She ruins me.

“Reece!”

I’m halfway across the parking lot, and I barely hear her over the still-thundering rain, but now I do turn back. “Damn it, Lucy, get back—”

She apparently didn’t expect me to stop, because her body slams into mine, our breath whooshing out, although I think it’s more from the proximity than it is the collision.

“I really mattered?” she asks, breathing hard and looking up at me.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to punish her. To say yes, she mattered, but to emphasize the past tense. She mattered once. No longer.

But damn it. She does matter. Present tense.

I don’t have the words. I’ve never had the words to tell her how I felt about her back then, and I don’t have them now. Hell, I’m not even sure I know how I feel about her right now.

She’s stubborn and provocative and infuriating, and…

Fuck it.

I plunge a hand into her hair and pull her face up to mine so that my mouth can claim hers.

I groan the second our lips touch, and my fingers flex slightly in her damp hair when I feel her stiffen. Don’t. Don’t pull away.

Then Lucy’s lips soften beneath mine, leaning into the kiss as her arms wind around my neck.

I tell myself to keep it casual, to not devour her in the middle of a parking lot during a summer thunderstorm from hell, but restraint’s never really been my thing, especially not with Lucy Hawkins.

Her kiss is both sweet and dangerous, both teasing and passionate, and lest she get confused about who’s driving this kiss, I slide my hand down slightly, gripping the back of her neck as my other arm wraps around her, dragging her all the way against me.

I nudge her lips apart and she lets me in with a soft gasp.

Mine. Always mine.

Lightning flashes, thunder barks, and the wind rips the rain viciously against us, but I don’t notice. I’m not aware of anything but her and her warmth.

Lucy’s nails claw at my head, my neck, and each nip of pain is the perfect counterpoint to the softness of her mouth.

I was right. Nobody tastes like Lucy, no girl’s soft moans have ever got me at the gut level like hers have.

If only she’d given me a chance all those years ago, if only she’d stayed—

I tear my mouth away, pushing her back none-too-gently.

She stumbles a little, and I reach out a hand to steady her, but she finds herself quickly and shakes me off. “Regrets already, Sullivan?”

Her tone is snide, and I blink through the sheet of rain. Just like that we’re fighting again.

She opens her mouth, and I hold up a hand. “Don’t. If you’re going to say something about other women, or fucking Abby, just save it. You think whatever you want about me, but I’m done pretending that your opinion matters.”

Without another word, I walk away. Let her see how she likes it.

I get the key to another room, one door down from Lucy’s original room.

When I get back, my bag’s outside the door.

I glance toward the door where the creeper is staying, then rap an impatient knuckle against her door. “Lucy. This door locked? I know you’re mad, but don’t forget the creepy neighbor.”

There’s no answer, but a second later my phone buzzes.

Yes. And for what it’s worth, I’d rather deal with HIM than YOU.

I roll my eyes and pick up my bag. I see we’re reaching new heights of maturity today.

I go into my room, which is every bit as gross as the one she’s staying in.

I lie on the bed, but I keep jumping off the mattress with every thump, every creak, looking outside every half hour to make sure the creeper keeps his distance from Lucy.

In between these bouts of protecting her, the kiss plays on repeat in my head like a movie, and even when I drift off to sleep, she’s waiting there too, consuming my dreams.

That’s no surprise though.

Lucy Hawkins has been doing that for years.

Chapter 26

Lucy

My scribbling in my travel journal is so ferocious that my pen tears the page.

I heave out a sigh, breathing hard as I look down at the torn paper, my usually friendly, looping handwriting all hard and slashy, as I rant about how Reece keeps proving again and again that he’s not long-term material. He’s the sort of guy you chase in the rain for a hot kiss, not the sort of guy you walk down the aisle toward.

A summer fling? That’s what he thought he was? I was thinking of marrying the idiot, and he thought it was just a summer fling?

I can’t even.

I attack the page with the pen again, ranting on and on about how he wasn’t a summer fling then, but that’s all he is now. A hot guy who’s got nothing going for him other than the fact that he kisses really, really well…

I groan in frustration and toss the notebook aside. I can’t remember the last time I felt so…mad.

Mad at the way Reece makes me feel. Hopeful and wary and hot, all at the same time.

I can still taste his kiss, but my entire body’s on edge with want. I just can’t decide if it’s the want to be naked beneath him, or to shove him into traffic.

My head snaps up as I hear a knock on the door.

My heart pounds, and I’m not sure if it’s out of fear that it’s the weird dude next door or if it’s Reece.

I swallow. “Yeah?” I call.

Nothing.

I swing my legs off the bed, walk to the door, and look out the peephole.

Reece.

His arms are crossed, his shoulders tense, as he glares at my door.