Greek (Palm South University)

“That’s illegal.”

I snort. “Like that ever stops anyone.”

Kade chuckles, settling more in-between my thighs, and when he nestles into my warmth, I feel him start growing hard again.

“Insatiable,” I whisper against his lips as he kisses me.

“Only when it comes to you.” He nibbles my lip before pushing up to balance on his elbows again. His eyes search mine, his smile warm and just… happy. So, so happy. “I don’t have a ten-year plan for you, Jess. Or a five-year one or hell, even one for the next three-hundred-and-sixty-five days. But I can tell you this. One day, I will get on my knee, and I will ask you to spend your life with me — officially, because to be clear, you’ve already agreed to that whether you know it or not.”

I laugh, but it’s against the tears building at his words.

“And one day, I’ll cry like a fucking baby when you walk down the aisle to me. And one day, I’ll hold your hand when you give birth to the first of our twelve babies.”

“Twelve?!” I laugh. “And what if I don’t want any of those things? What if I said I never want to get married or have kids?”

Kade shrugs. “Then I would say whatever you want in this life, wherever it may take you — count me in. Traveling the world, joining the circus, partying until we’re too old to take drugs,” he says as I laugh. “Whatever you choose — I’m your co-pilot.” He swallows. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

I curl my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips. “What if I want you longer than you want me?”

“Impossible.”

“What if I drive you insane?”

“Oh, you absolutely will,” he says, and I pinch his side. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I bite my lip when he rolls his hips against me, doing his best to distract me from this conversation — and it’s working.

“So, no matter what comes next, it’s me and you.”

“Me and you,” he echoes, kissing me deeply.

“I love the sound of that,” I whisper, wrapping my ankles around his hips.

“And I love you.”

With that promise, he captures my mouth with his, effectively silencing the conversation as he rolls against me once more.

And finally — finally — every jagged little piece of me falls into place.

I SHOULD BE GETTING ready for my last semi-formal.

I should be laughing with Skyler as she does my hair and I help her pick out the perfect accessories to go with the dynamite black dress she bought a few weeks ago for the occasion.

I should be taking Tera under my wing, showing her the ropes, passing the torch to her as Skyler and I leave and she starts the new line of our family.

Instead, I’m on a flight to Denver, my tail tucked firmly between my legs and what’s left of my bleeding heart on my sleeve.

It’s all I have to offer Adam. No apology will be enough. No amount of admitted regret can take back what I’ve done. Nothing I ever say or do will be able to atone for how I betrayed him in the most fundamental and hurtful way there is to betray someone you love.

In my heart, in the very pit of my gut, I know I’m walking into a losing battle. Like a soldier on the front line against an impossible force, I know I won’t walk out a survivor. But I can’t let him go without a fight. I can’t let go of him without knowing I did everything I could to hold on.

A soft, quiet voice whispers in my ear that Adam loves me, that we can make it through anything, that it will all be okay — but I don’t see how it ever could. Adam hasn’t spoken to me even once in the three long weeks since I confessed what happened in Mexico.

I wouldn’t speak to me, either.

For all I know, he’s written me out of his life forever. For all I know, he’s shacking up with any girl who looks his way and trying to fuck me out of his system. For all I know, he’s moved past the grieving stage and right on to the fuck her stage where he firmly believes everything between us was a lie.

I cover my mouth against the bile burning my throat at the thought, closing my eyes and willing myself to calm down as the captain announces we’re descending into Denver.

I was supposed to be on this flight three weeks ago, flying in to spend a long holiday weekend with the man I love.

Instead, he went to try to secure our future.

And I put my mouth on another man.

If I hadn’t already cried out every bit of moisture left in my body, I know I’d be sobbing once again. None of the girls have been successful at pulling me out of my depression — no matter how they tried. It’s taken all my energy just to drag myself to class and pass my last finals. I barely passed them, my long run with all A’s slipping from my fingers. I’ll still graduate just fine, and I’m already set for Johns Hopkins, but it doesn’t change the fact that not only did I fail Adam, but I’ve failed myself, too.