by S. R. Grey
And you bet your ass I’ll be back.
Nothing can change my mind now.
For old time’s sake, I decide to drive over to the old theatre where Becca and I first met. The little town where it’s located isn’t far.
That means I reach my destination quickly.
“Hey, Say Anything is playing,” I murmur to myself when I see the marquee.
Someone is pulling out of a spot right out in front, so I wait and pull in once they’re gone.
Yep, I’m going in.
I need to waste a little time to allow Becca a chance to return home anyway, right?
The movie will be a good distraction.
I’ll swing by her place afterward.
I check the clock on the dash and find it’s five to seven.
“Shit, the movie starts in five minutes. I better get my ass in there.”
I head inside and buy a ticket in the lobby.
Just for the hell of it—and mostly to remind me of Becca—I purchase a big tub of buttered popcorn from the concession stand.
Once I’m inside the theatre itself, it takes me a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.
The previews are playing, providing the only real illumination.
I forgot how dark this place is.
As I start down the aisle, I think about where I should sit. It’s not like the place is super crowded or anything, but there are more people in attendance than there were last time I was here.
I walk a few rows down, and then stop.
That’s when I hear a gasp from the back of the theatre, an all too familiar gasp.
Joy fills my heart as I spin around.
I see her, even in the darkness.
I’d know her anywhere.
Yes, there she is in the back row, right where we sat on Valentine’s Day.
Softly, I murmur, “Becca?”
I take one step in her direction, praying she doesn’t get up and run.
History Rewritten
Holy crap!
Lars just walked into the theatre.
What’s the chance?
I let out a gasp of surprise.
I think he hears me.
Why else is he turning around?
Even from a few rows away, that electricity that always runs between us sparks to life.
It’s only been a little over two weeks since I last saw him, but it feels like forever.
I thought I was doing sort of okay without him.
Ha!
How could I have been so blind?
I was sadly mistaken.
This man gives me life.
I feel more alive now, my senses more acute, especially when it comes to him.
I guess that’s why I can hear him when he says, “Becca?”
I swear I even smell the popcorn he’s holding.
I smile at him, and he smiles back.
Damn, Lars is more gorgeous than ever.
I forgot how he takes my breath away.
I love every part about him, from his messy chestnut-brown hair, his deep-set dark eyes, his strong jaw, his aquiline nose, all the way down to his good heart.
I glance down, appreciating how his dark blue jeans hug his strong quads, and how the forest green pullover he has on is snug enough to beautifully show off his wide shoulders and bulging biceps.
I need him near me now!
I start to beckon him over to join me in the last row, but he’s already on his way.
Guess he feels the same way I do.
On the big screen, the previews are wrapping up.
Who cares?
My focus is solely on Lars.
When he reaches me, despite the fact that he stops a few seats away, my body starts buzzing.
I’m shaking, just like Lloyd Dobler in the back seat of the car with Diane.
How ironic is it that this is the movie we’ve both come to see?
What brought him here?
He couldn’t have seen my car since I parked in the back.
And why would Lars be on this side of town anyway?
Is this just meant to be?
Did fate lead him here?
Did it lead me?
I ask myself if there are ever really any accidents.
I don’t think so.
He clears his throat, and I look up at him.
We have so much to say.
But now is not the time.
We just need to live in this moment.
We need to go with the flow.
We need to get back to us.
He knows it.
I know it.
Raising a brow, Lars utters the words I said to him the night we met. “You don’t mind if I sit here in this last row with you, do you?”
I nod.
He smirks and adds, “I don’t mean with you, with you, of course. It’s just that I get vertigo if I sit too close to the screen.”
Snickering, I reply, “Well, this is definitely not close.”
“No.” He smiles. “It’s not.”
I can’t believe he remembers our conversation so well, almost word by word.
I can’t believe I remember it too.
I do, though, so I say, “I don’t mind the company.”
His eyes tell me he knows what we’re doing—we’re rewriting our past.
Maybe in doing so, we can recoup what we lost?
“Cool. Thanks,” he says.
Lars sits a couple of seats away, just like I did that fateful night.
Extending the cardboard tub of popcorn he’s holding, he gives it a little shake.
Trying not to laugh, he says, “I’m open to sharing.”
I raise a hand, holding in my own great big grin. “No thanks, I’m good.”
“Whatever.” Pretending to be offended, he pulls away the popcorn and snaps, “Suit yourself.”
Ooh, he’s good at this game.
But I am too.
“It’s just that I don’t like it.”
“Like what?” Lars says, following the script that was written so long ago, acting as if he has no clue.
“Popcorn.” I motion to the bucket in his lap. “I’m not a fan.”
“Oh.”
He smiles over at me.
The theatre dims even more, almost to full darkness, as the movie begins. Lars and I look at the screen, and it’s like we know we won’t reenact the parts of our conversation that were about the movie playing Valentine’s night, as this one is different. Nor do we mention anything about snow, seeing as it’s May.
He does lean toward me, though.
So I pick up our trip to the past there.
Patting the seat next to me, I say, “You should move over here.”
He shrugs. “Okay.”
“Cool.”
Once Lars is seated next to me, he sets the popcorn tub on the floor.
Oooh, I know what comes next.
Trying to appear nonchalant, I drape an arm around the back of his seat.
He moves closer, his knee touching mine.
The electricity reaches insane heights, just like it did that night, and I murmur, “Beautiful.”
Out of the blue—totally deviating from the script, though in the best possible way—Lars snatches me up in his strong, capable arms so quickly that I barely know what’s happening.
He then starts kissing me furiously.
Finally!
A Sexy Detour
Becca and I have been playing a game, one we obviously both like.
We are echoing the lines we uttered to each other the night we first met.
But I’m in her role.
And she’s in mine.
Our reenactment reaches a point where it must become a different story, though—a better one, one with a new outcome.
That’s why I don’t just tentatively press my lips to hers, like she did to me that first night. No, I fucking take charge, snatching Becca up in my arms like she’s a rag doll and kissing her like my life depe
nds on it.
It just may.
Perhaps it does for her too, as she lets out a gasp, pulling back to breathe me in.
But just as quickly, she’s kissing me just as enthusiastically.
It’s exhilarating.
My soul heals as I drink her in. Becca is honeysuckles and soft woman, like in the beginning.
No, wait, she’s much more now.
She’s the woman I love more than anything in the world.
How could I have ever entertained a life without her, even if it was only for a minute?
Becca and I have so much to discuss, but it can wait.
We need this reprieve.
This is how we’ll rebuild.
Our rewrite continues, with me stopping long enough to ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”
This time, she doesn’t run.
I welcome this deviation from source material, smiling at her like a mofo.
Snickering, she says, “Let’s go to my house. It’s closer.”
Chuckling, I say, “I like the way you think.”
This rewrite is on.
As we stand, we’re met with a few disapproving stares from the folks who are close enough to have witnessed our steamy make-out session.
They’ll live.
“Guess we’re more interesting than the movie,” Becca whispers to me.
“Guess so,” I reply a little louder than necessary.
One woman scoffs, and then we get the hell out of there.
Once we’re out on the sidewalk, I nod to my SUV. “I can drive. You can just leave your car.” I glance around. “Where is it, anyway?”
“It’s in the back alley,” Becca says.
“Ah, okay. We’ll pick it up in the morning. Is that okay with you?”
Stepping over to the passenger side of the Navigator, she says, “That’s more than okay with me.”
We don’t want to separate, even if it is just to take our own vehicles to her house.
We’re together now, and together we must stay.
There is still more healing to do, healing that starts inside the Nav.
I barely have the engine running before Becca is reaching over the console, running her hand up my jean-clad leg.
Closer, closer…
Chuckling, I warn, “You better stop what you’re doing or we may not make it to your house.”
She raises a brow. “Who says we have to, Lars?”
“Christ, you’re killing me, woman.”
“Just drive,” Becca demands, moving her hand up until it’s covering my cock.
That gets me rolling.
I’ve never been so glad this little town is so tiny. Nor have I ever been as happy that the route to Becca’s house is desolate and tree-lined.
As we travel down a lonely country road, Becca rubs my dick through my jeans, making me longer and harder.
“We should stop somewhere,” she breathes, as desperate for more contact as I am.
“Where do you suggest we go?” I ask.
Hey, I’m more than game to continue this somewhere more private.
I don’t think we’re going to make it to her house.
Pointing to a break in the trees up ahead, she says, “There’s an old dirt road that leads down to a lake just up there a bit. It used to be a fishing spot, but no one ever goes there anymore. It’s overgrown and the road is in disrepair. I think we can manage, though.”
“Ah, no worries.” Patting the dash, I say confidently, “We’ll make it down that road in this.”
“I think we will, Lars,” she coos.
“And when we do…”
Leaning over to trail kisses down along my neck, she says, “I’m thinking the exact same thing.”
There Is Nowhere Else I’d Rather Be
Lars turns onto the dirt road I direct him to as darkness descends.
The old country lane is bumpy and rutted, like I told him it would be, but his vehicle handles it adeptly, just as we knew it would.
“I told you the ole Nav would come through,” he says, winking over at me.
God, he is beautiful.
And he doesn’t even know it, not really.
As we travel down the gravelly lane at a snail’s pace, thick weeds and greenery brush along the sides.
I barely notice, as I’m too anxious and excited. I guess that’s why it feels like it’s taking forever to reach the lake.
But then I see it, a silvery mirror against the nighttime sky.
I only take it in briefly, as I can’t keep my hands—or lips—off Lars.
Not that he’s stopping me.
Undoing his jeans, I slip my hand inside.
He hits the brakes and we come to a full stop. “Damn, woman.”
I look up.
It’s so pretty, the scene before us. The lake is like a picture, calm and still. There’s a big full moon up in the dark sky, a sky blanketed in a million twinkling stars.
Leaning my head on Lars’s shoulder, still stroking him, I whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he tells me, kissing the top of my head.
We have so much to talk about, but it can wait.
Expressing our love is all that matters right now.
He undoes his seat belt, and with my free hand, I rid myself of mine.
He then moves his seat back, and I crawl over the console to straddle him.
Placing my hands on either side of his face, I tell him, “I’ve missed you so much.”
Wrapping his arms around me, he pulls me in as close as he can. “Not as much as I’ve missed you, Becca.”
Beneath me, I feel how damn hard he is.
Pressing down onto him, eliciting a husky groan, I murmur, “I can tell.”
Turning serious, Lars urges me back so he can see my face.
Peering into my eyes, he says quietly, “We have a lot to talk about. I know that. But the only thing that needs to be put out there right now is that I want you in my life. You can run to the ends of the Earth, sweetheart, but I think you know I will never quit chasing you.” He tells me that he was looking for me, and how he stopped by my house. “I sat out back for a while, just thinking about us.”
“I was going to try and find you tonight too,” I whisper. “I was just building up the courage. That’s why I stopped at the theatre, to strengthen my resolve. I was planning to drive straight over to your house directly after.”
“Yeah?”
He doesn’t look totally convinced, and I think I know what he needs to hear.
Softly, I say, “I’m sorry, Lars. I want you to know something—I’m done running. Unless, of course…” I brush back a swath of dark hair from his forehead. “It’s with you.”
“How do you mean, unless it’s with me?”
Running my hand along his stubbled cheek, I explain, “I mean if you ever are traded to another team, I’ll go with you. I will run with you, not away from you.”
Raising a brow, he asks, “What about your business and your life here?”
“There is no life without you.” I take a deep breath before exhaling slowly. And then I continue, “I’m sure Jodi and I would work something out. Maybe I’d just open another bridal consulting shop in a different city. It could be like a franchise, or an expansion.”
“You wouldn’t miss working directly with her? I mean, shit, you two are a team.”
“Not as much as you and I are,” I reply. “Jodi knows that too.”
Shaking his head, Lars says, “You amaze me, woman. I love you so fucking much.”
I press my forehead to his. “I love you too, you gorgeous man.”
What started out as desperate now becomes tender and soft. Lars lifts my hand from his face and kisses my palm.
Raising the hem of my sweater, he tugs it up and over my head, interrupting our make-out session only for a beat.
His shirt is next.
And then my bra.
My skin next to his feels like heaven.
&nb
sp; It’s been far too long.
I kiss Lars with renewed enthusiasm.
And beneath my lips, I feel him smile.
But then he’s back to moving his lips with mine.
We’re synchronized in our movements, even as he helps me take off my jeans, my panties discarded along with them.
And then it’s his turn.
I tug down his jeans and boxers with his help.
When his cock springs free, I’m on him. He works my clit until I’m so wet that he slips right in.
We gasp, our eyes meeting.
“Fuck, Becca.”
“I know, right?”
He feels unbelievably amazing.
I hope I do for him too.
I think I may, based on how he’s swallowing hard and closing his eyes.
“Is it okay to move?” I ask softly.
“Yeah…” He blows out a breath. “Just go slowly for a minute.”
Lars is usually so controlled.
I kind of love that I can make him falter.
But his loss of control doesn’t last for long.
Soon he’s back to his usual self, lifting me and working me up and down his length with skill.
“Come for me, Becs,” he urges.
I can’t even speak as pleasure floods through me.
I expect Lars to follow in his release, but he holds off, working me up to another crashing crescendo.
My legs are shaking, my vision blurred as I collapse against his strong chest. “Let go,” I whisper.
He does, and I feel him explode.
For a long time afterward, we just hold onto each other, listening to our mingled heartbeats and breaths.
A solace comes over me at that moment.
I’m no longer worried about anything.
I know that we are truly together, as one, stronger than ever.
What I told Lars is true—I will never run from him ever again.
He’s finally caught me.
But there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
Forever Promises
In the days ahead, so much happens.
First, Becca and I finally have that talk we put off.
So much is resolved. We work out all of our misunderstandings. I apologize to her for what Mandy did—absconding my phone and texting those stupid selfies and the rude text to her.
Becca, shaking her head, replies, “Lars, stop. I’m not even mad about that any longer.”