Текст книги "Lies Unspoken "

Автор книги: Lisa DeJong

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Is your heart beating for me?” His fingers curl around my wrist, bringing my hand to his bare chest. His heart pounds against my palm. “Feel that? Do you feel what happens to me when I’m touching you?”

I’m hanging onto every word, inhaling and letting every one hit me with more sexual potency than the last. He’s wound me up so tight . . . he just needs to let me go. “Touch me, Blake.” My voice is desperate. There’s no hiding it.

“Where, baby? Show me where.” His voice is strained, husky, making me want him even more.

I remove his palm from my chest, utilizing the wet paint to slide it down between my legs. “Here,” I murmur.

He curls his fingers into me through the lacy material. It’s exactly what I wanted . . . what I needed. Then he suddenly pulls away, and I can’t help but open my eyes. Plastic crinkles under his feet as he picks up a white cloth to wipe his colorful fingers with. I fight the urge to scream out, to beg and plead for the feel of his skin on mine.

I hold back, rubbing my thighs together to sooth the ache.

As his eyes drink me in, the cloth falls from his hand. He steps closer, his shoulder brushing against me. My heart hammers, waiting. His soft lips tickle my ear, warm breath hitting me before words ever do. “Like this?” he asks, circling my swollen flesh with his fingertips. “Or did you want something more like this?” he adds, pushing my panties aside and inserting one of his long fingers inside of me.

The moans I’ve been holding in refuse to stay caged any longer. I close my eyes so all I can do is feel. He has me—inside and outside—I’m his. He adds another long finger, moving in and out of me while his thumb circles my clit. I just feel—the friction, the tension. Touch blacks out every other sense, and I come hard around his fingers.

He groans then kisses me hard, pulling me against him. His tongue presses between the seam of my lips, tangling with mine. It’s different than the ones we’ve shared in the past—full of its usual passion but also wrapped in undeniable want. He punctuates it by lightly kissing each corner of my mouth, even the tip of my nose.

As he pulls away, I dare to open my eyes, wanting to see him and what he’s created on my skin. He’s only inches from me, watching me adjust to the light.

“And those are my new favorite part . . . your eyes. If you could see them right now . . . the sated, content look of them, you’d never doubt how sexy you are.”

I stare, slowly believing every word because the same look he described is mirrored in his eyes. Somewhere along the way, I let him crawl into my heart. That was the easy part . . . letting him out, that’s not going to be so easy.

MY ALARM SOUNDS TOO SOON. If I count the time I spent tossing and turning in my bed after Blake and I finally got home this morning, I maybe had five hours of sleep. Every lost minute was worth it when I replay the events of last night. What he made me feel. What he made me see without even looking. Being with Blake is like dreaming while awake. I want to stay locked in those moments—the ones where his touch makes me forget everything else—forever.

I want more than what he’s given me. I want to know his history . . . all of it. I want so badly to know what goes through that head of his. I want everything . . . everything I know he’s not ready to give. Or, maybe it’s everything I’m too afraid to ask for.

After Blake took time to wipe the paint from my skin, he’d shown me a few of his favorite paintings. I saw them differently—more vibrant, full of color. Maybe it was because of the new way I viewed paint or the rasp in his voice while he spoke.

Behind the walls, he’s thoughtful, intelligent and kind-hearted. I want to know what made him construct them in the first place. Why does he guard himself? Why does he push people away?

I thought about it a lot while he drove us home. The sun was rising on the horizon—a perfect cap to a perfect night. I pictured us, what we could be like if it was always like that. If he always made me feel that way. But like most good things, it couldn’t last forever. We were both quiet when we entered the apartment, our eyes saying a silent good night. Maybe that’s how it had to be. Things went too far. I’d felt too much.

Now, as I stretch my arms up, my thoughts flicker between that and what’s in store for me tonight. If I’d met this Blake before Pierce asked me to accompany him to the benefit, I don’t think I could have said yes. It feels wrong, even if there’s nothing wrong about it.

My stomach growls as I roll off the mattress. It’s been hours since I’ve eaten anything. If I’m going to spend hours getting myself beautified, I’m going to feed the monster in my stomach. I tiredly make my way to the bathroom and splash some cold water over my face, trying to salvage whatever I can of my youthful appearance. I smooth over my gray cami and pull my hair up in a tight knot. Hopefully Dana will be able to make something out of my zombie self when she gets here. I need her to bring a magic wand to banish my dark circles and ashen skin. Cucumbers, cold spoons . . . anything.

As soon as I open the door to my bedroom, I see Blake sitting at the kitchen table with a full bowl of cereal in front of him. From this angle, he looks reflective, focused on the little o-shaped grains. His hair is tousled. Muscled arms showcased by the way his elbows rest on the table. It brings back memories of last night.

“What? No eggs today?” I ask, sneaking up behind him.

He turns to face me, a cocky half-grin playing on his lips. “I thought I’d follow the rules.”

“My birthday isn’t until summer, so what’s the occasion?” I tease, stepping closer.

He shrugs. “You followed my rules last night. It’s only fair.”

“That I did.” I smile just thinking about his hands on my skin. I grab a bowl from the cabinet and sit next to him, helping myself to some of the cereal.

He watches me between bites, clinking his spoon against the bottom of his bowl. “Did I say you could have some of my Fruit Loops?”

“Umm—”

“Relax,” he says, covering my lips with his fingertip.

I close my eyes and let my mouth curve into a smile again. “I knew you were teasing.”

“No, you didn’t.”

There’s something different about him this morning—more playful, light. He reaches out for my wrist, pulling me into his lap. He holds me close to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. It’s something Derek used to do when things were good, before success and time got in our way. It gives me hope that there might me more to this than mind-numbing sex.

“Do you have plans this afternoon?” he asks, kissing the back of my neck. His question wakes me from the moment, reminding me that there’s someone else who will be expecting me tonight.

“Blake, there’s something I need to tell you,” I confess, closing my eyes to brace myself for what may come. Maybe this will go over better than I think, but it could also go terribly wrong. I’ve put myself in his shoes, and I know that the female jealousy within me would be boiling over. The thought of anyone touching him, in any way, makes me bat shit crazy.

He pauses for a second then continues kissing me. “I’m listening.”

How am I supposed to tell him that my hot, powerful, extremely successful boss is taking me out tonight with his mouth assaulting my skin like this? Things with Blake start to feel less and less like a benefits-only relationship and more and more like the semblance of a real relationship when he does this. It’s in the way he kisses me. The way he looks at me—like he was last night when I finally opened my eyes. It’s in the little ways he’s changed over the last couple weeks.

If he asks me not to go, if he tells me this thing between us means something, I won’t go. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with Pierce if I knew it bothered Blake. If I knew there was a chance for us.

“I was invited to attend a benefit tonight . . . for work.” Watching him, I don’t see any reaction, but that’s not the part that’s going to bother him.

“Not working at Charlie’s?” he murmurs between showering my neck with kisses.

“No, I took the night off.” I stop, tilting my head to give him better access. “Someone invited me to, umm, go.” That stills him immediately.

His head comes up, his eyes cold—like they were when I first met him. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares. If I could take those words back, put this whole scene on rewind, I would.

“When he asked, I said yes because there really wasn’t any reason to say no.”

He loosens his arms but doesn’t completely pull them away from me. My whole world spins waiting for him to say something. This was a mistake; I feel it already.

“What do you mean when you say you’re going with him?” he finally asks. He’s got the same angry edge to his voice he had the night I left him in the bar. This time, there are more feelings to be destroyed.

I swallow the giant lump wedged in my throat. “I’m going to get dressed up, and he’s going to pick me up. We’re going to the event, and then he’ll bring me back home.”

“Are you going to fuck him?” The edge in his voice and harshness of his words propel me forward, wanting to be out of his arms.

“I’m not like that,” I seethe, quickly standing from his lap.

“Really?” he shouts. “What are we doing then? We’re fucking, and, from what I remember, it wasn’t that hard to get you under me.”

My blood boils. “Do you think I just fuck any guy who comes my way?” I pause, wrapping my hands into tight fists at my side to keep from hitting him. “That’s the problem with this whole stupid arrangement. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

He dares to come closer. “I’ve memorized every fucking inch of your body, and that’s all I need to know for what we have.”

My fingernails dig into my skin. I can’t take it anymore. The way he looks at me like I’m nothing. With nothing else to add, I stalk back to my bedroom, throwing the door open with enough force to send it into the wall. I need to put space between us.

“Lila, I’m not done with you!” he yells.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize we even started,” I remark, not bothering to look back. Without warning, his body is flush against mine, pushing us both forward.

When we reach the wall on the opposite side of the room, he spins me around and pins my arms above my head. He’s pissed, and I only have myself to thank for that. “Do you feel that?” he asks, grinding his hard cock against my stomach. “That’s what you do to me.”

Tears pool in my eyes. I gaze up at the ceiling, begging them not to fall. “I need more than that, Blake. I can’t keep doing this.”

“What do you want from me?”

“If you ask me to stay, I’ll stay, but don’t do it just because you want to fuck me. Or because you don’t want anyone else to have me.” Just voicing the last part makes me question how exactly I got here.

“I’ve given you everything I promised.”

I wiggle against him, but it’s no use. He’s too strong, too determined. “What if I told you I’m falling?”

“You don’t mean it.”

My chest heaves against his. Hearts beat fast. “Yes, I do.”

“Shit,” he mumbles, letting go of me.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen!”

“You didn’t stop it either.” He starts walking away, his hair gripped in his long fingers. A fool could see he’s struggling against himself. I follow behind him, practically falling into his back when he halts suddenly. “Don’t,” he warns.

“I’m going. Unless you ask me to stay . . . unless you can promise me more, I’m going.”

He smiles sadistically, lifting my chin to gain better access to my lips. He kisses me once, hungrily, darting his tongue between my lips just long enough to get a little taste. My mind races with the possibilities; they’re all I have left. “Don’t you dare forget that when you’re out with your date tonight.”

Without another word, he pulls away, heading straight out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. If he’s jealous, it doesn’t have the effect that Dana said it would.

He didn’t ask me to stay.

He didn’t beg me not to go.

I thought what we have might mean something more to him, like it does for me.

I think every girl hopes she’ll get her chance to tame a bad boy, to bring a soulless creature out of the darkness, but Blake isn’t my salvation. There’s not a part of him that’s mine . . . there never was.

I sink back down into my chair and cross my arms on the table. I stare . . . forever, thinking about what I should do next, what this means.

Butterflies multiply in my stomach as the hours tick by. Time brings me closer to Pierce and further from Blake.

He’s been gone a couple hours . . . since we had our argument this morning. What if he disappears again? And when he comes back, will we go back to being enemies under the same roof?

I don’t want that. I just want to be us. Kisses. Painting. Lemon drops.

I think about him constantly. The fact that this might all be over before it even really started is hard to swallow. I can’t live with what could have been; I’d promised myself I would stop doing that the minute I stepped on the plane. He’s just so hard to let go.

I’m lost in my wakeful nightmare when a knock sounds at my door.

When I’d told Dana about the invite, she’d offered to come over and help me with my hair and make-up. There was no way I was going to decline because getting all that done in Chicago would have cost a small fortune. And there was no way in hell I was going to use Pierce’s credit card.

I fake a smile and open the door. “Hey.” My eyes immediately focus on the small suitcase she lugs with her. “Did you bring the whole bathroom?”

“Almost,” she replies, rolling it in front of her. “Take this. I’m going to grab the dress from my car.”

I grab the handle from between her fingers and watch as she retreats down the narrow hallway. “Need any help?”

“Got it!” she yells back.

The suitcase must weigh at least twenty pounds, which scares the hell out of me. What could she possibly put on me that weighs this much? Twelve pairs of shoes? Eight curling irons? Four cases of make-up?

After rolling it to my room, I go back to the door to wait for her. She mentioned this dress she has for me—something she wore to an event a couple years back. This event is a big deal . . . for my career, for my future. And if Pierce Stanley is going, it’s a big deal in general—a who’s who of the Chicago scene. I’m trying to be excited. If for nothing else, what it could do for my career.

“No wonder you stay so skinny,” Dana grumbles as she makes it up to the top of the stairs.

“I usually make it in one trip.”

“Shut it. I brought my whole vanity because I didn’t want to regret leaving anything behind. It’s not often a girl gets her chance to be a stylist.”

My eyes dart to the white garment bag she has wrapped over her forearm. She wouldn’t give me much detail on the dress, and it’s been killing me.

“Do I get to see it now?” I ask, clapping my hands together.

She stops just far enough away that I can’t reach her, or the dress. “Hair and make-up first. Then the dress.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry but I can’t be your friend anymore.”

“This isn’t the third grade, Lila,” she remarks as she walks past me into the apartment. It’s impossible to even see the color of the dress through the bag.

“Oh, come on. It better not be pink, especially hot pink, because that looks hideous against my red hair.” I close the door and follow behind her into my bedroom. I’ve already showered, shaved, and moisturized per my stylist’s instructions, but all of this is making my stomach hurt. The closer we get to seven, the harder it is to keep my nerves in check. It all weighs too heavy—talking to people I don’t know, being the girl next to Pierce, wondering where Blake is.

“If you sit still long enough for me to turn you into a glam queen, I promise to show you.”

“Let’s get this over with,” I say, leading the way to the bathroom. It’s not very big, but there is a vanity chair slid under the sink, giving her free reign on her blank canvas.

“This is going to be so fun!”

I can’t match her enthusiasm. No matter what I’m saying or what I’m trying to concentrate on, Blake’s there. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I’ve been waiting for him to come through the door and tell me not to go. That maybe time would put things into perspective for him.

With only a few hours until Pierce picks me up, it hasn’t happened yet. I’m tired of fighting for something that doesn’t want to be fought over.

Dana sprays sections of my hair, letting it all fall over my eyes. “I’m going to curl your hair first, then we’ll do your make-up so it’s fresh.”

Closing my eyes, I attempt to fall back into better times. I try to imagine what the venue looks like. I’ve been to big weddings, but I have a feeling this will top all of them.

“Are you okay? You’re kind of quiet.” I didn’t think it would take her long to notice. I’m not the definition of a social butterfly, but I usually have something to say when it’s just the two of us.

“It’s been a rough day,” I reply simply. I want to keep what happened at the studio between Blake and me. I definitely can’t explain what happened between us at breakfast without letting her in on my growing feelings for him.

“Where’s Blake?” She can’t be that perceptive.

“He left earlier.”

“Oh,” she says, “I take it the plan to make him jealous didn’t really work?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Sorry.” She picks up yet another section, wrapping it around the iron. “Maybe, you’re just not meant to be.”

Maybe we’re not.

WHEN PREPARATIONS ARE DONE, I spin in front of the full-length mirror. The long, dark green dress Dana loaned me contrasts beautifully with my red locks. The form-fitting skirt and open back give it a sexy touch—not too much but just enough.

“Do you feel okay?” Dana asks¸ smoothing the edges of the sleeveless top.

“I’m just nervous. It feels like prom all over again, but even then, I was with someone I knew. What am I supposed to talk about all night?”

She pulls some of my curled locks over my shoulder. “He’s successful in the design industry. Maybe you can talk about that. Have him give you some tips for your career.”

“I’m sure he didn’t invite me with him just to talk about work.” I pause, deciding just how much I should tell her about Pierce Stanley. If I let her stay until he arrives, he won’t need any explaining. “Most women find him charming. If I don’t keep him occupied, someone else will.”

“Does it matter?” she asks, taking one last look at me.

I shrug. “I honestly don’t know what matters anymore.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Blake?”

I shake my head. If I don’t say it out loud, maybe it will just go away like it never even happened at all. I want to think he’ll be here waiting when I get home tonight. He’ll be leaning against the counter, just like always. He’ll take me to his bed, making sure he’s all I think about. He won’t hold me afterward . . . he never does, but I’ll leave knowing it will happen again.

I want the certainty that’s missing right now.

“It’s almost seven so I should probably get out of here before your date arrives.” Through the mirror, I see her wince. “I mean, boss. Are you all set? Need more lipstick?”

“I think I’m good on the lipstick.” I wasn’t sure about the red at first; I thought I’d look like a glorified human Christmas tree with my green dress and red hair, but it pulls it all together.

She brings me in for a hug, careful not to flatten my curled hair. “If you need anything, just call. I have to work, but that doesn’t mean I won’t bail you out if you need it.”

“I’ll be okay. Thanks for pulling double duty tonight.”

She steps back, surveying me one more time. “No big deal. Double tips for me.” She winks, and then picks her stuff up from my bed. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all about it.”

“I hope I want to talk about it.”

“You’ll be fine.” As she walks toward the apartment door, I follow. I need all the practice I can get in these stupid heels. “Oh, that reminds me,” she says as she turns the knob. “Did you run a background check on him?”

The door opens, and before I can respond, Pierce’s grinning form is standing in front of me. He’s a vision in a black tux, that’s for sure.

“Google should cover the background check if you’d like me to wait out here.” His dark eyes dance between Dana and me.

I sneak a quick look at Dana whose mouth hangs wide open, her eyes drinking in Pierce’s perfect physique. I should snap her lips closed and push her out the door, but I don’t blame her one bit.

His tux is complete with a black tie and crisp white shirt. His hair is styled, spiked up toward the front. Not only could he walk a red carpet, he’d own it. All sets of eyes, male or female, would be on him.

“Dana, this is Pierce. Pierce, this is Dana.” I introduce them, hoping to break through the awkward silence we’ve all fallen into.

Pierce holds his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Dana.”

I wonder if she’s screaming internally at the sound of her name coming from his lips. I know I did the first time.

She places her hand in his. He practically swallows her small hand up. “Nice to, umm, meet you, too.” I guess she stutters now.

“You’re early,” I announce, pulling Pierce’s attention back to me.

“Far better than late,” he quips, tucking his hands into his pants pockets. I don’t miss how they strain across his hips. He’s pretty, there’s no arguing that.

“I’m actually running late for work,” Dana says, squeezing my arm before pushing through the doorway. “You guys have fun tonight.”

“Thanks for everything, Dana!” I shout behind her. I watch her walk away until she disappears down the stairs. It gives me an excuse not to look at Pierce.

“I think she’s gone now,” he remarks, forcing my eyes back to him. He’s obviously amused—head cocked, lower lip pulled between his teeth.

“Sorry,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I quickly pull it back out, not wanting to ruin my beach-like waves.

He raises his eyebrows as he glances down the vacant hallway, then back to me. “Ready? My car’s waiting downstairs.”

“Yeah, let me grab my jacket. Do you want to come in?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Pulling the door all the way open, I give him the space to step into my territory. The apartment isn’t much. We have a futon as our only piece of living room furniture for God’s sake. His master bedroom is probably bigger than this entire place.

“You can have a seat if you want. I’ll only be a minute.”

I turn to walk away but he grabs my elbow, stopping me in place. Fear courses through my veins, not of him, but of what he does to me when we’re this close. He steps closer until I can feel the heat coming off his body. My eyes dart around the room. My mind wanders to all the possibilities of this.

“You look gorgeous,” he says from behind me.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He runs his hand down my forearm, slowly releasing me. “You like the tux?”

“No,” I answer, spinning back around to face him. I tug on his tie. “I love the tux.”

He grins . . . in a way that’s bound to get me in a whole lot of trouble. The kind that reminds me why this might not be a good idea.

“I’ll be right back.” I disappear behind my bedroom door, inhaling the air needed to fill my lungs, then repeating until I feel like I have enough control to be in his presence again. He unnerves me in ways I can’t describe, and he’s too perceptive for me to let him see me this way.

After grabbing my long black coat from the closet, I swallow the last of my anxieties and walk out to the living room where he stands peering out the lone window. He defines power—perfect posture, broad shoulders and taut muscles. The man has everything going for him from what I can see. He’s just not Blake.

“Ready?” I ask, careful not to scare him.

He looks back, eyes surveying me. “Just waiting on my beautiful date.”

I open my mouth to argue, but pull myself back. He probably didn’t mean it in the way it sounded. “Let’s get out of here then. I didn’t get all dressed up for nothing.”

He laughs, deep and throaty. “That makes two of us.”

I pick up my clutch from the table and head toward the door, opening it for him. He comes to stand next to me but doesn’t exit. “This is the only door I’m going to let you open tonight.”

I glance down, running the toe of my heels against the hardwood floors. This guy is a complete gentleman. I should be swooning, picturing myself as his better half. Dreaming of it at night and falling at his feet during the day to make it happen.

It may be the biggest mistake of my life—clinging to a guy who’ll never truly let me in when the epitome of male perfection is standing right in front of me.

When I come back to, he’s standing out in the hallway looking down at me with his eyebrows drawn in. “You all right?”

“Yes, sorry,” I reply, shaking my head. “I probably should have slept more last night.”

He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, pulling the door shut behind me. His fingers are warm, entwining with mine. It’s intimate but doesn’t push me too far from my comfort zone. As we walk down the long, narrow hall, I keep my head down, afraid that my heels will catch and I’ll go tumbling across the old, worn carpet.

If I let it, tonight could be fun. If only it were that easy.

Pierce stops suddenly, yanking me back with him. I look up at him, confused, and notice his fiery eyes staring forward. Curious, I follow them, and in that one moment, my whole world spins.

“What are you doing here?” Pierce asks, gripping my hand a little tighter.

“I fucking live here,” Blake answers. His words are meant for Pierce, but he’s staring straight at me. The pain and confusion that emit from his eyes don’t go unnoticed.

“Do you know each other?” My voice is so timid, I’m not sure if my words even registered with them.

“You could say that,” Pierce says. He lets go of my hand, moving it to the small of my back. “How do you know him?”

I swallow, attempting to bury the weariness in my voice. “He’s my roommate.”

Blake laughs maniacally, rubbing the back of his neck. “Roommates? That’s fucking great.”

Now I’m mad. Pissed. Frustrated. Resentful. I’m a big fucking ball of destruction that wants to roll toward Blake and make him feel every ounce of what I’m feeling. “We talked about this earlier. Remember?”

I sense Pierce’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look. I could have gone a hundred life times without this moment.

Pierce’s hand squeezes mine again, lightly tugging me forward. “Let’s get out of here. I think we both know this asshole isn’t worth our time.”

“Take your hands off her!” Blake yells. I don’t get this. He knew I had plans tonight. I was upfront with everything, but obviously there’s something between these two that I’m completely oblivious to. A game changer.

“Pierce,” I say quietly, placing my hand on his forearm. “Can you wait outside? I’ll take care of this.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Yes, you are, or you can go ahead and leave without me.”

Pierce obviously isn’t used to being ordered around. He releases my hand and comes to stand in front of me. The carefree, sexy smile he wore earlier is long gone. “Lila, what is this?” he whispers so only I can hear.

“Please, wait outside. I’ll explain later.”

He nods, brushing my hair off my forehead. “If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m going to come looking for you. I don’t trust this asshole.”

“I’m a big girl.”

He shakes his head at me before walking away. I don’t miss how he bumps his shoulder against Blake’s as he walks by. Or the way Blake looks at him with venom in his eyes. It’s as if I’m witnessing the final seconds before a MMA fight.

Just when I’m about to step between them, Pierce breaks away and continues down the hall. I inhale a deep breath, relieved that whatever that was is over . . . at least for now.

Blake stands with his hands on his hips, staring up at the stained, white ceilings. He seems unapproachable—anger rolling off him in epic proportions.

“How do you know Pierce?” I ask, not waiting for him to look back down.

“I just do,” he replies, eyes roaming the walls. He’s trying hard to see anything but me. I don’t like it.

“Will you at least tell me what that was all about?”

He shakes his head. There’s not a sound. Not a whisper or an audible breath. Nothing.

There’s nothing else I can do here . . . nothing else to say. I swallow my foolish dreams and start past him . . . to find Pierce before this day lets me down any more than it already has.

I’ve tried hard not to be a naïve woman—not to put myself in situations where my heart will be broken—but that’s all I seem to accomplish. Just when I feel like my life’s going somewhere, I’m pushed back on my ass.

“Don’t go,” he says quietly as I walk past.

I stop, glancing toward him. His eyes finally meet mine, glossed over from too much alcohol or not enough sleep. Or both. “Then tell me to stay. Tell me you’re ready to give me more.”

When he breaks eye contact again, I know the answer. He doesn’t want to see my heart shatter and fall to little pieces on the old, worn carpet. “You already know what I can give you.”

I nod once, glancing at his broken profile one last time. When I walk out the door, that’s going to be it. He’s going to know I made my choice just as he did a few seconds ago.

With every step I take, I wait for my name. I wait for him. And as I make my way to the top of the steps, I realize I waited for something that will never be.