He was so close. His fingers still felt soft on my skin. The old scars that had faded but not disappeared warned me that the person in front of me had caused me pain. The things he had made me feel were ugly, and I should make him leave and make him stay away from me.

But those scars were only skin deep. Beneath them were my heart, the parts of me that bled, my soul, and the Erin who could forgive and smile regardless of the past hurt. The protected pieces had gone untouched by anyone but Weston.

“I want you to stay,” I whispered.

He exhaled, so surprised that he almost didn’t trust what he’d heard. “What?” His eyes met mine, and he leaned in, stopping just an inch from my lips.

“You heard me,” I said quietly.

“I promised your dad I wouldn’t. I got a hotel room.”

I bit my bottom lip, staring at his. “Stay.”

His eyebrows pulled in, conflict scrolling across his face. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”

I spread my legs wider, pulling him toward me, and I rested my hands on his shoulders. They were thicker than I remembered. I trailed down his arms until I reached his fingers that tenderly lingered against my jaw. I gripped them in my own and lowered them to my backside, never taking my eyes from his.

His mouth hovered just out of reach, and I could taste each breath he panted in anticipation.

His breath caught. “I just want to hear that you still love me. If want me, Erin…I’m all yours.”

“I love you.” My voice was barely a whisper.

His body stiffened before he lifted me in his arms, blindly carrying me into the bedroom. He lowered my body to the bed as if I were weightless. He stood before me and stripped off his shirt. When his toned chest and the ridges of his abdomen came into view, I knew that he had been using the gym to escape the misery he’d described.

I tugged off my sweater as he slipped his boots from his feet and unbuttoned his jeans. His eyes locked on mine as he slid them down over his hips, revealing the staggering V-shaped muscles below.

Weston gripped my heel in his hand as he unzipped my tall leather boot before sliding it off, and then he did the same to the other. The corners of his mouth turned up into a ghost of a smile as his fingers tugged at the hem of my black leggings, pulling them toward him, achingly slow.

As he lowered his body against me, the searing heat of his skin scorched mine. A groan resonated from the back of his throat as his eyes closed, and his tongue slid over the seam of my lips. My mouth parted, allowing him to enter, and I silently begged him to make up for lost time.

His fingers slid easily along my sensitive skin, finding their way under my tank top before gripping my back against the mattress. With one deft movement, he unsnapped my bra, peppering my skin with tiny kisses. By the time he relieved me of my shirt, bra, and then my panties, his boxer briefs were all that separated us, leaving little to the imagination.

I relaxed my head back, letting my arms fall to the bed, as his mouth rediscovered every inch of me.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispered against my delicate skin.

I could feel every breath and every smile, and I could sense every decision he made to move lower. My fingers tangled in the sheets as I closed my eyes, begging him to take us further, and I sighed with relief when he did.

Chapter Fifteen

I PUSHED OUT THE DOUBLE DOORS of the north building. I was tired and sore, and I wasn’t sure that my final grade would be an A, but I was confident that a percentage point or two was a good trade.

The walk to Bennett Hall took too long, and it wasn’t because of the staggering wind chill. By the time I stepped off the elevator, I was scrambling to get through the door.

Once I stepped through the threshold, I was in Weston’s arms, and his mouth was on mine. His backpack was zipped and sitting by the door, and he had my suitcase open and ready.

“I still have clothes there. Julianne didn’t want me to have to cart things back and forth.”

“Toothpaste?” Weston asked.

“Yes,” I said after thinking for half a second.

“Will you ride with me?”

I smiled. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

He leaned over and slid one arm through his pack. Then, he held his hand out to me. I swiped my wallet off the kitchen counter and glanced back at my apartment. Weston had cleaned while I was taking tests in my classes.

As I locked my door, Weston stood behind me, holding me while he nuzzled my neck. I giggled, and after I could finally concentrate enough to turn the bolt lock, we made our way downstairs to the parking lot.

Shiny, beautiful, and bright red, the vehicle that held all my best memories waited for Weston and me to climb inside. Once I slid into the passenger seat, I was tugged a bit farther until I was sitting next to my boyfriend, my first love, and—if Weston was right when he was just a boy—the man I would marry one day.

We spent the ride home chatting about the Art Institute of Dallas, Weston’s new apartment, his crazy roommates, and his favorite professors. The drive seemed to be too short when the Chevy parked next to the curb of my parents’ home.

Sam and Julianne were outside—having made sure to get regular updates on our time of arrival—with their arms wide open. Julianne was squealing and clapping before nearly tackling me when we met in the middle of the lawn. Sam caught up, and as usual, he eclipsed our bodies with his in a warm bear hug.

“Our girl is home! She’s home, Sam!” Julianne squealed.

“Yes, she is!”

When they released me, they expectantly watched Weston and me.

In answer, Weston slid his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side, and I reached my arms around his middle, interlacing my fingers.

Julianne clasped her hands together, more than just pleased. She pulled us both into a hug.

“Well?” Sam said. “Come in, come in. Julianne’s baked a turkey so big that we can just warm up the leftovers next turkey day.”

My parents led the way, hand in hand, but Weston tugged on my fingers, asking me to stay behind.

He wrapped me in his arms to ward off the cold, his breath puffing out in white wisps. “I wouldn’t let myself hope that I’d be walking into your parents’ house with you in my arms.”

Weston reached down, letting the small silver heart he’d had made for me months ago slide over his palm and fingers until it fell gently back into place.