A SECOND CHANCE AT FOREVER Chapter 94: CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR

KYLE

The drive to Ashley’s place passed in a blur.

I barely remembered the turns, the red lights, the city buzzing around me. My hands gripped the wheel like a lifeline, white-knuckled and tense, as if letting go would mean losing everything all over again.

When I pulled up outside her apartment, the knot in my chest cinched tighter still. I knocked softly, and almost immediately, the door swung open

The sight of her made everything else blur—until my eyes caught the puffiness around hers.

Something inside me stopped.

She was dressed in a loose off-shoulder tee and biker shorts, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. Comfortable. Bare. But it was the eyes that gave her away. It was red rimmed as if she had been crying.

“What the fuck—where you crying?” I blurted as she stepped aside, frowning in genuine concern.

Ashley’s face hardened for a moment. Ashley had always been strong and unyielding, the one who never let the smallest setbacks bring her to tears, not even in high school. If she was crying now,  then whatever happened was huge.

She forced a smile that looked more like a mask. “No, nothing’s—” she began, then hesitated.

“Fuck no. That’s bullshit. Tell me,” I demanded, stepping forward, my voice low and rough with worry.

After a long pause, she let out a soft, almost silly laugh. “Alright, alright… you caught me. I was… upset because my favorite coffee shop messed up my order today.” Her tone was half-mocking, half-distracted, as if that explanation might somehow cover the truth.

I frowned, my concern deepening. “That’s your excuse? For crying?” I pressed, not convinced.

Ashley’s eyes darted away, and she let out a shaky chuckle. “Maybe it sounds stupid, but you know how much I love my coffee. When they got it so wrong—I mean, my caramel macchiato was supposed to be my little daily delight—it just… broke something inside me.”

I studied her, the mask of indifference cracking just enough for me to see the truth underneath. “Ash, don’t bullshit me,” I said quietly. “I know you. You’re not the type to cry over a latte mix-up.”

“Don’t turn this into a detective job, Kyle,” she finally snapped, half-apologetic and half-mocking. “I sent you that text because I wanted you to come over and, you know… have sex. Not to interrogate me about my feelings.”

I felt a surge of conflicting emotions—a mix of relief and anger, of desire and hurt.“If I wanted tears, they’d be the kind I rip from you while your legs are trembling and my name’s the only thing you remember how to say. Anything else—sad, broken, soaked in someone else’s pain—doesn’t turn me on”

She rolled her eyes and walked past me, but I followed.

“I’m serious. What’s wrong?”

She sighed and rubbed her arm like she was trying to physically brush off the question. “You came here for sex, Kyle. Not to play detective.”

“I came here because you texted me. Because I needed to see you. And now you look like someone cracked you open, and you think I’m just supposed to fuck you and go home?”

She turned, her expression shuttered. “Yes.”

That one word shut me up.

Her voice was calm, steady. “That was the deal. You don’t ask questions, and I don’t ask you to stay. We fuck, and you leave. That’s how this works.”

“Ashley—”

She shook her head. “Don’t, Kyle. Don’t make it more than it is. I needed a distraction. That’s all. So unless you changed your mind, the bedroom’s that way.”

Her words barely registered as I followed her down the hall, the weight of the unspoken things between us pressing on my chest. Each step closer to her made something inside me tighten—this wasn’t just a distraction. This was the only way I knew to keep her close, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind me, and I didn’t give her a chance to breathe. I crossed the room in an instant, closing the distance between us, pinning her back against the cold wall, my body flush against hers. My hands cupped her face, forcing her to look at me—really look at me.

Judging by the tight, unyielding lines of her neck and shoulders, it was clear something was wrong

. She wasn’t just tired—there was something deeper eating at her, something that made her more distant than I’d ever seen her before. She needed a physical release as much as I did, but I couldn’t shake the thought of how exhausted she looked, or the way her eyes seemed haunted, as though they were carrying a weight too heavy to shake off.

“Ashley… What—?” The question burned in my chest, desperate to be spoken, but I cut myself short, the words dying before they could escape. She didn’t want to talk. Not now. I could see it in the way she held herself, the way she wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. 

Instead, I swallowed my need to know, my curiosity, and I let my instinct take over. Without another word, I pressed my lips to hers. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t the slow, familiar kiss we shared. No, this kiss was desperate—rough and raw, as if we were both trying to escape the weight of everything pressing on us. The pressure of the moment, the tension between us, was too much to ignore.

I cupped her face with both hands, feeling the heat of her skin beneath my fingers as I traced my tongue over the seam of her lips, coaxing them open. She didn’t hesitate. She let me in, and the taste of her—God, it was intoxicating—like heat, spice, and sweetness all blended together, setting my senses on fire.

Her lips parted further, and I deepened the kiss, wanting to erase the distance that had grown between us, even if only for a moment. My hands moved to her body, roaming over the familiar curve of her back, pulling her closer, pressing her against me like I needed to anchor myself to her, like if I didn’t, I might lose her all over again.Her lips parted slightly, her breath a whisper against mine. “Think you can make me forget about what happened?” she murmured, her voice laced with something close to desperation.

Without responding, I curled my arm around her, pulling her closer, and carried her effortlessly to the bed. I didn’t let her speak again before crashing my lips to hers, the kiss far more insistent this time—demanding, as if to erase every trace of the hurt between us.

“Freckles...” I growled against her lips, my voice thick with dark desire. “In a few minutes, you won’t even remember your own name. I’ll make you forget everything... except me.”