Jon had experienced moments of crystal clarity only a few times in his life, but none as powerfully as this.
There had been the time in primary school, when Lucy had stepped in between him and another six-year-old who was picking on him for not knowing anything about football. She'd said, "At least he knows stuff about things that actually matter," and he'd felt, in that instant, that they'd be friends for life.
Then there'd been the moment he stood on a stage for the first time, guitar in hand, and known beyond any doubt that performing music was what he was born for.
And then there was the time when he'd been approached by his now manager, who wanted him—but only him. Not Lucy. And he'd known it was his one shot at his dream—but that he'd be leaving his heart behind to take it.
But now, looking at Lucy in the twilight, her face so familiar, so loved, right down to the uncertainty and suspicion in her eyes, the clarity was blinding.
This was his second chance. And he was damned if he wasn't going to take it.
He leaned closer, one hand coming up automatically to brush a strand of blonde hair away from her face.
"Jon?" she asked, more uncertain than suspicious and maybe, if he was lucky, just a little bit hopeful.
"I missed you so much," he said, the honesty pouring out of him without even thinking about it. "Every day I missed you. I was living my dream and…it didn't feel complete without you. That's why I came back." Even if he hadn't realised it until now.
She raised a solitary eyebrow at him. "Couldn't forget that one magic night we spent together? When we were both drunk, and I burst into tears at the end?"
He huffed a laugh at the memory. Yes, they'd got drunk together after the gig and yes,that was why he'd had the guts to kiss her at all. And even though her regretful tears afterwards had burned his heart, he couldn't forget the one time he'd finally got to touch every inch of her creamy skin, to follow his fingertips on her body with his lips. To slide home inside her and know he'd found the only place he belonged.
But more than that, he'd missed their friendship.
"Luce, you were my best friend my whole life, near enough. I missed you."
"Right. Of course." She pulled back, and he felt the embarrassment settling between them. Damn it. He'd screwed up again. Made her think that their night together meant nothing.
When in fact, it had meant everything.
He had to make it right.
He reached for her again, letting his hand settle against her cheek this time as she met his gaze.
"But if you believe I didn't think about the one night I spent making love to you every single day I was gone, you're wrong."
Log in or create an account to read the next chapter of "Reunited in Wishcliffe"
Every month we select a new title from one of our authors so that you can discover new stories, locations and genres for free.