Falling For Us Again

18. NIGHT VISIT

Chapter 18

NIGHT VISIT

Dylan

It’s late by the time I pull up outside Jenna’s house, the streetlights casting long, uneven shadows over the cracked sidewalk. I sit in the car, staring at the porch lights, debating whether I should even be here.

It’s not like I had a real reason to come by.

Maggie mentioned Jenna and Lola stopped by the cafe earlier, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about since then.

I need to see her.

With a deep breath, I shut off the engine and step out of the car, the cool night air wrapping around me. My feet carry me to the front door before I can change my mind.

I knock once, twice, and then I hear the soft shuffle of footsteps on the other side.

The door swings open, and there she is, standing in the soft glow of the hallway light, her eyes widening just a little when she sees me.

Faint shadows under her eyes give away the fact that she’s tired and hasn’t been sleeping well.

“Dylan,” she says, her voice soft and surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Maggie mentioned that you were at the cafe earlier,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Jenna steps aside for me to come in. I brush past her, my shoulder grazing hers for a brief second, and that small contact makes my pulse quicken.

There are traces of her everywhere—the half-empty coffee cup on the table, the stack of books piled haphazardly near the couch, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air.

The house finally feels like it has come alive after all these years.

“So, what’s up?” she asks, leaning against the arm of the couch, her arms crossing over her chest. She’s watching me closely, waiting for me to say something, and for a second, I feel like a smitten teenager, fumbling for the right words around her.

“I saw Brian a few days ago,” I say, the words coming out filled with anger. “With another woman.”

Her expression falters, the softness around her eyes hardening just a bit. She doesn’t speak right away, but I can see the disappointment settling in. “That piece of shit.”

“Wait, you already know he’s cheating on her?” My brows furrow to a frown.

She tucks her hair behind her ears before nodding.

“Wow. So, Lola already knows.” I say without any doubt.

Jenna says through gritted teeth. “She said they were going to work through it. They were in therapy. She was willing to forgive him.”

“When did you see him with the other woman?”

“A couple of days ago.”

“My God.” Her hands clench in her lap. “Have you told her yet?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. I didn’t... I didn’t know how to tell her. Maggie and I saw them outside the bar. I pulled Lola back inside before she could see. She was drunk.”

Jenna exhales, her shoulders slumping slightly as she takes it in. “That’s going to crush her. She’s back to planning their wedding, thinking everything’s fine now. That he was truly sorry this time. That useless cheat, Ugh!”

“Yeah,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “Cheaters are truly the worst kind of people.”

Our gazes meet before she blinks away, letting the obvious jab slide.

“I’ll talk to her.” She sighs. “She needs to know.”

Her phone rings cutting through the silence. It’s coming from another room, and Jenna stands up to answer it.

Left alone in her living room, I walk to the coffee table and pick up an old book, flipping through the pages absently.

I can hear Jenna speaking in low tones; it seems like she's talking to her aunt. She returns to the living room after a few minutes.

I turn another page, and a photo slips out from between the yellowed paper. It flutters to the floor, landing face-up.

I crouch down and pick it up, my fingers brushing over the worn edges of the image. It’s a picture of us. From high school.

We’re sitting on the hood of my old truck, both of us grinning like idiots. Jenna’s leaning into me, her arm slung over my shoulders, my hand resting on her knee.

The sunlight is glaring in the background, the world bathed in that warm, golden glow that makes everything look perfect.

“What’s that?” she asks, walking towards me.

“Wow,” I murmur, holding the photo out to her. “I can’t believe this still exists.”

“Oh goodness.” Jenna smiles softly, taking it from me. Her fingers linger on the image, tracing the lines of our younger selves. “We were so young.”

“I miss my old truck.”

“It was iconic.” She laughs. “Sneaking out for late-night drives while fearing your mother would seize your truck and my father would ground me.”

“The way we did this countless times even though we told each other that we’d get caught. We never got caught.”

“Geez. what crazy times.”

I nod, the memories of those days flooding back in a rush. Late-night drives, sneaking out to the lake—the way everything felt so intense and alive back then. Like we could take on the world, and nothing could ever touch us.

I stare at her. “What happened to us, Jenna?”

She looks up at me, her eyes shadowed with something I can’t quite place. Regret? Sadness? Guilt? Maybe all of it. “Life happened,” she says simply, her voice tinged with a kind of resignation that makes my chest tighten.

I reach out and brush a strand of hair away from her face. Her breath catches, and for a second, everything around us stand still.

“We were good together, weren’t we?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

She meets my gaze, her eyes locking with mine in a way that makes the room feel smaller and more intimate. “Yes,” she whispers back. “We were.”

Something shifts in the air between us. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to make my pulse quicken, enough to make me step closer. Her eyes flicker to my mouth, and I can see the same thought crossing her mind.

The pull between us is undeniable, magnetic—the kind that makes it impossible to think straight.

Without another word, I close the distance between us. My hand slides to the back of her neck, pulling her toward me, and then I’m kissing her. It’s not gentle or slow—it’s hungry, desperate like I can’t get close enough.

She kisses me back just as fiercely, her hands gripping my shirt, pulling me closer, her body pressing into mine. The heat between us is raw and electric, something that’s always been there. Something that never burned out, not even for a second.

We stumble back onto the couch, our bodies tangling, hands roaming, pulling, needing more.

“I've missed you, Jenna,” I whisper in her ear as my hands trail up her thighs. She shivers from my touch, her body pressing deeper into mine not wanting any distance between us.

“I’ve missed you for so long. I’ve missed talking to you, missed kissing you like this, missed making you quiver with my touch.” I push her panties aside and caress her already drenched folds.

“Oh Dylan,” she moans loudly, her hands in my hair.

Everything else fades, and it’s just us—just the feel of her beneath me, the sound of her moans, the way her body clenches in response to each word I say.

I love how her body responds to me.

We stumble into her bedroom, tearing off each other’s clothes as we find our way to the bed. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. Just the two of us, moving together, lost in our passionate attraction, like this is the only thing that makes sense.

Her skin is warm beneath my hands, soft and familiar, and the sound of her name on my lips is like a prayer. I kiss her deeper, losing myself in her taste and in the way she whispers my name like she’s afraid it’ll break this carefree spell.

I trail kisses all over her body and rub my hardness against her sleek entrance, watching her shake with need. Then, I enter, filling her completely, groaning her name as her tightness grips me like a glove.

She’s always been a perfect fit for me. We move in sync, moaning in unison as I thrust into her. I lift her hips to drive even deeper, and her hands grip my back, her eyes half-closed, mouth open in ecstasy as we find sweet release.

When it’s over, we lie there in the dark, our breathing slowing, our bodies still tangled together. The silence stretches between us, but this time, it doesn’t feel heavy. It feels... right.

I run a hand through her hair, my heart still racing, and she looks up at me with those eyes that have always had the power to undo me.

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?” It’s more of a statement than a question. I already know the answer.

Jenna doesn’t say anything right away, but the look in her eyes says it all.

There’s a sadness there—a kind of bittersweet understanding that this moment can’t last forever.