Breathe Me - C.R. Jane Page 0,33

ache in my chest is a harsh reminder of every other feeling I’ve lived without for so long.

The cab finally gets us to the Eiffel Tower, and suddenly, I'm frozen in my seat, not sure that I can get out. A few minutes tick by, and the driver mutters something in French that sounds a lot like "asshole." I square my shoulders and step out of the car on that note.

The Tower is lit up in front of me like some kind of fucking movie, the one in those rom-coms that Valentina always wanted me to watch when we were growing up.

I walk, looking for her, wondering if she looks the same. Ten years is a long time.

Will she recognize me? Would I recognize her?

It's crowded, I'm sure this part of the city never really goes to sleep.

Suddenly, I see her. She's standing there in a red dress, like she's going to some kind of fancy fucking ball.

She's facing away from me, and I allow myself one small moment to take this in. This moment where I see the love of my life once again.

I've been so fucking furious at her for years. I thought I hated her.

But this feeling I have right now, it feels a lot less like hate, and a lot more like love.

Or maybe obsession really.

Love just doesn't seem strong enough.

She's all I see.

She's all I want to see. Forever and ever.

What have I been doing all these years when she existed somewhere in the world?

I'm single-minded in purpose as I stride towards her, barely noticing when someone hits my shoulder hard moving past me.

She's still facing away from me, a dejected slant to her shoulders, I'm sure because I'm late.

Her scent hits me first, that perfect combination of strawberries and cream that no one else in the world seems to possess.

It's my favorite scent in the world, and it's just another thing that I wonder how I lived without for so long.

I inhale right before I reach out, my hands trembling at the idea of touching her after so long.

My brain momentarily stops thinking when I finally touch her waist, and I find myself spinning her around, and I can't help but move my mouth towards hers.

I let out a small moan when our lips meet. It's like all the shattered pieces of my soul suddenly snap back into place, and in this moment, I'm finally whole. Something I haven't felt since the day she left.

I'd forgotten what a real kiss felt like.

Valentina's kiss is what perfection feels like. Passionate. She kisses with her entire soul. Every kiss is an occasion, a memory, a treasure.

Her lips are so fucking good.

She’s everything.

Valentina

I sigh at the familiar taste of him, arching into his kiss like I'll never get enough. He grips my lower back, dragging me by the curve into his body, forcing me to bend backwards. He growls into my open mouth, devouring me.

The years we've lost just fade away, and there's just me and him.

The spell is broken when a throat clears right behind Logan. My eyes flash open and widen when I see Carter and Quaid both standing there, a mix of agony and lust on their faces at the scene Logan and I are making.

I reluctantly pull away from Logan, who makes a soft sound of disgruntlement at the separation of our lips from one another.

"Carter. Quaid," I say breathlessly. It's a strange thing to feel honestly, as I stand here. How I could be completely wrapped up in Logan, but still want Quaid and Carter desperately, with everything in me.

Carter's lip curls up cruelly. "Should have known that I wouldn't be enough for you, Valentina."

The words come out sharp and jabbing, just as they always did when Carter was hurt. I guess the years haven't changed much.

Logan's turned around now and seen his former best friends. He's stiff as he watches them, hovering near me like they could reach out and steal me away at any second.

Quaid doesn't say anything. He just stands there, his eyes devouring me, not looking away from me for a second.

I've spent the last ten years alone, an afterthought to anyone really. Or at least, that's what it felt like. I'm not sure how to deal with once again being the center of someone's universe.

My dad's words about soulmates once again floats through my head. They never really leave actually.

How is it that of everyone that I've met in my life, only the three of them have