Power Play - Brittney Mulliner Page 0,60

lost this privilege forever. I ran my hand through her dark hair and held her head against my chest, willing the universe to just pause for a little while. I needed to soak this in.

“Will you stay a little while?” I wasn’t ready for this night to be over.

She pulled back enough to meet my eyes. “Okay.”

I led her to my couch and patted the spot next to me. Once she sat, I pulled her in again so she was leaning against my chest. As much as I wanted to look at her, I needed to hold her more. I craved the reassurance that she was really here. That I wasn’t in one of my dreams of what life could have been.

“I know you don’t want to forget the past, but is it okay if we start from this point?”

She pushed her fingers through mine and flipped our hands so she was staring down at mine. “What do you mean?”

“I want to know about your college experience, but I don’t want us to dwell on our time apart.”

“You don’t want to know about any relationships?” she guessed.

“Not really. Not unless you want to tell me.”

I felt more than I heard her chuckle. “There’s not much to tell, Jason. I told you I didn’t date much. I was too focused on school.”

I let out a sigh. “Me neither. There were a few casual flings but nothing serious.”

“Okay.” She traced my fingers with one of hers, and my heart rate picked up. “I never thought we’d be here again, but I think some part of my heart or brain was comparing every other guy to you. They never measured up.”

That was a boost I didn’t know I needed. It was also reassurance that I wasn’t alone in this. “I was the same way. I never felt like I could completely be myself. I had to protect myself because I never trusted anyone the way I needed to.”

“Why not?” She shifted and rested her head in the space where my chest met my arm. I savored the feeling of having her this close. It had been so, so long since I held her.

“I think it was because I knew that people could leave. That I could love someone with my entire being and it might not be enough, so I kept everyone at a distance. I never fully opened up to anyone, not the way I did with you.”

“I did the same thing, but it was because I knew no one would be able to live up to you and what we had. My family tried to convince me I had romanticized things and only remembered the good, but that wasn’t it. I never met anyone I could be myself with. I felt like I had to measure up to something. That I had to be what they expected, but it was never like that with you. I was too young to even think like that so I never tried. I was just me, and you loved me.”

That was it. She somehow put into logical words what I felt anytime I tried to date. My parents gave me the same rose-colored-glasses speech. Not because they didn’t love her, but because they worried that I had the bar set impossibly high over the memory of Taylor. That I put her and our relationship on an untouchable pedestal. Maybe I had, but was that so wrong? To want relationships to live up to what I once had? To be better? So far nothing had come close.

“I think I loved you so much because of the way you loved me. How you rooted for me, supported me, and pushed me. You made me a better person.” I ran my free hand down her smooth arm. “I never held back with you. I knew I could be open and you would accept me.”

She twisted enough so she could lock eyes with me. “I’m not sure why we needed the time apart. Maybe we needed to learn to fully appreciate each other.” She tightened her grip on my hand. “But it was worth it. All of it. The tears and heartache and wondering. I would go through it all again if it meant finding you in the end.”

I bent forward and kissed her forehead. “I’m not sure why either. And I don’t know how we found each other. It doesn’t make sense. There are too many pieces that had to come together perfectly.” I shook my head. “It’s