When I left, I never planned on looking back.
Walking away from the only boy I’d ever loved,
I thought I was making the right decision.
I was wrong.
Now I’m back, and the past is too much.
Tate Corbin is no longer the sweet boy next door,
But rather a man who hates me.
When she left, she took a piece of me.
A piece that had always belonged to her, and I knew—
I knew I’d never get over losing her, never get through the pain alone.
But I moved on—never thought I’d care again,
I was wrong.
Now, Callie Winters is back
And I can’t let go, I can’t step away.
Now only one question remains:
Will our love be rekindled? Or will it go down in flames?
He moves around the car, showing me all the things he’s done, and telling me about how he found each part, and I follow close enough to breathe in the scent of his cologne. It doesn’t take me long to realize he still uses the same cologne brand I bought him for his eighteenth birthday. I’m so lost in thought, I don’t notice when he stops abruptly, causing me to bump into his back.
“Sorry,” I mumble, as he turns around and grabs my wrists to steady me. My heart beats staccato against my chest when his thumb brushes across my pulse point and I feel like I might combust into fragments right here.
He’s standing close. Too close. Our bodies are just inches apart, and I wonder if we still would fit together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the way we used to when we’d curl into each other on the couch while watching a movie. I can see the steady rise and fall of his chest as I stare straight ahead at his body, not wanting to risk looking him in the eyes because I’m worried about what I’ll say if I do. That I’ll admit I regret not choosing him that one day. That I’ve missed him every day since. That I never stopped loving him. I can feel the warmth of his breath skim the top of my head, and when his Adam’s apple bobs in this throat, I know he’s as affected by me as I am by him.
But he’s not mine to have. Not anymore. He belongs to someone else now. Clearing my throat, I try to focus my thoughts on finding a neutral topic, but his proximity to me is making it impossible for me to think. I take a step back, and for a second I think I see disappointment flash across his face, but when I look again, it’s gone.
He turns away from me and heads to the other side of the barn, stretching his arm to grab a key hidden inside a broken birdhouse on a shelf. Letting it dangle from his index finger, he holds it up and smirks at me. “Whaddya say? Want to take her out for her first spin?”
C.J. McKella is a romance writer living beneath the hot Arizona sun with her husband and their cat, Kaylie. She devotes her days to working, and her nights to writing; allowing the characters in her head to come to life. When not working or writing, she can be found reading, binge-watching Netflix, or playing video games. A romantic at heart, she has a love for stories, and all things ending in happily ever after.