“If it makes you feel any better, Blake just left an hour ago. I think he cleaned us all out of Jack Daniel’s.”
My heart drops. Pierce may as well have poured a bottle down his throat. I didn’t help. “Did he say where he was going?” I ask.
“Charlie called him a cab. Maybe he knows.”
“I need to check on him,” I say, throwing a few bills on the bar. I turn to Reece. “I hate to cut this short.”
She waves me off. “I understand. Go.”
“I’ll get the address from Charlie,” Dana pipes in. She knows some of what went down between Blake and I—how it ended—but I haven’t told her everything.
I can’t stand the thought of Blake alone, especially when I know what he’s been through. Especially when I have no idea what Pierce said before he left earlier or what was going through his head.
“Here’s the address,” she says, handing me a piece of paper. “Good luck.”
After saying a quick goodbye, I grab a cab and read off the address I recognize as Blake’s studio. It’s not far from here, but it feels like forever before we pull into the rundown warehouse district. It’s excruciating—not knowing what I’m going to find when I get there or knowing if he’ll even be there.
When we pull up in front of Blake’s building, light shines through a single window. I pay the driver and step outside, my nerves on end as I walk up the metal stairs. I debate whether I should knock or just walk in; the second option wins only because my patience is worn so thin. I just need to know he’s okay.
The door opens much to my relief, a faint light shining in the room that’s very familiar to me—the one where he cemented himself deeper in my heart. Just placing my hand on the knob brings some of those old feelings back up.
I’m not sure what I expected when I opened the door, but this isn’t it. The protective covering that used to be on the walls is gone, replaced by splatters of paint.
Blake stands against one wall, paint covering his clothes and face. He looks as if he just completed a full twenty-six miles. His eyes lock on mine, and all I read is misery.
Agony.
Grief.
Torment.
There’s a reason he’s a brilliant artist.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, sounding out of breath.
“Dana said you’d been at the bar this afternoon. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
He takes a few steps toward me. I shift my gaze from him to the walls, needing to break the intensity. He’s too much.
“Do you really care, Lila, or are you playing the game right along with him?”
“I’m not playing any games,” I answer, not bothering to address Pierce. His agenda is a little different than mine. “I didn’t know you were coming this morning. I never would have … I never would have done that to you.”
His chest brushes mine, and I close my eyes. My knees tremble. My cheeks flush. I should never have come here, but deep down inside, I wanted to. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t know who to trust.”
“You can trust me,” I say faintly, not bothering to open my eyes.
His breath hits my lips. “And how do I know that?”
I finally open my eyes looking right into his. “You should know by now that I can’t look into your eyes and lie to you. You can trust me. Your secrets are still mine.”
His forearm rests above my head, leaving even less space between us. I smell the whiskey. Some of the wet paint soaks my tank. “Can I show you something?”
“What?” I ask, heart pounding against his.
“This.” His lips crash into mine. At first, I fight it—with little effort, I try to push him back—but my body remembers him and curves into his.
The moon is always there. It changes shape, and sometimes you can’t see it at all, but it’s always there. It’s a lot like love.
It changes.
It fades.
But it’s still there.
When Blake’s lips touch mine, it’s a full moon. No one has ever made me feel the way he does. I can try to convince myself otherwise, but he’s the one that shines brighter than all others—past and present.
He cups my face in his hands, tugging my lower lip between his, then kissing each corner of my mouth the way he used to. His lips press harder into mine. I get the familiar smoky taste of whiskey. He traces the tip of his tongue along my lips, quietly begging for entrance. With no sense of control, I let him in.
He tastes.
The moon beams at me.
His tongue tangles with mine.
And, I want to cry.
This is what he wanted to show me. No love I’ve ever felt is more intense than this. No one else makes me feel the way he does.
He’s the full moon. Everyone else is simply a crescent.
I wrap my arms around his neck, my body melting into his.
He kisses me breathless.
He kisses me to clarity.
He kisses me until all I want to do for the rest of my life is be with him just like this.
My lips tingle as time passes, and it doesn’t even matter that I can’t feel them. He’s imbedded deep down—a place that only he can get to. He slowly pulls away only to brush feather light kisses along my jawline.
I want to hold him close and never let him go.
“Do you see it now?” he whispers against my lips.
I shake my head, and he immediately lowers his eyes. “Look at me.”
He won’t look, and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
“Blake, please look at me.”
He backs away, arms hanging at his side. It takes a few seconds, but he finally glances back up.
Without hesitation, I move closer, grabbing one of his hands between mine. “I didn’t see it, but I felt it.” Lifting his hand to my chest, I let him feel how quickly my heart beats. “I felt it right here.”
I can’t lie to him. I can’t lie to myself.
Tears fill his eyes before he wraps me tightly in his arms, spreading kisses along my neck. “Does that mean I have a chance?” he asks, hesitantly.
“I don’t know, Blake. So much has happened between us—so many things I can’t just forget.”
He pulls away, cradling my cheeks in his hands. “Since I left, has there ever been a day you didn’t think of me?”
A single tear slips from my eye. “Not a single hour has gone by that I didn’t think of you.”
“Even when you’re with him?”
“Even then,” I answer honestly. Blake has been in the back of my mind since he left. I compare the things Pierce does to the way Blake did them, but when I’m with Blake, my only thought of Pierce is the guilt I feel for being with Blake. The obvious answer to where my heart lies shows in my thoughts.
His thumbs caress my cheekbones. “I can’t stand to watch you with him. When we’re all in the same room … when I watch the way he looks at you or how he touches you. I can’t do it knowing that you were mine … knowing what it feels like to be him. My fingers ache to feel your skin. My heart bleeds slowly every second you’re not with me, and I don’t know how much more I can take before there’s nothing left of me. I miss you so fucking much that there aren’t enough words to even say it.”
“What are you saying?” I cry.
“I’m saying that I made the biggest fucking mistake of my life letting you go, and I want you back. I’d do anything you ask me to, Lila. Anything. But, if I can’t have you, I need to move on … out of this city. The constant reminders of us are killing me.”
The guy who always seemed so sure of himself doesn’t seem so sure anymore.
“Make a choice,” he begs. “And when you do, listen to your heart. That’s how I found my way back to you.”
Thoughts flash through my head like a fireworks display … some louder than others … some leaving more of an impact. My love for Blake is different than what I feel for Pierce, and there’s only one I can’t live without. Deep down, I’ve known it all along.
“You have to promise me something.”
“Anything,” he murmurs, kissing my lips.
It’s hard to think when he’s doing that. “Actually there are two things.”