“We barely know each other.”
“We don’t have to.” He places a warm palm on each of my cheeks. “If love was something tangible you could touch, or make reason of, it wouldn’t be something we all spend out entire lives in search of. We’d just go out and find it.” When I bow my head to divert my eyes, he meets me at my level and rests his head against mine. “It doesn’t work that way. I used to think it did. I used to think I could avoid it at any costs if I stuck with my fuck-and-run strategy.” His finger lifts me at my chin and I have no choice but to follow his eyes as they scan over me. “I was wrong. I know that now.” A sad, but full smile forms across his lips, exposing his white teeth. “Reason tells me I can’t love you, because I’ve only known you for a week. My heart knows otherwise. Tell me that you feel it too.”
“It’s complicated,” I say as quiet as a whisper.
“Then make it uncomplicated.”
“This isn’t easy for me.” I pull away from him and run the back of my palm against my pounding forehead. I’m trying to take everything in, but my brain is on the verge of exploding, to say nothing of my heart.
“Nothing worth fighting for is easy.”
“I love you,” I say it with conviction, with barren honesty. “There, I said it.”
“See? I guess some things are easy.” His accomplished smile is short-lived as he notices me wiping away an elusive stream of tears. “Why are you crying?”
“Allergies.” I laugh, but it’s empty. I force my eyes shut and feel his fingers wiping at my cheek.
“That’s funny. Are you allergic to love?”
“That’s to be determined.”
His deep, blue eyes are focused on me, and a blistering block of silence follows. We’re out of things to say, and I’m once again reminded he was right; silence is fucking beautiful.
But not as beautiful as his lips that are soon pressed to mine. Out here. In the middle of the street, where neither of us care any longer if someone sees us. He tastes like paradise, sun-kissed with the after burn of day-old whiskey.
When he kisses me, I forget about the rest of the world and all the complications. I forget about Brick and Cece. I forget this is just another game. He touches me all over, his hands sliding up the skin of my back.
It’s passionate, and I cherish this wrinkle in time. I’m breathless and fighting to breathe against his lips, but it’s the best kind of suffocating. With his tongue, he reaches deep into me and pulls everything to the surface.
I can love.
I do love.
It’ll never be enough.
Game.
Set.
Match.
All the pieces are in place. He’s fallen in love with me and all that’s left to do is break his heart.
All that’s left is a choice.
23
After he pulled away, I slung my bag over my shoulder and high-tailed my ass into the house. I’ve never thrown the door open and slammed it shut so fast. Safe from the view of the voyeuristic world, I break completely. Tears that are born from rage race down my cheeks. My chest heaves as I fight to breathe with the weight of the world’s cruelties sitting on my shoulders.
The house is dark, with no lights on and the curtains to the patio drawn shut. It’s the perfect opportunity to take off the mask I’ve been wearing, if only for a little while.
“What the fuck are you crying about?” Brick asks before I even realize he’s there. He’s perched in my throne, his arms carefully draped over the arms of the chair.
“The real question is what the fuck are you doing in my house?” I run both hands over my face in an attempt to cover up the evidence I was crying, knowing full well he saw me with his own eyes.
“You’re in love with him,” he accuses in a grave tone, built of contempt and control. “Talk about fucking pathetic.”
“I’m not,” I say through gritted teeth.
He doesn’t believe me, and continues to taunt me. “He takes you away for a weekend, and you can’t scramble over your own feet fast enough to suck his dick and promise him your eternal love.”
“You don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” I push my feet hard against the wood floors, searching for the strength to do battle with Brick when all I want is to curl up in bed and cry.
“Let me school you on something, Apple.” He crosses one leg over the other. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
“You don’t know shit.”
“I know you were crying, and I’m guessing it wasn’t because momma hasn’t called lately.”
This behavior isn’t new to me. He shows his true colors under two circumstances. The first is when I grow close to a man—and that’s not often. I can count them all on one hand: Mason, Brick, the quarterback and now, Jensen. The second is when he’s terrified he’s going to lose a bet, and there have been plenty of bets, even if he’s never actually been close to losing. This would be the first. I’m too eager to forget the devil that hides underneath his charisma, and like the best colognes, he wears his charisma in spades.
“Do you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?” I ask and approach him from the front. “It must get old drowning in the same shit.”
“Honey, I’m fine with my station in life.” He throws his arms to the sides, creating a visual of the world in his hands. “I have everything I could ever want.”
“Everything but me. It kills you that you can’t have me.”
He rolls his eyes, but we both know he’s doing nothing but denying the truth. “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
“Why don’t we talk about Tyra?” I stampede toward him and cower over his body as I rest my hands on the arms of the chair. His face tightens and contorts, his lips pressing tight together. “What’s wrong? Is it a sore subject?”
“The only thing that’s going to be sore is her virgin pussy.” He meets me halfway, pressing his face against mine while wearing a devious and crooked smile.
“Keep dreaming.” I push him backward into the chair. “The closest you’ll ever get to her is the thought of her naked as you jerk yourself raw in the shower. That’s where all this bitterness is coming from, right? It’s occurred to you that you’re actually going to lose.”
“I’d rather beat myself raw in the shower than face your current predicament.”
“And what is that?”
“I told you.” He raises his hand to my cheek and caresses it lovingly. “You’re in love.”
“Even if that were true, it wouldn’t change a thing.”
“It changes everything. It changes how I see you.” He pushes me away and rises to his feet, like a king stepping off his throne. “You’re not as strong as I believed you to be. In fact, you’re so weak that I don’t know if I can continue this charade with you. You’re in no better shape than when I found you. A fucking pity when I consider all the hard work I put into you.”
“Thank you, Brick.” It comes out lower than a whisper, and I’d be surprised if he could hear me.
“For saving you? For talking you from the ledge?” He passes me and swipes his car keys off the coffee table. “Come on, what are you thanking me for?”
“I believed I didn’t have a choice until I walked in that door. I wanted to beat you so bad that I was willing to do whatever it took.” I grab him at the crook of his elbow and glare into his emerald eyes. “I’m going to tell him everything.”
“You’ll lose him, but I imagine he won’t give you the time of day and his heart will end up broken anyway.” He takes glee in the way the words roll off his tongue. “You’ll lose, but you might still win yet.” He begins a slow clap with his hands. “Bravo, Apple. You’re a fucking star.”
“You’re graduating in a few months. I think it’s time to grow up,” I bark at him and tug him toward the front door.
“I grew up a long time ago, Apple. I think the word you’re looking for is change.” His palm flirts with the knob of the door before swinging it open. “Unfortunately for you, I have no interest in change.”