Never Stop

21. Via

Chapter twenty-one

Via

T he night was long with Ander. It was a night filled with deep conversations and laughs, and we were consumed by one another as if no time had passed between us. Every bit of it was perfect, even though he held out on me, which made it pretty damn difficult.

I look across the room at the shirtless, perfect man strumming on his acoustic guitar that he grabbed from his truck earlier this morning. As he sits in boxers, I have to stop myself from drooling. He's singing me one of the songs he clearly wrote about our teenage romance, and I can't help but feel that we are coming full circle. I can't believe I've never heard any of these songs before now. After our first date, I did my deep dive search, and he totally underplayed his success. He's had multiple record label offers, all of which he's turned down.

His voice draws me in, and I can't ignore him. He strums on that guitar so effortlessly, like it's second nature, just like he always has. The teenage version of me is swooning inside, hanging on every strum and word that rasps out of his perfect mouth.

"Why have you turned down all the record label offers? Your music deserves to be heard, Ander." My words are soft and careful. I already have a sense of how he feels about this.

He stops strumming as he leans over his guitar, and his eyes meet mine. His face is serious, like he's deep in thought. He's so different than I am. I'm quick to respond to everything.

He shrugs and finally, after processing my question long enough, "You know me, V. That was never what I was after. My songs were only ever meant for one person."I arch an eyebrow at him curiously. I lean back in my chair, seated across from him in my living room, patiently waiting for him to continue.

"You, my Rosie. Most of my songs are about us, about our love, about the grief I felt when I lost you. They were never meant for anyone other than you. I'm not looking for fame from them. I like writing them. It helps me to process how I'm feeling inside."

I stare at him for a beat. It's my turn to soak in his words and process. Part of me is instinctively freaking out inside as I realize I can't hold back from him any longer.

I want this.

I want everything with him. I always have. It's always been Ander and Via against the world, but that other part of me knows this is a bad idea. The part of me that craves him seems to be winning.

"Do you want to go on an adventure with me?" He asks, interrupting my thoughts. I can't help but let out a laugh. He smirked smugly as if he knew something that I didn't know.

"Well, look at this shit, Anderson Cole wants to be adventurous? What's gotten into you, Mr. TikTok?" I tease him playfully as the laughs spill from me. He joins along briefly as he rolls his eyes. That sexy, tempting grin meets his lips as his eyes glare into me with a fire behind them. He sets his guitar down and pads across the living room over to me. He pulls me up into a hug. My head rests perfectly against his chest, right below his chin. It always has. I stand at five foot six inches, and he must stand about six foot three. Somehow, we intertwine perfectly.

"Ha. So damn funny. Now hush that pretty mouth and get dressed so we can leave before I'm tempted to shut it for you." He's looking down at me and winks as he kisses my forehead. He releases me and grabs my hand, motioning me toward my bedroom, laying a firm smack on my ass as I walk by.

Looking over my shoulder, I turn back at him, "I might like that." I return his wink. He lets out a low growl, forces himself to turn away, and shakes his head as he runs a hand through his hair.

Ander wouldn't tell me where we were going, but I already had an idea. I know this ride down to the Island like the back of my hand. It's imprinted in my mind like a road map to my heart. I haven't been able to come back since the accident.

Six whole years of not going to your favorite place, a place that was once your safe haven, is a long time. I'm flooded with memories when I taste the salt in the air. Exiting the bridge and turning onto the one road into Grand Isle almost becomes too much. There's a pulsing ache in my stomach, hoping not to pass by our old beach home.

I almost tell Ander that I can't handle this, but who the fuck am I if I turn down an adventure.

As if he could sense my nervousness, he reached across the console of his truck and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly and running his thumb back and forth across the palm of my hand. I smile up at him, letting him know I'm not just stuck in my head but also here with him.

My breath hitches as the truck pulls into the driveway of my family's old beach home. I glare, confused, at Ander, who has his lips in a straight line. I can tell he's nervous.

"Ander. . . What—"

"I bought it, Rosie." His voice is shaky. He breaks eye contact and looks down at our hands, still clamped together, his thumb tracing the lines on my palm.

Shaking my head in disbelief, "How the— . . . How?" My eyes shoot to him, confused.

His lips form a straight line, attempting a smile before he offers, "The owner that Liam sold it to put it up for sale again three years ago. It was at the exact time that I was looking to purchase something. Seeing it on the market felt like a sign that I needed it to be mine. . . I feel closer to you here. When I couldn't have you, at least I had this place. At least I had the memories. There's no other place I'd rather call home."

His eyes break away from mine, looking at the field before us with a soft smile. I can tell he's in his head, thinking about how we once were. He's lost in the times when life seemed so much simpler. Right now, at this moment, I'm lost in the man before me. The broody, rough-around-the-edges man who bought my childhood home to feel close to me when I pushed him away.

I gasp. Pulling my hand away, I clamp it over my mouth and shake my head as tears well up in my eyes. I peer over, catching a look out the window at the home that felt like heaven when I was growing up. It felt like heaven because of the boy who stole my heart in this very field that sits across from us now.

"This is your home ?" I ask with a shaky voice.

He nods in return, and a singular tear falls from the grasp that my eyes previously held on it. Maverick said "Bear" lived a few towns over but never specified where.

I unbuckle my seat belt, climb over the console, and wrap myself around Ander, straddling his lap. My arms wrap behind his head, and I cling to him, needing to feel as close to him as possible. Our foreheads meet and rest against one another. His hands wrap around my waist, and in his arms, I feel a sense of home that I've missed for six years.

I can no longer stop the tears from falling. These bastards have a mind of their own, and I give up. He wastes no time, kissing each one of them away.

"Ander. . ." my voice is small; it comes out raspy—barely a whisper.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Am I crazy? Like absolutely fucking insane right now, or is it possible that two people could live their lives completely separated for this many years but never fall out of love?" I ask, shaking my head as the tears keep rolling. One of his arms wraps tighter around my waist, and the other moves up to cusp my cheek, his thumb rubbing circles on the apples of my cheek, wiping more tears away as they do.

Before he can speak, I blurt out again, still speaking softly.

"How is it that I haven't been able to feel anything romantic for anyone else in over six years. . . Yet I see you by chance, and my stupid heart decides to do cartwheels in my chest like a fucking acrobat, and all of those feelings I've suppressed for all of these years come flooding back like no time has passed." I sigh, trying to sort through my thoughts.

Ander pulls me in even closer to him, and our chests collide. He goes to speak, but my stupid big mouth won't shut the fuck up now that it started rambling.

"We're strangers, Ander. Strangers. We don't know each other anymore. I feel like I am losing my goddamn mind right now. Maybe I should call my shrink and tell her it's finally happened. Commit me!" I say the last part a little louder. "I've finally gone off the deep end. . . I must sound like a real winner right now." I chuckle now, showing my true crazy-ass colors, as I pull back out of his grasp slightly and wipe my cheeks, shaking my head.

I huff out a sigh. I'm frustrated at my rant, my feelings, and the mess I've made of my life by doing what I thought was right and losing the best thing that's ever happened to me in the process. I'm frustrated that I've wasted six years of my life suffering through those decisions out of fear.

What a damn idiot.

Ander looks me over in silence. His hands are on my waist, and he squeezes gently. His eyes are looking for mine, but I can't look at him now. I wonder if those gears in his head are burning smoke, trying to process everything I spewed at him. I giggled at the thought, solidifying that I am indeed insane.

Our eyes finally meet. I see nothing but tenderness and understanding. My heart swells. His hands rub up and down my thighs, back and forth, taking their time. Our gaze is locked, and I'm feeling the reality weigh down on everything I confessed.

I've spent less than 48 hours with the man I haven't seen in years and admitted to him that I still love him— so smooth, Via. You're a true gem .

He interrupts my very in-depth session of internal self-loathing by asking, "Can I talk now?" His voice is firm and gravel, but there's a hint of a smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. I don't respond. I've said enough. I shrug and offer a slight nod.

"Rosie, would you look at me, damn it." There's a small chuckle laced in his words, and he shakes his head with a smirk. I look up into his eyes as he pulls me back into him. We lock gazes, and I could get lost here. Those caramel-brown eyes are soft and on mine as if they can see down to the depths of my soul. It's intimidating and comforting all at once.

"If you're crazy, they will need to put us away together. I wonder if there's a joint straight jacket we could request? One where my hand is permanently positioned on your ass. If so, I'd be okay with that."

He's literally joking right now, and his smile grows as he starts laughing.

I sit confused for a second with my eyebrows furrowed, looking him over as I try to process what he's said and what it actually means.

"What the hell does that even mean?" my voice shows every bit of confusion I'm feeling.

He lets out another soft chuckle under his breath, runs a hand up and down my back, and pushes us together again.

"Woman, it means I have always been in love with you. I will always love you. We promised each other on the last night we spent together that we would never stop loving one another, and I never have, I never will, and I never can. You were created to be mine to love. Only mine."

I gasp, letting a deep breath fill my lungs. My mouth curves into a closed-lip smile, but the smile on my heart, which he can't see, is setting fire to my body.

"I tried moving on from you, V. It isn't possible. When someone like you imprints themselves on your life and your heart, no one else could compare. Whether you see it or not, you're fucking special." He leans in closer, holding eye contact to make me believe his words as much as he does.

"You're amazing in every way, and we aren't strangers. Sure, time has passed, but you're clear as day still the woman who taught my heart how to beat truly. You may still be a little neurotic at times, like right now with that rant, but that makes you much more interesting."

He laughs at his own stupid joke. Idiot . MY idiot.

"You're for me, and I'll always be for you."

"I mean, you are the one who bought my house to feel close to me. So we could technically say that you're the crazy one." I tease at him, and he shoves me playfully before putting both hands on my face and pulling me into a kiss that takes the breath and snarky comebacks right out of me.

After a while, he pulls back, "Babe, you can say I'm crazy; you can say I'm whatever you want. As long as you also say you'll give this a shot with me. I'll be happy."

My eyebrows furrow, and my nose scrunches as I shake my head. "So cheesy!" I giggle out at him.

"It ain't easy being cheesy, Rosie." He says back, smugly with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as he kisses the apples of both of my cheeks, which are currently fire red.

"Okay, Dr. Seuss," I snort. Can I go see the inside of the house?" I ask softly, feeling somewhat shy and nervous as I pull myself off of him and sit back in my seat. I stare out the window at the house and land that gave me life when I was younger. The memories come flooding in like a movie reel in my mind's eye.

Almost every memory I hold of this Island includes Ander, and for once, it doesn't hurt to remember.

I initially anticipated being in this house again would bring up too many memories and be too much to handle. However, it's been cathartic for me, especially being here with Ander. The furniture is different; the decor is lighter— more manly for sure— and the walls are painted various shades of grey instead of the bright blues my mom had painted them way back when. No matter the looks, the house still feels like home. It always felt more like home than our ranch home on the prairie in Sugarland did. It's still bizarre that this is Ander's home, but it brings me comfort.

The look of pride on his beautifully chiseled face as he took me on a tour of his home was enough to calm any storm that was trying to brew inside me.

As we return to the main living area, I walk over to the massive wall of windows that overlooks the beach. From wall to wall, all the windows start at the depths of the floor and spread their way up to the loft's tall, peaked ceiling. I forgot how absolutely breathtaking this view was. Grand Isle will never be the most tropical island beach in the world, but damn , it sure is paradise to me. My hand was placed against one of the many windows as my eyes searched the view. I take my time taking it all in. The sand isn't quite white, but not precisely brown, either. The water is more of a deep green than a crystal blue. It's definitely not like what most people imagine when they think of beach water, but it's paradise, and it's all the same. It's the beautiful line where the ocean meets the sky, leaving one unsure of where it ends and the other begins.

My head rests softly against the glass in front of me as my eyes fall on the field where it all began—our field. The grass is still wild, long, and overgrown, just as I remember it. The same walkway is flattened throughout, caused by foot traffic, not by cutting it.

I can feel Ander's presence growing closer. His woodsy scent fills my nostrils and wakes up all of my senses. I close my eyes and embrace the memory. He still smells like I remember him—that same masculine, earthy smell of cedar and sandalwood. I let out a breath, and my eyes shut tighter, soaking in the moment as I felt his touch on me. His hand wraps around my waist, and he leans his body into mine, wrapping me into a hug from behind. My head pulls off the window, and I lean it back onto his shoulder. I let out a sigh and opened my eyes. Anders' eyes are soft and gentle as they search mine.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

I arch my eyebrows playfully. "Always trying to get inside my damn head," I laugh, attempting to deflect.

"Yes," he deadpans, but his face is softer than his tone. I can sense he's worried that taking me here is too much for me. I could tell he was having an internal war with himself, and maybe he had made the wrong decision.

If I had to pick one thing I loved the most about Ander, it's that although he knew almost all of my terrible past, he was the one person who didn't treat me like I was a fragile piece of rare antique glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. Don't get me wrong; he was always caring towards me and much more with me than he ever was with anyone else. It's like he knew I could handle myself, and he walked with me through the challenges rather than trying to save me from the dragons. I always did appreciate that.

I smile at his honest answer and firm tone. Pulling myself out of his embrace, I turn to face him, grabbing one of his hands and leading him to the couch behind us. I plop down ungracefully— internal side note: I need to work on my ladylike skills.

Sitting crisscross on the expansively oversized, incredibly comfy couch, I pat the spot across from me, signaling for him to sit, too. Ander raises an eyebrow at me, and one corner of his mouth turns into a ghost of a smile. Then he takes a seat across from me, eyes intently on me.

"Thank you," I begin.

He scoffs, "For what?" Ander has always been incredibly confident and the biggest self-depreciator I've ever met.

"Everything," I return his deadpan from a few minutes ago, with a smile, of course.

He lets out a confused, soft laugh, eyes still on me. I reach across and grab his hand, rubbing soft circles on his palm with my thumb. Part of me wants to lay it all out. Come clean. Tell him everything. The real reason why I pushed him away was that the intelligent part of me knew I could never do that.

"I've given you every reason to hate me. I've given you every reason never to want to see or speak to me again. You tried so hard six years ago. You didn't want to give up on me. On us ." I signaled between us with my free hand, "I pushed you away when life got hard. I can't say how hard that decision was and has been for me and how much I've regretted it. I spent all these years telling myself it was for the best."

I finally look down at our intertwined hands, unable to keep his gaze. With my heart rate picking up its pace, I go on.

"I know any explanation I give now will sound like pathetic excuses—"

"No, it won't, Rosie. I promise," He cuts me off with a firm but gentle tone. My eyes flash to his just as he nods, signaling me to continue.

"You don't need me to tell you that since the day we met when we were kids, you've always been my person. Always. After incidents with Liam, I'd turn to you. When my parents were driving me up the wall with their blind eyes and constant fighting, you'd listen to my rants. When everything in my life would seem to explode around me, you were my safe place to land. My escape from reality. I've always been grateful that you effortlessly and graciously played that role in my life. I also wasn't blind to the fact that my life was never simple . Something was always going wrong. You were the only thing that ever felt right."

I let out a sigh and braced myself before hedging forward. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze of comfort. I could tell he was soaking in every word. Processing it all.

"After the accident, I wanted nothing but to turn to you—to lean on you like I always had—to feel your comfort. I knew," A lone tear fell from my eye and trickled down my cheek. His hand separated from mine and cupped my cheek, his thumb swiping my tears away. I lean my head into his warm, gentle touch and embrace the feel of his rough, calloused hand against my skin.

"I knew my life was changing in more ways than I could have fathomed. I was changing at the hands of grief. I knew you would drop everything for me . I couldn't let you. You deserved every ounce of happiness that you gave. I couldn't do that; everything in my life always went wrong. I had convinced myself that I was the black cloud. I felt that if I truly loved you, which I did, I would want you to be happy. I knew I wasn't capable of happiness at that time. I felt that if I loved you, I had to let you go."

By the time I finish, my heart is beating as loudly and hard as the drumbeat of an eighties metal band. My breath is rigid, and my hands begin to shake slightly. I feel naked, like I just laid it all out on the line and bared myself to him. Although I left out vital parts I knew I couldn't share with him, the feelings I'd just expressed were very much real.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while. His face danced with contemplation as he processed everything I had just thrown at him. After a beat, he scooted closer to me and reached for both of my hands, pulling me into him.

I take a moment to relish in his rough yet gentle touch coursing on my skin as the pad of his fingers runs up and down my arms.

"Hmm, I did always appreciate Kahlil Gibran's philosophy on that," he says curtly, with a smile and a soft chuckle.

Confusion crawls through my bones. I'm unsure how to read him at this moment.

Did my somewhat confession push him away at the exact time when I decided to let go of fear and attempt to give this a real shot? Did he finally realize that I am indeed a lost cause?

I pull back softly, letting our eyes meet only briefly. His eyes hold confidence. Whereas I'm sure I look like a damn deer in headlights.

" If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were."

Poetry. He's quoting fucking poetry right now. Of course, he is.

I silently repeat it back to myself.

If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were.

My eyes grow wide, and it's my turn to process what he's trying to say and where he is going with this.

"Rosie," his hand rests on my chin, and I tilt my head back up to face his while his thumb pads around in soft circles.

"Hmm," I hum breathlessly. Our faces are so close that I can almost taste him.

"You could push me away a million times," he pauses. "But, please don't," he lets out a small uncomfortable laugh before continuing, "I would still never give up hope. I may have tried to move on, but I never actually did. You've had my heart since before I knew what love even was. You came running in that field," he pointed to the window toward the field below us where we first met. "From that moment on, at eight years old, you captivated me. I have been entranced by you ever since. All of the ridiculous adventures you'd try to kill me with—"

I can't help but let out a laugh at that one.

"That's a bit dramatic." I attempt to sound serious but fail.

He arches his eyebrows at me as if saying 'you know it's true'. I giggle a little more. There was another short silence between us before he continued.

"The way you take in the world; How you've been given every reason under the sun to be a total pessimist, but somehow you're still able to see the good in the world— it radiates from you. It always has. It absolutely fascinates me. You fascinate me. I've spent my years trying to move on from you. I've even tried to forget you," he lets out a harsh fake laugh, "That was a huge joke."

His hands make their way up and cradle my face as he brings me in even closer to him, leaving no room for the air to pass between our bodies.

"You have always been and will always be the one for me. You are for me, just as I am for you. There's no amount of time in the world that could ever change that." He speaks with such confidence, and the rhythm of my heart goes hysterical as the heat between my legs is set ablaze.

I can't fight this anymore. I've spent, no, wasted, years of my life trying to avoid and forget the one man who's ever truly seen me —the man who ignites my soul.

Before I get a chance to think of the words I'd like to say, he dips his head down, and with a crashing force, he takes my mouth with his and my breath along with it. I waste no time deepening the kiss. My tongue slides past my lips and parts his. In return, he wastes no time pulling me on top of him until I'm straddling his lap. He runs one of his hands up and down my back as the other tugs forcefully through my hair.

Ander pulls back, releasing me from our kiss. My eyes stay closed for a second longer while I try to catch my breath. I could get lost in his taste for days. He pulls me close to him. After a while of comfortable silence, I rested my head on his chest as he combed his fingers through my hair.

"Is this the end of the adventure?" I ask softly into his chest, instantly regretting breaking the silence with that awkward question.

I can feel the rumble of his laugh through his chest as he leans down and kisses my forehead.

"No, Rosie, it's just the beginning."

I lean up and look into his eyes as I run a hand on the back of his neck. I can't stop—and don't want to—the smile spreading on my face.

"Oh yeah, is that so?"

He nods, causing me to smile bigger as I rest my forehead against his.