she should come closer or stay where she is. “I had no choice.”
“No choice?” He explodes, getting to his feet like the boom of his voice. “You fucking had a choice. We all have choices.”
“Jared.” Standing, I splay my fingers on his chest, and the wild thumping of his heart vibrates into the palm of my hand. “We can easily be derailed by the betrayal and lies. Let’s deal with that later. You can talk to Bianca another time. Let’s talk now. Just the two of us.”
Head dipping, all his attention is trained on me, and he offers a tight nod, pressing his full lips together. So many emotions are rolling off him, too many for me to process.
All I want right now is time alone with him, and I’m grateful to see I still have some influence over him, even when he is enraged.
“Bianca, leave.” My tone is colder than I intend but I’m raw, hurting, and nowhere close to getting past her deception.
“Eva.” She takes another step closer. “Please let me explain. Let me talk to you both.”
“No.” My icy glare chills her to the spot. “This isn’t about you. You don’t get a say right now. You’ve done enough.”
“Go,” he growls. “All of you. Now.”
Nodding, she spins on her heel, grabbing a bag from the table and ushering the two women to the front door. The blonde and redhead are fascinated, blatantly staring at us, and their scandal-mongering greed is clear to see. I can sense its ugliness around us, begging to stay.
I’m not of this world, of rock stars and groupies—I’m not even sure if that’s what they are, but it’s plain to see Jared is only a piece of meat to them. There’s no denying their predatory desires.
The bodyguard shuts the door behind the three, leaving just the two of us. Jared lets out a shuddering breath and sits once more.
He tugs at my hand for me to do the same. “I can’t even…I don’t know where to start. What to ask. I’ve got so many questions.”
“I know. I’m still reeling from it all.”
“Where have you been? What happened?”
“I’ve been in Barcelona. After the accident, I was in a coma for six months. They didn’t know if I would come out of it and what, if any, brain damage I would have.”
His arm slides around my shoulder, tucking me into his warm side. All the years, the loneliness, and dark moments without him fade.
He feels so good. Too good.
It would be so easy to pick up where we left off, despite the years and how I’m sure we’ve changed.
“How are you? What were your injuries?” Concern swims in the depths of his amber gaze.
“I’m okay. Years of physical therapy. I’d suffered a brain injury, but I know how to care for myself and I’m healthy. Good.” My hand squeezes his.
“They told me you died. When I woke up in the hospital, I was told you didn’t make it.” His voice wobbles, and he looks away for a beat or two before gathering his composure.
“My father came up with the lie. To tell you I died.” Even as I say the words, I question Bianca’s version and not because I can’t imagine my father doing such a thing. Sadly, he could. He has changed a lot since my mother’s death. But what bothers me is the fact that Bianca stayed in Jared’s life. Why would she do that?