Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

She was short, but wearing black high heels, a black skirt, and a white blouse. Dressed up, but somehow, she still appeared a little disheveled.

Like maybe she was wearing an extra layer of anxiety.

Too thin and too frail and too vulnerable.

A spike of energy pulsed at my veins, and a goddamned stone ridged itself in my throat.

I tried to swallow it down. Exactly like I was trying to do with the moment’s idiocy. There was no chance . . . no way—

She shifted to the side, and her profile came into view, and my heart that was beating double time completely stalled out, faltering at the sight in front of me.

My skin went clammy at the same second I was belted with a punch of lust.

Overwhelming.

The same fucking way it’d always been.

And there I was, out of control as I raced down that freeway, a collision coming into a quick, sharp view.

Izzy Lane was standing three feet away.

The girl had been a hazard for me. I’d never once been able to look at her without getting greedy. Wanting to take it all.

The most striking, unforgettable girl a man could ever hope or dread to stumble upon.

Sexy as fuck.

The kind of sexy that had gotten under my skin and wedged itself deep. Kind that had kept me awake at night, dreaming of things I couldn’t have.

I’d learned that the hard way.

Still, I just stood there gaping while every cell in my body screamed, stretching that way, like it was remembering its home.

No doubt feeling the weight of my stare, she glanced my way.

That was all it took for time and space to freeze.

All except for the widening of those hazel eyes, mostly brown except for the tiny rim of green at the edges, this smoky topaz that held the power to suck me right into oblivion.

She had always reminded me of some sort of wild fairy. A piece of a fantasy while she’d been creating her own. Her mind so big and vast that she’d opened mine.

Waif-like with her high cheeks, angled chin, and pale skin, that starkness getting confused with the pinked flesh of her plump, bowed lips.

She was the kind of beauty that you couldn’t look away from. The kind that you got stuck on, wondering if you stared long enough, you could figure out if it was real.

She stumbled, reaching out to catch herself on the counter, like she was two seconds from being knocked to her ass.

I was already there.

Floored and somehow still standing.

What the hell was she doing here?

Regret and greed bubbled in my blood, and everything only got fuzzier when I inhaled. Swore, I could taste her on my tongue when I sucked down the gush of surprise that tore from her lungs and became one with the air.

Attraction and hate, all wrapped up in a bough of yellow jasmine.

Sweet and intoxicating.

“Maxon.” My name wheezed from her mouth, like it was pulling free before she gave it permission to.

I blinked hard, hoping to hell it might break me out of the stupor I’d fallen under. But the soft timber of her voice only made it worse, clouding everything.

That sultry sound kicked me straight back to a time I’d done my best to forget.

Maxon.

No one had called me that in years. Thirteen years.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, still wondering if I was hallucinating. “Izzy?”

When I said her name, it snapped her out of the trance, and that chin trembled, a broken smile pulling to her mouth.

I was pretty sure if I could read it, it was saying regret.

“Hi.” She was wincing a little, on edge, and she turned back to watch the cashier ring her things.

Like that was it.

But what did I expect?

I roughed an agitated hand over my face, mind racing with what to do, while my body was taking another step forward, drawn, completely at a loss to stop myself.

“You’re back?” My voice was rough with the question. A loaded one.

Was kind of surprised she’d never come back once in all this time. Had expected for her to. Even prepared myself for it.

But hell, I was a fool because there wasn’t a thing in the world I could have done to prepare myself for this.

She slowly turned back my way.

I got blasted with a shockwave of heat that hit the air, the intensity of it so fierce it had me sucking in a staggered breath.

Two of us magnets.

The only sound was her items beeping and the roar of blood pounding through my veins, hammering so hard through my body I was wondering if she could see it jerking my limbs.

“Not sure how long, but for now,” she quietly admitted.

Sadness had chased off the surprise, the girl standing there looking like the sight of me might make her cry, those big eyes watery and lips doing this trembling, distracting thing.