Page 91 of Revel
His bloodshot reckless eyes don’t leave mine, still out of control and wild like his love. “I used you? Tell me why you came on this tour,” he demands.
He thinks I used him. “Why does that matter?” My hand sweeps over my tears, trying to breathe and focus.
“It matters,” he says, his voice sharper now. “Tell me the fucking truth. You didn’t have to. Why? Why did you want to go on this tour so badly? Why did you throw away everything—the perfect life—forthis?”
“I wanted something different. I didn’t know it, but I wanted you and what you showed me.” There it is. My truth. He can take it or leave it, or ignore it completely. Do you notice the quick gasps of air I’m taking in and the way I can’t seem to get enough of it? I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I’m sure of it. I’m going to die of hyperventilation. In the midst of all this, I choke on my tears, trying to clear my throat, and then give up and cry into my hands. I’m not even sure why I’m crying. My chest and lungs struggle to gain control.
He takes in my words, all of them. Our eyes stay connected until he breaks away. “Jesus.” Revel stands and presses his head into the doorframe of the bathroom, tightly gripping the back of his neck with both hands. The way his chest is heaving, I can tell he’s attempting to control his anger. His breath comes in short gasping spurts. “I fucking hate him. I hate him and her and all this goddamn bullshit!” He puts his hands on his hips, still facing the wall. His head dips forward and he turns toward me. “For the record, I never meant to hurt you.” His eyes slide to mine with what seems like disappointment. “I wanted . . . God . . . Red . . . .” He swallows, choking back tears, but it does nothing as they continue to fall. “It wasn’t because of him. It’s wasn’t because of her. Everything I said I felt for you was the truth.”
His words, the truth, it crashes over my soul, breaks my bones, and pollutes my blood. I reach for him. I can’t take it any longer. All anger and emotion aside, I want his touch. He holds me tighter, pulling himself to me while we cry, the two of us overwhelmed by the connection we can’t ignore. “I know it was.”
It’s late. We’re still in my hotel room. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to think, let alone leave this room. “Stay here with me tonight?” Revel asks, his face buried in my neck as we lie together.
I roll to my side on the bed, pushing away from him and sitting up. I look back at him then the clock, but I don’t say anything.
Turning me around, his hands frame my face, his eyes, bloodshot and pleading. He isn’t going to beg me to stay with him, given it’s my room, but deep down I know he will if I want him to. “I know I fucked up.”
I nod, focusing on his lashes and then deeper into his eyes, wanting to trust him.
His touch is heavy and slow. He lowers his mouth to my ear. “I love you,” he says. “Tell me this is okay.” His words are breathless against my skin.
My body tenses, not because of his touch, but his words. He’s so lost inside I’m not even sure he realizes this is the first time he’s said he loved me.
The sound of metal and leather unfastening brings me back to the moment, and I open my eyes to see him staring at me, begging for more. When I reach for him, he takes both my hands and holds my wrists together in one hand above my head near the headboard, gently this time. “Tell me to stop, tell me to leave, and I will,” he says through his teeth. “Tell me that you don’t love me.” His hips push forward, his heated stare on mine, burning me. “Fucking say it,” he growls, low and primal.
But I can’t. I won’t tell him a lie just because he doesn’t want to hear the words. He wants to remain unlovable. It’s safer there.
Reaching between our hips, he pushes his jeans lower with his right hand. My breath catches when he presses himself against me. I know sex isn’t the answer. We shouldn’t be doing this, but I crave the closeness, the reassurance that even if it’s just inside this room, we haven’t destroyed it all.
“Tell me,” he whispers, his face hidden in the crook of my neck.
I cry and stare at the cotton-white ceiling as I whisper, “I love you,” in his ear, knowing his reaction won’t be what I want.
“You shouldn’t.” His response is shaky, his body trembling above mine.
He’s gentle with me, and though it might be too late for us, he makes love to me for the first time, slowly pouring everything he hadn’t given me before into his movements. I know when I emerge from the haze of him, I’ll be left empty and undefined, barely recognizable.
He won’t fall.
Not at all.
Not ever a chance.
What a silly notion that would be.
But he does. He falls hard, and this time, I can’t catch him.
A RECKLESS MIND
REVEL
I’m out of my mind when it comes to her, and I don’t know what I’m doing. Remember when I told her,Don’t bite the apple, Red. Don’t do it?
She didn’t listen. Actually, let me rephrase that one.Wedidn’t fucking listen. And now the poison has taken over like a nasty infection. Me being the infection.
She hates me, or should, and that fear deep in her eyes, it wasn’t for me, but because of me and the alcohol in my veins. I purposely tried to push her away, and now look what I’ve done, made her unsure and scared.
Red’s lips part, her neck revealed for me. Her back arches, curling her fingers into the sheets. Her knees bend, her thighs squeezing me, begging me closer.
