I wondered where Zach was, if he would even talk to me after I had run out on him. If he’d understand. What if he was sick of the drama? I had my one chance and I might have totally blown it.

At the thought of never being with Zach again, my throat tightened and tears pricked my eyes. Again. But I was becoming a pro, and I pushed them back.

I would go to him and if it didn’t work out, it didn’t work out. There would be nothing I could do.

I pushed my key into the lock and stepped inside. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

“You’re still here?” I shut the door, let my bag fall to the floor and stepped closer to Zach. Tufts of his dark hair stuck up wildly, reminding me of our earlier encounter.

He shrugged and I hated the defeat in his eyes. “I figured you’d have to come back eventually.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

“About what?”

“Everything.” I wrapped my arms around myself and started walking away. I got to the middle of the room when I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. For so long I had made myself believe that I hated how my body reacted to him, when in reality, I absolutely loved it.

“No. I’m sorry.” He stepped closer, his chest pressing against my back.

I turned around until I looked into his eyes. “Why you?”

Hurt filled his eyes. “I was the one who stopped calling.”

“It’s in the past,” I said.

“Maybe for you, but not for me. It keeps me up at night. Makes me question my life and how different it would be if I had handled things better.”

He shrugged, and as stupid as it may be, I was happy to know I wasn’t the only one still dwelling on the past. But at the same time I wanted to erase the pain, find a way to make the last year disappear.

“I loved you so much, and I was scared.” He ran his hands through his hair took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, as if he was giving himself time to choose the right words. “We were on different sides of the country. And Josh told me you weren’t handling it well. Our phone calls were great and I looked forward to them. You know I did. But let’s face it—it wasn’t enough.

“I wanted to hold you, touch you, see you, and I know you wanted the same. It broke my heart to know you were hurting. I’ve never felt so helpless. And even though you tried to hide the sadness in your voice, you couldn’t. Not from me. As the weeks went on it only seemed to get worse. I pretended everything was okay because the thought of losing you . . .”

He shook his head and when his eyes met mine again, I felt it. All the pain I endured. The ache that ripped me apart. The longing to go back in time. I thought I was alone, that nobody could understand what I was going through. But even when he wasn’t there, he was, because he felt it too.

“Josh told me you were spending less and less time with your friends, that you’d stopped enjoying the things you loved. That’s what hurt the most. Knowing you were miserable and missing out on your life because you were waiting by the phone. I just wanted you to be happy again. To be the Lizzie I loved. I didn’t want to be responsible for taking that away from you. For changing you.

“It wasn’t fair. For you. For me. For the both of us. But especially you. You deserved the world and I couldn’t give it to you anymore. So I stopped calling. I knew it would hurt you, but in time you would move on. I never expected it to do the one thing I was trying to save you from.”

I looked at him, waiting.

“It changed you.

“That first day I saw you in the hallway—I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect what I got. You were cold and bitter. It was like I never knew you at all.

“My heart always knew, but until that moment I could never convince myself—letting you go was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” He moved closer, but he’d had his chance to make peace and it was my turn.

“I loved you too. You know? And when you stopped calling you broke my heart. I thought it was me. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought you had found someone else.”

“Never. No one could ever compare to you. Not even now,” he said.

“Do you mean that?”

He went to say something, then stopped. He ran his hand through his hair as if he was debating to jump all in or play it safe. If he did, I wouldn’t blame him. I hid from us for so long because I knew the pain our relationship could cause. As mind-blowing as it was, it was just as terrifying.

Dark brown eyes looked back down at me. “With all my heart. I never stopped loving you, Lizzie.”

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips and my body moved towards him, but he stepped away.

Concern filled his dark gaze. “What if I hurt you again?”

“You won’t,” I said.

“How do you know for sure? I hurt you once.”

I dropped my eyes to the ground, his words slicing into my gut. “You did.” I fought the urge to succumb to the bitter truth and walk away with my heart intact. But I glanced up and when his eyes met mine, it was clear. “But you’ll hurt me more by staying away.”

For months I thought I couldn’t stand Zach, but the truth was, I couldn’t stand not being with him. Seeing him every day only reminded me of how happy I was when we were together and how miserable I became when we weren’t.

He was the only one who could hurt me, but he was also the only one who could make me happy.

It was a risk, and my heart was on the line. But since the day I spotted the lanky, curly-haired boy on the football field, my heart didn’t only belong to me anymore.

I stepped closer, needing to feel the warmth that spread through my body whenever he touched me. Needing to make up for all the time we lost.

I looked directly into his dark, familiar eyes and said, “Will you kiss me already?”

He moved closer, reaching his hand out to my cheek. His thumb brushed across my skin, shooting chills down my spine. I glided my hands across his strong, broad shoulders, memorizing the familiar yet different feel.

His mouth came down on mine, our connection evident when I parted my lips and our tongues tangled.

I knew Zach and I would have good days and bad days, but right then . . . we were having a good day.

A really, really good day.

And I wanted to remember it forever. I had waited eighteen and a half years for this very moment. So many times it could have happened with Joe, but something had held me back. I knew now that it was because Joe wasn’t the one. He never was. He was a bookmark, holding a place until I was ready to pick up where I left off.

Zach was the one. The only one for me.

I ran my fingers through the silky softness of his hair, pulling him with me as I stepped towards my bedroom. Needing to be as close to him as possible.

My feet swept out from under me, and I was in his arms, pressed against his warm, hard chest, his lips never leaving mine.

He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. The cool softness of my sheets replaced his arms as he laid me on the bed. Hands travelled down my sides, pulling my shirt up until it was back on the floor.

My hands gripped the bottom of his shirt, and I pulled it up over his head then dropped it to join mine. I ran my hands from his abs to his pecs, taking in how much larger, stronger, harder they were than in the days when we had locked ourselves in my bedroom in high school.

His lips kissed a familiar line down my neck, chest and stomach, then moved back up to kiss in between my breasts. Strong hands lifted me and I snuggled into the crook of his neck as he unfastened my bra. He slid it off one lacy strap at a time, raining kisses along the material.

The first cup fell down and he dipped his head taking my nipple in his mouth. It was something he had done before but everything about it was different now. More intimate.

A moan slipped from my mouth and I arched, pressing against him, needing our bodies to mold together even more closely.

His tongue circled, making a slow dance across my chest and down my stomach. Heat radiated from where his hands rested on my sides, lifting me into him. I plunged my fingers into his hair, tugging him back to me.

Long fingers traced the contour of my face before dragging a slow, mind-numbing line down my neck, the effects streaming all the way down to my toes.

But it wasn’t enough. I thrust my hips forward, running my fingers along the muscled ridges of his back, exploring the new Zach and rediscovering the old.

He kissed my nose, moving his lips down the length of my neck.

My body throbbed and he continued the slow journey down my stomach, stopping just above the button of my jeans. For a moment he stayed there, as if he was afraid I would bolt if he tried to go any further.

“Zach, please,” I whimpered, desperate for his touch. I was finally ready to hand over my v-card to the one person who truly deserved it.

A sense of calm washed over me—I wasn’t running this time. I was staying exactly where I was. I wanted him. Needed him. Needed all of him. For so long I had waited for the perfect moment. But now I realized, it wasn’t about the moment. It was about the person.

I reached down, placing my hand under his chin and urging him to look at me.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice gruff with desire.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

He dropped another kiss to my stomach and then unfastened the button.

I waited for the fear to consume me. But as he slid off my jeans, there was no trepidation. I wanted this. Wanted him.

I helped him with his pants then pointed to the drawer of my nightstand. Zach leaned over and opened it, then looked at me curiously.