Page 41 of Crash Over Us
I closed my eyes. This was going sideways faster than I could have expected. “It’s not. No, that’s not what I mean.” I softened my voice. “It’s never been a problem. I think I want a little time to think tonight. And it’s not to make things worse. I’m a mess right now all of a sudden.”
“All right. I’ll head back to base, I guess. Text me tomorrow. Some time,” he added.
He put the truck in reverse. “Caleb?”
He didn’t wait around. He backed out of the gravel lot and began to drive away. I hung my head. What had I just done? I saw the taillights fade as he rounded the corner.
I turned to stick my key in the lock when the crunch of tires over gravel became louder not softer. I spun around. Caleb was driving right back toward me.
TWENTY-ONE
Margot
He slid the truck into park and slammed the door. I saw the cloud of dust billow around the headlights before they automatically shut off. I didn’t know what was coming next, but I didn’t expect him to look angry when he stormed toward me. He had every right to be. I had pushed him away from me.
There was something fierce and confident in how he climbed the stairs. How his body took up all the oxygen on the porch, even though we were standing outside.
“We aren’t doing this,” he growled. His jaw clenched.
“Doing what?” I eked.
“We promised each other. You promised me. I’m not sleeping anywhere other than next to you.”
I felt the way my fingers tingled as if my hands had fallen asleep and were now suddenly awake. They pulsed just like the rest of my body. His words lodged under my ribs and strapped themselves around my heart.
“I’m not getting back in that truck. I’m not driving away from you. We don’t have to talk out every single detail, but I’m not leaving you.”
My head moved up and down. I heard him. My entire body heard him. This was what it meant when someone kept their promises. When they showed up. When they didn’t leave just because I couldn’t handle a hard night or a rough thought.
“I don’t want to keep pushing you away,” I whispered. “I don’t want to, it just happens and then...” I looked up at him. His hands slid to the sides of my face.
“Because you’re fucking scared. I don’t think you know any other way to be. Yet,” he added.
“So why do you keep coming back?” It was possibly the scariest question I had ever asked him.
The pad of his thumb brushed against my cheekbone. I leaned into the warmth of his palm. It didn’t erase the fear, but it eased the pain. He always did.
“How do I not come back?” There was an edge of anguish in his voice. Had I done that to him? Seven years ago. Now. All of it was tied into the story of us.
“I’m scared you’ll give up on me.” I gulped. It was honest. The full truth, laid bare here on the tiny stoop of the cottage.
“You know when I was rolling down the drive away from you, I had to force myself to keep my boot on the accelerator. And then I asked myself why I was doing that. If it was that hard to keep my foot on the gas. I had to think about it. Force it. Why was I doing it when all I wanted was to turn around? I’d rather fight all night. Sleep on the couch. Hold you. Whatever it is we do, I’d do any of it but leave you again, Margot.”
“Then don’t.” I blinked a couple of tears away as his mouth found mine.
It wasn’t a rough or punishing kiss. It was laced with gentle strokes of his tongue. A way to bind our breath together with forgiveness and understanding. He knew I was messy and afraid. He knew I had been abandoned over and over in my life. Sticking to one person was terrifying, even though he was the one I wanted.
I never doubted that Caleb was where my heart was. I realized tonight when Jacob droned on about the different stations and orders that Caleb could leave. That fear had struck so deeply. Wounded me to my core. It was as violent a realization that he could have been killed the other night from the attack on the ocean.
His hands moved through my hair, tilting my mouth upward. His tongue thrashed deeper and with more hunger.
“Let’s go in,” he suggested. “Or are you going to make me sleep on the couch?”
I smiled, my eyes darting to the concrete where a tiny treefrog had taken refuge for the night.
“No, I don’t think that was the best idea.” I threaded my fingers through his and led him inside.
* * *
