A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 21: CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

KYLE

Ashley closed her eyes again, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

“Have you taken anything?” I asked, my hand hovering near her face, unsure whether to touch her again.

She gave the slightest nod. “Yeah… I took Sumatriptan.” Her words were slurred, her breath shallow.

Good. At least she’s taken something. But the tension in my chest didn’t ease.

I stood abruptly, moving around the room with restless energy, my pulse thudding like a warning. I grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom, ran it under cold water, then wrung it out until it was just damp enough. My hands trembled slightly as I carried it back to her.

Ashley hadn’t moved. She was still curled into herself, her arms clutching the blanket like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

I knelt beside the bed, my knees pressing into the plush carpet, and gently placed the cool cloth on her forehead. Her skin was warm—too warm—and the contact made her tense beneath my touch.

“It’s okay,” I murmured softly, my fingers brushing over her temple in slow, deliberate circles. “Just breathe, Ash.”

Her muscles remained rigid for a beat longer, then slowly, gradually, she eased up, her body relaxing under the soothing rhythm of my fingertips.

“That’s it,” I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. “Deep breaths.”

Her chest rose and fell, the shaky pattern evening out as I continued to massage her temples, my thumbs tracing slow, comforting strokes along the edges of her forehead.

“How do you feel?” I asked quietly.

“Better,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut like the simple act of keeping them open required too much energy.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound the faint rustle of fabric as I adjusted the cloth and the steady rhythm of her breathing. My fingers continued their gentle path, tracing the faint lines of tension until they softened beneath my touch.

Her skin was still warm and impossibly soft, the kind of softness that stirred memories I had no business revisiting. But I couldn’t stop myself from stealing a glance at her face.

Her eyes remained closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks. I let my gaze linger—longer than I should have—tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone, the gentle slope of her nose, the lush fullness of her bottom lip. Her brow, once furrowed with pain, had smoothed out, the tension replaced by something peaceful.

The knot in my chest loosened, but it didn’t disappear.

It was the first time I’d seen her unguarded since… since that night. The night I destroyed everything between us…

I shifted my attention back to the task at hand and tried to reign in my wandering thoughts. “Feel better?” The words came out strangely husky.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed softly, her drowsy voice tugging at something deep inside me.

I swallowed hard, my gaze drifting back to her face—and that’s when I realized she was staring at me.

Her eyes, hazy with exhaustion, locked onto mine. Her lips parted slightly, her breath catching just like mine did.

The air shifted, charged with something electric, something hot and undeniable.

Her chest rose and fell in uneven rhythms, each shaky inhale syncing with the erratic pounding of my heart. I could feel her breath, warm and shallow, ghosting beneath my fingertips—the heat of her skin seeping into my palms like it was branding me, leaving an imprint I couldn’t shake.

The air, once heavy with quiet concern, shifted—charged with something electric, something sharp. It danced over my skin, prickling like static, stretching tight over my bones as my heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Ashley’s breathing grew uneven again, though not from pain this time. I could feel it in the space between us—the tension coiling tighter with every second.

Then she did it.

She licked her lips.

Just a flick of her tongue, quick and unconscious. But it hit me like a punch to the gut.

And God himself couldn’t have stopped the flood of X-rated images crashing through my brain.

Those lips—full, soft, and pink—wrapped around the head of my cock, that delicate tongue tracing slow, sinful lines along my length while her hazel eyes, wide and dark with need, stared up at me…

Fuck.

My hands stilled, fingers curling into loose fists against the urge to move, to touch more than I should. There was no pretending now. I wasn’t focused on the massage anymore—not when every nerve in my body was screaming, every thought tangled with images I had no business entertaining.

The only thing I could focus on was the ache in my chest—and the one straining against my zipper.

Get it together.

She was in pain. Vulnerable. And here I was, hard as a goddamn rock, proving once again that the body and mind often worked at odds.

But when I looked at her again…

Ashley didn’t look like she was in pain anymore.

She was staring at me, her hazel eyes heavy-lidded, dark, and warm. There was..

Don’t go there, Kyle.

I forced myself to tear my gaze away, clearing my throat to break the tension.

“You should be good for now,” I muttered, my voice rough with something I didn’t want to name.

I stood abruptly, angling my body toward the bathroom before she could catch even a glimpse of the severely ill-timed situation in my pants. My steps felt too loud, my pulse louder still, echoing in the hollow space of my chest.

Inside the bathroom, I gripped the edges of the sink, splashing cold water on my face, hoping it would wash away the heat burning under my skin. It didn’t.

By the time I stepped back out, Ashley was fast asleep.

Peaceful

Unaffected

Relief and disappointment warred within me, clawing at opposite ends of my chest.

I grabbed an extra duvet from the closet, spreading it out on the floor beside her bed. The hardwood was cold against my back as I lay down, staring at the ceiling, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing.

But sleep didn’t come.

My mind wouldn’t stop racing—looping through memories, through regrets, through every stupid decision that led us here. I’d failed her once. Hurt her in ways I couldn’t undo, no matter how much I wished I could. But if there was one thing I knew with absolute certainty—it was that I couldn’t move on from her.

I didn’t want to.

And I’d win her back, even if it killed me.

A soft whimper broke through the quiet, snapping me from my thoughts. I shot up, my gaze darting to the bed. Ashley stirred, her face pinched with discomfort, a faint crease between her brows.

Without thinking, I was on my feet.

I hesitated for half a second, then grabbed the duvet and slid in beside her. The warmth of her body seeped into me instantly, an invisible tether pulling me closer than I had any right to be.

After all, sleeping next to my ex-wife couldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done.

Not by a long shot.