Josiah doesn’t bother answering me. At least not with words. He leans in, sealing his lips to mine, hand sliding onto the back of my neck. It’s beenyearssince I’ve felt his mouth pressed onto mine. Since I’ve tasted his sweet, sinister taste. But as he slips his tongue past my parted lips, rolling against my own, it’s like we’ve done this a million times. Like no time has passed.
Kissing Josiah feels so good. So right. It’s easy for me to get lost in him. I tilt my head, letting him take the kiss deeper. I want to live right here, in this moment, forever.
But I can’t.
After everything that happened, the history we have between us, there’s no way. So, even though it physically pains me to do so, I place my hand on his chest, pushing him away and severing the kiss.
“What are you doing?” he asks, eyes filled with confusion.
Instead of answering him, I turn back around, my heart in my throat, hands shaking, and grab a couple more candles before murmuring, “We need to get these lit.”
I shove past him, leaving the room, trying to ignore the taste of him still in my mouth. Ignoring the way every single part of me is begging to turn around and do it again. He doesn’t follow for a few moments, but eventually, I hear his footsteps along the hardwood floor behind me.
If I thought the tension was thick between us before, it’s got nothing on how stifling it is now. The silence between us is loud, and I can practically hear his thoughts from over here.
I set a candle on the kitchen counter, then one on the dining room table, and he places his in the living room. The fireplace is gas, so it’s still running, thankfully.
Reaching into my pocket, I grab my purple lighter, lighting my two candles as he does the same with his. All I want to do is go upstairs and hide out in my room, but I don’t for a reason even I don’t understand. Maybe because I’m a fucking glutton.
Taking a seat back in the living room, I glance over at Josiah, finding him already watching me.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“It’s fine.”It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all how much my body still reacts to yours all these years later.
Josiah looks over at me, his stormy gray eyes full of emotion I can’t handle right now. “I shouldn’t have kissed you, but I just—”
“I said it’s fine, Josiah. Drop it.”
He sighs, looking like he may actually listen to me for once. But of course, he doesn’t. “I’ve thought about you a lot over the years, you know.”
I laugh, the sound dry and lacking any humor as I rub my hand over my mouth, that admission hanging in the air like bait. “You know what, Josiah? I actuallydon’tknow. How could I?”
“That’s not fair, Segan,” he offers. “Our situation wasn’t exactly black and white back then, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care greatly for you and miss you when you left.”
“When I left?” He can’t be fucking serious. “You’re the one who left first, Josiah. You left for Nevada without so much as a second thought or a single care about how I felt. You left, Josiah. Not me. By the time I left Utah, you were long gone. You had a whole ass life for yourself in Nevada by the time I left. So, don’t even fucking tell me how much you missed me or how hard it was for you. You can fucking choke on your miss me bullshit.”
“Segan…”
“No,” I shout, standing from the couch. “Save it. I don’t fucking want to hear it.”
Not caring about beingrudeanymore, I jog up the stairs and head to my room. Thankfully, I have some candles in there because it’s nearly pitch-black outside, and even darker inside. All the memories from the night he broke me come rushing back, suffocating me, and I have to sit on the edge of my bed to catch my breath out of fear of my legs giving out on me.
25
JOSIAH
Today couldn’t be any worse. I shouldn’t have kissed him, butGod,the way he was looking at me, the air crackling around us, my body moved before my mind had a chance to talk myself out of it. I don’t regret it, though. Feeling his lips on mine again was like coming home.
It’s been about five minutes since Segan stormed off upstairs, and originally, I was going to give him his space. But I feel like there’s too much left unsaid between us, and if we’re going to be stuck in this house together with nothing else to do, we may as well hash it out.
I fucking hate the hurt in his tone when he yelled at me about leaving. It reminded me way too much of that night, so many years ago, when I looked him in the eye and told him I didn’t want him to come with me.
The biggest lie I’ve ever told to this day.
So, even though I have no clue where I’m going, and the house is damn near pitch black, I turn on my phone flashlight and head up the stairs. I’m assuming he went to his bedroom, but of course, I don’t know where that is.
I take a look in the first few I see; one’s a bathroom, the other a spare bedroom that doesn’t look like it’s ever been slept in. The third door down on the right-hand side is closed, and I think it may be the winner. For a moment, I worry he’s locked it, but when I twist the knob, it opens with a slight creak.
