“And I’m keeping that promise.” His face is pinched with the effort of it, his voice raw. “It’s just, being with you today, I...Didn’t you feel it? Didn’t you feel anything?”
My palms press into the wall behind me, scrambling for an escape hatch. He’s so close. I can never think straight when he’s this close.
“You’re just...You’re just remembering how things have been before...The good times...”
He leans in, refusing to let me drop his gaze.
“Thebesttimes, Roxanne. The best fucking times of my life.”
It’s like I can breathe his air. I can feel him already. He hasn’t even touched me, and I cantastehim already, but his words strike something inside me, a wrong note that rings out loud enough to call my head up above the water.
“The best times?” I repeat, my tone harsh. I have to be harsh, or this won’t get through to either of us. “When exactly were the best times of your life, Cole? Because I look at you, and I just...Tabarnak, I just see your face when they all left you. I just see the way we fight. I make you so angry Cole, and you hate being angry. That is the last position I want to put you in, but fuck, it’s what I always do. I...I make people do things they don’t want to do.”
Pain flashes across his features before it quickly morphs into a determined kind of fury. He’s close enough now that the front of his thighs press into mine, one hand reaching to grip the bathroom counter beside me so hard his knuckles go pale.
“Stop,” he orders, the word quiet but somehow still thunderous. “That. Is. Bullshit. That is suchbullshit.”
He closes his eyes and pulls a breath in through his nose. I hate that I do this to him. Cole is maybe the best and most courageous person I’ve ever met. I’ve only ever seen goodness in him, but he believes he has a darkness inside that he’s always in danger of letting it out. He’s wrong. He couldn’t be more wrong, but he still forces himself to shut down before he can let out the things he needs to say, the things other people need to hear.
I watch him struggle to swallow the emotions before they get too strong, and he just looks so damnalonethat I can’t help it. I raise my hand up to cup his face.
“Look at you,” I whisper, as my palm curves around the jaw I’ve traced so many times. “You’re shaking.”
His shoulders are trembling ever so slightly, strained against the effort of holding himself together because he’s scared of what he’ll shatter if he ever falls apart. His breathing gets ragged as my thumb strokes his cheek.
I should let go, but we’re caught here. We’re trapped.
He leans into my touch, and his next words almost split me open.
“Don’t leave.” His voice is fervent, like a prayer. “However this ends, just don’t leave. Not again.”
And if I stay?I want to ask him.What then?
This story has already played out. We know what happens if I stay. We’re never happy. We’re never happy enough to justify the cost of being with each other. He gave up so much for me, and I feel the weight of it every time we fight. Sometimes I think it might even be thereasonwe fight.
I just want to see him in as little pain as possible. I just want to figure out how to hurt him the least, and right now, I know he needs me. Just like he said, however this ends, right now he needs me here.
My arms wrap themselves around his neck, and I pull him as close as I can. We both breathe deep as our chests press up against each other. His hands grip my waist, squeezing hard like he can pin me here, like I’ll float away if he doesn’t hold me down.
For a few moments, we just stay like that, until the rush of memories brought on by the contact becomes too much to ignore. I feel that old heat start to boil in my veins. The fabric of my romper is gathered beneath Cole’s hands. His hips flex just slightly enough for me to feel the pressure against my own. My face is pressed to his t-shirt, and I can feel his lips travelling over my hair.
“Roxanne...” he murmurs, and I know I’m lost. I can never say no to this. We can’t stop once we start.
My legs part enough for him to move between them as I hook one up around his hip. He drops a hand to hold my thigh there just as my head tips back so I can face him.
Those eyes. Just like the first time I ever looked into them, I’m suddenly lost and found all at once.
I’m going to kiss him. It’s inevitable. We’re inevitable.
My mouth is just about to meet with his when he grips my chin and tilts it away.
“No.”
It takes me a moment to process what just happened.
“No?” I stupidly repeat.
His fingers still hold me in place, like he can’t bear to let me go even as he turns me away.
