Light in Mourning (Mourning, #2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

rehash things that have already been said. It’s terrible, all of the decisions I made during the summer. I have so many regrets.”
    Regrets.  
    There was that word. We’d promised each other no regrets, so was she telling me she regretted me? All of it? Because I sure as hell didn't. She was the last thing I regretted. I regretted I’d tried my stupid caveman way of forgetting her by fucking other girls and flaunting it. I regretted it so much the bile rose in my throat at the memory of the pain etched across her face.  
    But, her? I didn’t regret her.  
    And if she told me she regretted me, I didn’t know what I would do. But I knew it would include a bottle of scotch.
    “I think I wanted to come back. I left a piece of myself here. The biggest piece. I left me here. But when I got back to DC, I just . . . was consumed by Kyle. He’s like that; takes over my whole world . . . we always go back to each other.”
    “Is this time different?” I asked her point-blank. I had to know.  
    Her brows furrowed as she took in my words. “Yes,” she said. I watched for any indication that she didn’t believe what she was saying. I didn’t see any. She looked determined. Her jaw set, her eyes hard.  
    “Do you think that means something for us?” I didn’t want to ask it, but I wanted it answered. I was trying not to lay my cards on the table, but that’s who I am. I don’t pull bullshit. I don’t play games. I’m straightforward and what I needed at that moment was to know what she was thinking about us.  
    “Tristan,” she murmured, her eyes downcast, still chewing on her lip.  
    “Sorry, don’t answer. I didn’t mean to get into all of this. I’m just here for dinner.” I shot her my best reassuring smile, but it didn’t seem to help. She was still lost in thought, playing with the label on her beer bottle.  
    “Hey.” I scooted closer to her on the couch and rested my palm on her knee. Her eyes darted up to meet mine, emotions swirling, unanswered questions burning. I ran my thumb along the soft fabric of her leggings and watched her breathing pick up, her chest heaving as her lips parted and she inhaled deeply.  
    “I want us . . . I want to be . . .” She hardened the set of her jaw and glanced away from me.  
    She wants what?
    She wants us to be friends?
    Fuck, please don’t let her say she just wants to be friends. I glanced at Charlie and mentally willed him to prepare for a hasty exit, but his old brown eyes refused to meet mine. Distracted fucker. Give him a bone and he’s rendered useless. Fuck him. I’ll leave him. If she says she just wants to be friends, I’m out the door in a flash, no turning back.  
    “I want you, but more than that, I want to take it slow,” she said on a rush of breath. I was so lost in my thoughts it took a moment for my brain to register her words.  
    She wants me.  
    Holy fuck, Georgia wants me.  
    The one thing I’d been desperate for her to say all summer and she’d just said it.  
    I heaved a giant sigh and the anxiety that had settled in my chest eased. I clenched my eyes tightly and ran my palm over my face.  
    “I . . . do you not want that?” she squeaked. I scrubbed my palm across my face and then met her eyes, a grin breaking out across my mouth. I was so fucking relieved. A weight had lifted from my shoulders.  
    “I can give you slow, Georgia. I don’t know if I can give you space, because the last five days have been torture having you right here and not seeing you, but I’ll give you slow. Just don’t ask me to stay away.” I leaned into her, fisted one hand in her thick hair and pulled her lips to mine. I claimed her in a fierce kiss—strong, confident, quick—and then pulled away again.  
    Her eyes were wide with shock. Her breath came out in quick pants.  
    She was so fucking turned on it was evident by that hooded look in her eyes, her chest rising and falling, the way she shifted her legs. Fuck yes, I had her. I