When You Were Mine (Stone Lake 2)

And it’s delicious.

I deepen the kiss, grateful as hell that for once that I’m not waking up, that Luna is not fading away with the last remnants of sleep. If this is what drinking does for you, I’ll stay fucking drunk for the rest of my life.

I deepen the kiss. I can feel her try and pull away, and I increase the strength of my hold, unwilling to let her slip away this time.

She stiffens against me, which is new. Always before she gives in so sweetly my balls ache. Then again, our kiss has never lasted this long—been this sweet. I plunder her mouth, memorizing everything about her in case this is the last time—in case the dream never happens again. Her nails bite into my skin, the sensation so real I can literally feel it. I growl in her mouth, hungrily nipping at her lips.

Pain lances through my balls and I jerk, letting Luna go as my hands go to my groin. Then, a hand slaps hard against the side of my face, dragging me out of my drunken haze.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Luna yells. Her hair is mussed, her lips swollen, her face flushed, and she’s mad as hell but looking sexy.

I’m in pain, piecing together that this Luna is real and that she not only slapped me that she apparently kneed me in the balls. She’s gorgeous and even in pain, I’ve decided that kissing her was fucking worth it.

“Probably the first smart thing I’ve done in over thirteen years,” I grumble. I sit up in bed, the world shifting around me, as a wave of dizziness hits me. I hold my head down between my legs to try and stave it off. I’d hate to ruin a damn good kiss with up-chucking on her fancy shoes. I focus on her shoes. High heels, a soft pink in color, they are open-toed, and her toes peek out with nails adorned in a similar color. Memories flash through my mind of the conversations we had when we were younger while she painted her nails. Fuck, I’m not ashamed to admit, sometimes I clumsily painted them for her.

How in the hell did two people who loved each other so much end up here?

“Are you even listening to me, Gavin?”

I hadn’t been. There’s no point in lying to her.

“What’d you say?” I ask, dragging my gaze back to her face.

“You had no right to kiss me. Don’t let that happen anymore. I’m not standing in for whatever woman you had last night. We’re not going there. I have a good man in my life right now, and I am not letting you mess it up for me,” she huffs.

Looking at her I rub my hand against my chest, my heart hurting.

What would my life had been like if I hadn’t walked away from her?

God, what would be different now, if I had stayed?

Luna

“Where am I dropping you off?” I ask, my voice tight.

It took me over an hour to get Gavin out of that damn room. An hour that I didn’t want to be there and an hour where I should have just walked away and didn’t.

I’m disappointed in myself.

I’m also mad. I’m mad at him for kissing me. I’m mad at myself for giving in—even if just for a minute. I’m mad I even came to get him. The list of things I’m upset about is so long that there’s no way to pinpoint each individual one.

“My rental is at the bar,” he says, looking out the side window. His scruff is overly long, and he keeps rubbing his hand against it. He was always clean shaven before, this new look on him is different, but it definitely looks good.

Not that I should be noticing that.

I shouldn’t be noticing anything about Gavin Lodge. I can’t believe I gave into his kiss. I’m disgusted with myself, and I feel guilty. I should probably tell Ben what happened. Shouldn’t I? I shut it down, so it’s not like anything truly happened. Other than my mind being thrown in complete chaos, I mean.

“If I drop you off at the bar are you going to get drunk again?” I mutter snidely. I hit my turn signal to indicate what direction I’m going and then when the road is clear, I turn onto the main road.

“I’m not exactly sober now,” he says quietly.

“I gathered that when you kissed me.”

“I don’t have to be drunk to want to kiss you, Luna. Don’t mistake the truth in that.”

“You shouldn’t kiss me, Gavin. Whether you’re drunk or not.”

“Maybe I should have kissed you more.”

“What did you just say?”

“Never mind, Luna. Just take me to my car.”

“Are you mentally unstable? Deranged? Of course you shouldn’t kiss me more. Jesus, Gavin, what has gotten into you?” I snap, slapping my hand against my steering wheel. “And you shouldn’t be drinking. You’re supposed to be looking for a killer, not partying.”