A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 57: CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

Ashley

It was official.

I had sex with my ex.

The same ex I had sworn to avoid with every fiber of my being. The man I had promised myself I’d never touch again, never let back in.

And the worst part?

I had enjoyed it.

Every single second.

Two days had passed, and I still couldn’t escape it. The feel of his hands branding my skin, the heat of his mouth tracing every inch of me, the way he growled my name like it belonged to him.

It was inescapable.

I had scrubbed my skin raw in the shower, trying to wash off the remnants of him, but it hadn’t worked. No matter how hard I tried, I could still feel him on me. In me. I could still hear his voice, deep and rough with need.

I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath, but it did nothing to quiet the memories flooding my brain.

The way he had looked at me afterward—like he thought last night had changed everything.

Like I wouldn’t walk away.

“Please, don’t leave, Freckles.”

His voice had cracked on the words, raw and vulnerable in a way I wasn’t used to hearing from Kyle. But I had forced myself to ignore the way my heart clenched, the way my resolve wavered, because I knew what would happen if I gave in.

I had lived it.

Loving Kyle was never the issue.

It was surviving him that had nearly destroyed me.

I’d spent years fighting for him, gasping for air while he reached for something else—something bigger, something more important than us. And I had drowned for it.

I would not do it again.

Even if my heart still ached for him.

Even if my body still craved him.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself out of bed. The cold air wrapped around me, but I welcomed it. Anything to push the lingering heat of him from my skin.

Shower. Coffee. Clothes.

I moved on autopilot, but no matter what I did, my mind refused to obey.

I couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep letting the past control me.

One step at a time. One foot in front of the other.

My store is almost done,I have a business to keep. I have a life to live.

And Kyle Blackwood was no longer a part of it.

That was my resolve. That was my truth.

I swore on it.

Until I got to my nearly finished store and saw him standing there.

Kyle.

Waiting.

A cold shock of awareness jolted through me, freezing my steps mid-stride. My breath caught in my throat.

He stood by the entrance, tall and immovable, his hands tucked into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. Like he belonged there. But it was his eyes—those stormy gray depths—that held me captive. Sharp. Intense. Unwavering.

I clenched my fists and forced myself forward, even as every instinct screamed at me to turn around and walk away.

I stopped a few feet in front of him, my pulse a wild, erratic thing.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.

Kyle didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

A statement, not a question.

Oh yeah. Maybe I had.

He had sent multiple texts—We need to talk. Call me. Just five minutes, Freckles—but I had ignored every single one. Deleted them without responding. Pretended they didn’t exist.

Because acknowledging them meant acknowledging him.

I scoffed, lifting my chin. “I’ve been living my life. You should try it sometime.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Is that what you call it? Running away?”

Heat flared beneath my skin, but I forced my expression to remain blank. “I have things to do, Kyle. I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

"This."

His lips curled into something too bitter to be a smile. “That’s what we are now? This?”

I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat and clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms.

“What do you want?” I bit out.

Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, the air pulsing with tension like a live wire.

Then Kyle took a step forward.

And another.

Erasing what little space remained between us.

I held my ground, refusing to back away even as his presence wrapped around me like a storm ready to break.

“I want to talk,” he said, his voice low, measured.

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head. “We already did.”

“Without you running.”

His words struck deep, slicing past my defenses like a blade.

“Without you pretending none of it mattered.”

My stomach clenched. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

A lie.

One we both saw straight through.

I needed to leave.

Now.

Staying wouldn’t help. Staying might crack the walls I had spent the past two days reinforcing.

Staying might—God help me—make me do something reckless.

Kyle exhaled slowly, his gaze searing into mine.

“Tell me you don’t feel it.” His voice was rough, edged with something dangerously close to desperation. “Tell me that night meant nothing, and I’ll walk away.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Because I couldn’t say it.

I couldn’t.

The truth clawed at my throat, but I refused to give it life.

Kyle took another step closer, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne—smoky, expensive, familiar—wrapped around me, pulling me under.

My resolve wavered.

For one fleeting second, I let myself imagine it. What if?

Then reality came crashing back in, sharp and unforgiving.

I forced a hollow laugh and crossed my arms over my chest, a flimsy barrier against the pull of him.

“Fine,” I said, my voice brittle. “Let’s say the night did mean something.”

Kyle stilled.

“What then?” I continued, my words cutting like glass. “Do we date? Have a fling? Become sex buddies?” I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “Or do we get married and cheat when business gets tough?”

The moment the words left my mouth, the air between us changed.

Something dark flickered across Kyle’s face, a shadow of guilt, of pain—gone in an instant, but I had seen it. Felt it.

His jaw tightened.

“I made a mistake, Ashley,” he said, voice low, controlled. But beneath it, something frayed at the edges. “You think I don’t live with that every day? You think I don’t regret—”

“Regret isn’t enough,” I cut in, my voice sharper than before. My throat burned, but I swallowed past it. “You don’t get to stand here and rewrite the past just because you suddenly decided I mattered.”

Kyle’s nostrils flared. “You always mattered.”

My breath hitched.

For a split second, something inside me wavered.

But I couldn’t let myself believe him. Not again.

I shook my head, retreating a step. “I can’t do this.”

His eyes darkened, jaw clenching like he was gearing up to argue.

I braced myself for another round of words, for more I’m sorrys and I regret it and you mattered, Freckles.

But then—he stopped.

And did something I never expected.

Kyle moved.

Fast.

One second, he was standing there, burning me alive with his gaze.

The next—he was on me.

His hands grasped my face, firm but desperate, his body closing the space between us in a single stride. And before I could think, before I could breathe—

His mouth crashed against mine.

A gasp tore from my throat, but it was swallowed by the heat of him—his lips pressing, molding, claiming.

I froze.

For one impossible second, my world tilted.

Then—I shattered.