I can’t help but grin, knowing that whatever I did—whateverwedid—impacts him this way.
“When you walked into the gym that first time, Carlie I swear, my heart stopped. I think, maybe, a part of me knew,” he whispers. “I was just too afraid to believe it.”
I shake my head. “How could you possibly know? I had my hair up and I was a basket case. I was nothing like?—”
I stop short, realizing I almost saidI was nothing like Zoey.
Again, he chuckles under his breath. “You definitely weren’t what I was expecting—but I kept finding myself searching…” he reaches out, brushing my hair over my shoulder and pulling back the neck of my shirt,“for this.”
I inhale a sharp breath as he presses a kiss to my clavicle.
He’d been searching for my birthmark in the same way I was looking for his tattoo.
Part of me wants to shy away from his touch, but if there’s one person I want to see all of me, it’s him.
“I’ve always hated my birthmark. I try to keep it hidden as much as possible,” I confess, watching him as he traces it.
He drops my shirt, staring deeply into my eyes. Questions are lingering in his but instead of putting words to any of them, he leans forward, brushing his lips to mine.
The kiss is slow, and sensual, and whisks all of my thoughts away with the summer breeze.
When he finally pulls back, I’m dizzy and breathless and could totally be talked into round three with the right prompting.
“Don’t ever hide from me. Not anymore,” he whispers, his voice husky. “Got it?”
Silently, I nod, still feeling the lingering touch of his lips.
The intensity in his eyes anchors me to the moment—to the reality of how deeply we’re connected.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe this is fate.
Because there’s a vulnerability in his gaze—a raw honesty that makes everything else seem inconsequential.
I amsolucky.
Lucky Adam’s the type of man who can forgive me for keeping the truth from him.
Lucky to be sitting here with him now.
Lucky to have found him at all.
Adam gently tugs a strand of my hair, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. “Carlie, since that night at Nocté, there’s been this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like we’ve been dancing around our past, afraid to step on each other’s toes.”
I let out a small laugh, despite the seriousness of his words. “More like I’ve been clumsily steppingonyour toes.”
He shakes his head, a smile touching his lips. “No, you’ve been finding your rhythm. And I’ve been amazed watching you.”
The warmth in his words washes over me, filling me with a sense of belonging and purpose. He and I share a hurtful truth—we’ve both had exes break our hearts by sleeping with other people. It’s how we were invited to Nocté in the first place. If anyone knows the kind of pain that causes, it’s him.
I take a deep breath, hoping he understands what I need to tell him. “Adam, after being cheated on, I never thought I’d find my groove again. My ex—his words and actions cut deep and I’ve been hiding behind my fears, letting them dictate my steps for a long time.”
“Carlie,” Adam begins, but I press a finger to his lips.
“Let me finish,” I whisper. When he nods, I continue, “But then … there was you. That night at Nocté, you made me feel like the sexiest woman on the planet.”
“That’s because you are?—”