Текст книги "Can't Let Go"

Автор книги: Michelle Lynn

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Do you even realize what an asshole you are? How can you be so fucking blind?” Rob yells, and I press my hands down to get them to quiet down. The last thing we need is the whole house to wake up.

“Why don’t you enlighten me, Rob.” Dex eggs him on, crossing his arms on his chest.

“Rob, just let this go,” I insist, but he takes his hand and gently nudges me to the side. “I can’t handle this right now.” I escape down the hall, stopping at the stairs to overhear.

Rob continues talking. “You two walk around referring to each other as friends. Let me tell you something, friends don’t look at each other every time the other walks in like no one else is in the room. Friends don’t dance close at a bar and make-out in front of a group of people like they want to fuck each other’s brains out,” Rob says, revealing he saw us last night.

“We were drunk,” Dex throws back, and my misery comes to the surface that all I was to him was a drunken fuck. Well, almost a drunken fuck.

“That makes it worse. You want to know why I’ve befriended Chrissy?”

“Go for it,” Dex grits out through clenched teeth.

“She needs someone, and you’re so fucking twisted up, you can’t decide whether to be with her or not. Then you bring Sam back here? What the hell were you thinking? That you could just fuck her with Chrissy next door? You say Chrissy’s just your friend while everyone else around you knows better. If you can’t admit your feelings for her, at least actually be a friend and be considerate of her feelings.”

“You’re actually giving me advice on how to be a friend?” Dex hammers back.

Rob laughs. “Yeah, I guess I am,” he arrogantly says, and the next thing I hear is a hard smash from what I assume is a fist to the wall.

“You’re the worst friend,” Dex says, and I can’t help but feel I’m overhearing grade-schoolers arguing on a playground.

“Sorry to tell you, buddy, you took the cake on that title tonight.” The back door opens and slams shut. Not knowing if it was Dex or Rob, I walk up the stairs, scrambling into the safe confines of my room.

Lying in bed, I wait for the footsteps to come, telling me that Dex has gone back to bed with Sam or that Rob went into his room. But they never come, and the silence eventually relaxes me slightly. Hope that maybe I am more to Dex than he admits. Putting my headphones in, I allow the music to soothe me to sleep so I won’t be woken up by noises of lust from Dex and Sam.

THE CLOCK ON my dashboard glares that it’s after three in the morning by the time I pull back into the driveway. Grabbing my envelope from the passenger seat, I stuff it under my shirt and tuck it in my waistband just in case anyone’s up. The guilt from Rob’s words sent me to my dad’s. Nothing like a few bets and wins to lift my mood and distract from my overworking mind that’s plagued me for the past week. Some days, I wonder why I even bother with school when I could easily earn my living gambling.

The stairs creak and shift as my heavy footsteps rise to the top. Stopping at Chrissy’s door, I place my palm against it, wanting nothing more than to retreat in and climb under her blankets. But with doubt too high, I lower it back down and make the way to my room. Sam’s light snores echo in the room, bringing the anxiety of my situation to the surface. I use the flashlight on my phone to light my way to the safe in the closet and stuff the envelope in there as fast as I can. Like a damn stalker, I stand over Sam and for a second I debate in my head to either climb in next to her or sleep down the hall. Rob’s words ring in my ears, reminding me what a shit move it was bringing her back here in the first place. Then thinking of Chrissy asleep right next door makes me feel like even lower of a person.

Shaking my head, I turn around and leave the room. Once in the hallway, my breathing returns back to normal slightly after having made a decision one way or the other. Finding the comfort of our old-ass couch in the family room, I click on the television and wait until the infomercials bore me enough to sleep.

“DEX,” I’M SHAKEN awake by Sam.

“Yeah,” I half coherently answer.

“I need you to take me to Jessa and Grant’s.” I pry one eye open and find an already made up Sam in front of me. Seriously, her make-up is already on and her hair done up. What the fuck time is it?

“What time is it?” I ask, and she laughs.

“Eleven,” she says. It’s Sunday, so I guess everyone is sleeping in. “Jessa’s coming home today.”

“Okay—give me a sec.” I sit up and place my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. Blinking a few times, I give an internal pep talk to get up. I stand up and dig in my pockets for my keys.

“You could have slept with me last night, I don’t bite,” she jokes, and I give her a little laugh to show her I heard it, but I know I made the right decision.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” I lie.

Her eyes focus on mine, and then she turns away. “Well, let’s go.” She walks into the kitchen, and I notice her bag is already placed by the back door. Being the gentleman, I pick it up and we leave the house.

We’re about three minutes from Jessa and Grant’s when Sam reaches over and turns down the music. “Who is she?” she asks.

A groan escapes my lips. Why does everyone think Chrissy and I are their business? “A friend.” I keep up my usual reference to Chrissy.

“Are you sure there isn’t something more?” she presses, and I bring the heel of my palm to my eye, wishing this conversation could end.

“I’m not sure,” I honestly answer because Sam and I have always been truthful. Our agreement was that if we were serious about someone else, this ended between us. I probably should have put an end to it when Chrissy returned and definitely yesterday when I picked Sam up. I pull along the curb and place the truck in park. The lift of my chest to finally admit to someone my feelings for Chrissy is liberating.

“That’s what I thought.” She unclicks her seatbelt and faces me. “You could have told me. I’d have understood.” She nicely lets me off the hook.

“I’m not quite sure it matters now. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“Oh, Dex. Don’t apologize for falling in love with someone.” She places her hand on the door handle ready to flee the truck.

“No one said anything about love,” I remind her, and she smirks over to me and then steps down from truck. Before shutting the door, she leans in, bending over the seat.

“Nothing has to be said. Anyone can see it when the two of you are in the same space.” She shuts the door, and I sit there wondering what the fuck is wrong with people. First Rob, and now Sam. Chrissy and I have a deep friendship and maybe her return has caused some feelings to resurface. But I’m not sure we could ever cross the invisible line due to the fear it would ruin everything we have.

My mind drowns in doubt as I drive back to the house until my phone rings in the center console.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Hey, Edge. You available to come on over?” my dad asks, “I have some news.” “Come to the house, though.” He hangs up without an answer, and I place it back down, wishing I had showered before I left this morning.

Twenty minutes later, I’m circling around the driveway of my dad’s house. The place I spent two weekends out of a month. The place I spent the most time with Chrissy. Walking in, silence fills the living room. “Dad?” I scream.

“Out here, Edge,” he calls out from the patio, and I follow the path of discolored carpeting.

My dad sits outside with the newspaper in his hands, sports section of course. I wonder if he even toys with the thought of checking the front page for more important news. “Heard you won big last night.” He dips the corner of the newspaper down and arches his eyebrows, questioning why I didn’t share my tip with him.

“Sorry,” I mumble, “it was last minute.” The chair scraps along the concrete as I pull it out to join him.

“Next time, share with your dad,” he kids.

“Will do. So, what’s up?”

“I found Zeke. It’s bad.” He places the newspaper down on the table and grabs his coffee mug. “Man, you look like shit.”

Throwing my hands up in the air as though saying what-the-fuck, I shake my head in disbelief. Is it everyone against Dex day? “Thanks. Anyway, back to the topic. What do we do now?”

“Nothing,” he deadpans, and I wait for more, but he offers nothing.

“And?”

“Nothing. He can’t be saved, and Chrissy sure as hell doesn’t need him in her life.”

“Wait—”

“Edge, I know it sucks, but it’s the way it needs to be. She’s better off without him. Look what he’s done to her. She leaves town and then comes back, and the asshole puts up her body to pay a debt he can’t make good on.”

“Fucker,” I counter, sulking down in the chair. I can’t imagine being so alone in the world. I have my friends, my mom, my dad, Ted. All people that would rally around me if something happened. Who does Chrissy have? I wish I could hunt her dad down and beat the shit out of him for everything he’s put her through. But hell if he’d even care. If he gave two shits about her, he wouldn’t have been an asshole to her all her life.

“She has you … and me. Just because blood connects two people doesn’t mean they’re better for you than friends. That’s what’s so great about marriage. You can pick your family.” He shocks me actually supporting marriage.

“Should I tell her about her dad?”

“Absolutely not. You know Chrissy, Edge. She’ll want to fix it somehow, nurse him back. She’s done it long enough. I wish she would have never surfaced again.” His wish would have been my worst nightmare. I was out of my mind those summer months when she wouldn’t answer her phone. “Keep her as far away as you can from anywhere he might be.”

“Okay,” I agree.

Leaving ten minutes later, I drive around as my mind fills with thoughts of Chrissy and what I want compared to what she needs. Unfortunately, they don’t match. She needs my friendship instead of any half-hearted love. What kind of boyfriend would I be, anyway? What if I get her, only to fuck it up somehow? Remembering she has no one else besides me in her life sobers me. At least no one that cares about her close to the amount I do.

When my truck tires hit the asphalt of our driveway, my mind is made up. I’ll continue to be her friend and never cross the line. In order to do that, though, girls coming back to the house are off limits as well. If Rob’s right and she does want more from me, those actions will only hurt her.

I’m disrupted from my thoughts to find Brady, Sadie and Chrissy shuffling food containers to and from the house. Peering through my windshield, Chrissy exits with a tray as if I had conjured her up. Stopping for a second to reposition her hands, she blows a stream of air from her mouth to move the lose strand of hair from her face. Her long, lean legs look longer if it’s possible, and her shirt contours to the curves of her body. She smiles, handing the tray to Brady, who positions it in the trunk. When she looks up, she sees me staring and maintains eye contact with me. Her lust, hurt, love, and disappointment revealed from that one lone stare. She breaks the eye lock, and I shuffle out of the truck to help.

“What’s all the food for?” I ask Brady, and he stands up, peering over to me. Showing his own apparent displeasure with me, or my actions. Same difference.

“Grant’s. Bar-B-Que. Sam didn’t tell you?” He crosses his arms across his chest and leans against his car.

“No, I’ve been out all day,” I reply, and he nods his head.

“Did you want to come?” he asks me, and I’m not even sure if I do. Usually, it’s a no brainer to hang around my friends especially now after they have a baby. But, Sam will be there. Chrissy will be there, and I’ll be stuck somewhere in the middle between the two.

“Sure,” I agree, because I can’t deny myself from being around Chrissy.

“Good, now go get the rest of the shit from the house. The three of us have been slaving all day.” He claps me on the back, and I step forward.

At the backdoor, Chrissy’s coming through with another bowl in her hands when I open the screen door. She waits on the other side for me to enter, but I usher her through with a wave of my hand. Once she exits, I take the bowl from her grip to shuffle and place it in Brady’s car. Working like an assembly line, we complete loading the car in a few minutes. “I’m going to hop in the shower. Did you want to wait and go with me?” I ask Chrissy, unsure of where we start to become normal again, but I would love her in the passenger seat of my truck where she belongs.

“Nah, I’ll go with them.” She acts casual in her answer even with her eyes darting in a million different directions, never once landing on me. A sign of how much I’ve hurt her.

“All right. I’ll see you over there,” I reply, trying to match her careless attitude. Damn, this is going to be harder than I’d wished.

Separating from her, I retreat into the house, and she walks down the drive to Brady’s car. From the kitchen window, I can’t help but watch her go. Sadie pushes the seat up and rests her hand on Chrissy’s arm. The two of them sharing a look before Chrissy climbs in the back. Brady backs out, and I catch Chrissy’s eyes glancing over to the house while the car inches away. I can’t remember a time I wished I was somewhere else more than right now.

I jog up the stairs, stripping as I go. Jumping into the shower, I quickly shampoo my hair and soap up my body. When I exit, I catch a glimpse of myself, thinking I need to get my ass to the gym. I swear I’m losing muscle. Tossing on some clothes, I grab my keys and wallet to head over to the cookout. No idea why I feel the urge to rush, especially since I’m almost positive no one cares if I show up or not.

THE CARS OF my friends are scattered around Grant and Jessa’s. Pink balloons fly high in the air, anchored down to their mailbox. A giant stork staked in their small well-manicured lawn with a great big It’s a Girl written on a pink star. Parking behind the Michaels’ minivan, I get out and hear the laughter flowing from the backyard. Knocking first and then entering, Chloe’s the first one I find.

“Hey, girl,” I say, picking her up and tossing her over my shoulder.

“Dex!” she yells, hitting my back, “let me down.”

“Magic word?” I joke with her, and she continues to beat my back. For a six-year-old, she’s pretty damn strong. “Damn, girl.” I place her down before my back is full of bruises.

“You said a bad word,” she says, inching close to my face, pointing her finger at me.

“Sorry.” I place my hands out to the side. “Let’s keep it between us.” I crouch to her level.

“Hmm …” she taps her foot and places her finger to her lips.

“You’re watching way too much television. Who taught you that move?” I ask.

“I did.” Kailey walks into the living room, placing her hand over Chloe’s head. “Of course that was before Jen …”

She doesn’t finish, and I don’t expect her to. We all know how Kailey’s role in her nieces and nephew’s lives has shifted over the months. “I think she was ready to blackmail me there for a second.” I laugh, and Kailey joins.

“You should have seen what she used to get from Trey when we started dating. A stash of candy under her bed that would last her a month.” She waves it off, though. “How are you, Dex? Stirring up trouble I hear.” She closes the gap between us and embraces me in a hug.

Placing my hands in my pockets, my eyes shift from side to side before relaxing on Kailey. “I’ve never been good on the girl front.” I give the first excuse that comes to mind.

“Oh, Dex, I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” She smirks and then bends down to Chloe, whispering something into her ear.

“Let’s go, Dex.” Chloe comes over and grabs my hand, tugging me to the back.

“Take my turn at cornhole. I gotta help them with the food,” Kailey calls out to me.

When Chloe opens the patio door, the guys are tossing the beanbags toward opposite boards. Brady, Grant, and Trey in a small circle, chatting with each other while the girls mingle together on the patio furniture. The first set of eyes I find are hazel, and I’m not surprised that they’re focused on me. Taking her in at a table with my friends, my heart beats faster. In my environment, she’s fitting in better than me. Her legs up against her chest with her arms wound tightly around them. She turns her attention back to the conversation without acknowledging me, and my eyes circle around, coming across Sam, who obviously witnessed the exchange between us. She too ignores me, quickly rattling off a joke, making everyone at the table erupt in laughter.

“Come on. You’re so slow.” Chloe tugs harder, and I pretend she has the strength of a man, propelling me to the yard. She laughs. “I’m not that strong.”

Taking the last steps to my friends, they all focus on my fake act for Chloe. “Hey, she’s getting too old for stunts like that,” Trey tells me, shaking my hand and then pulling me into a hug. “You’re the talk of the group. Sorry, man,” he sympathizes for me.

“It is what it is,” I mumble back.

“So, are we still going with the whole ‘friends’ thing?” Grant tilts his head with a grin splashed across his face.

“Smartass,” I cough out, but they stand there, staring at me, waiting for me to divulge some super-secret. “I’m not getting into this.” I pick up a beanbag, tossing it up and down in the air. “Kailey says to take her place.” None of them say a word or move an inch.

“You can tell us. We’ve all been there.” Trey’s the first one to speak. “You saw firsthand between Kailey and me.”

“Jessa and I didn’t exactly fall instantly in love. Sometimes, it’s a difficult road,” Grant chimes in. But, he’s wrong, I’m pretty sure I fell for Chrissy the first time I saw her.

“Sadie and I were perfect, and we never let shit get between us,” Brady shrugs his shoulders, portraying a sarcastic smile I’d like to punch off his face.

“Not everyone can be so perfect,” I sneer, and he shrugs a second time.

“Fucking talk to each other,” Brady adds. “Tell her how you feel, because we all know, and I’m fairly certain she does too.”

“Ugh.” I take my hands and link them behind my neck. “She needs me as a friend a lot more than she needs me as a fucked-up boyfriend.”

“I don’t agree,” Trey adds, but he doesn’t know. None of them do. They don’t know anything about her family or my dad for that matter. The fact she deserves someone who will better her life not make it worse.

“Can we please just play?” I beg, and they each slowly nod their heads, retreating back to their positions.

I try to remain focused on the game. Toss the beanbag, sip a beer, raz the guys … repeat. But, every so often, my eyes unconsciously veer her way. Each time I do, as though she senses me, her vision follows her instinct, meeting my gaze. A silent understanding takes place between us.

EVERY SO OFTEN, that sense that someone’s watching me has me seeking out the source. I never have to search far, because it’s Dex’s eyes that I discover fixed on me each time. Not sure what the hell he expects me to do. His girlfriend is two seats over, carrying most of the conversation at our table. She’s friendly and out-going, but the way she talks about sex and guys, I’m positive she’s never had a true relationship. I can’t say much, though, I haven’t either. The closest thing was Logan last year, but that was a disaster from the very beginning. Clues I should have figured out well before it got to where it did.

“You should have heard Grant when the doctor told him six weeks with no sex.” Jessa giggles, holding her daughter close to her body.

“Are you sure that wasn’t you crying?” Sam jokes, and Jessa throws a death glare only sisters cannot be offended by.

“I’m not a nympho like you,” Jessa teases back, and Sam shrugs her shoulders.

“You’re missing out.” Sam’s indifference makes me wonder why she’s with Dex to begin with. “I mean guys like Dex—” She stops and the table silences. Trying to appear unfazed, I smile through the constriction in my chest.

“Grant asked the doctor if it was a suggestion or a necessity.” Jessa tries to veer the conversation back to her and Grant.

It reminds me again, one isn’t the same as the others. It’s me, so I excuse myself from the table. Walking through the house, I bypass the kitchen where Jessa’s parents are busying themselves with the food. Through the living room and out the front door, taking a seat on the front step. Staring out to the street, I admire where Jessa and Grant picked to raise their daughter. Well-kept houses with parents outside with their kids, tossing balls and riding bikes. The same I wish for my own future: to be a mom, who shuttles her kids to and from an array of activities, until my husband comes home, and we eat dinner together at the table. Ending the day with a bedtime story. I guess it’s the classic dream every girl imagines from an early age.

The screen door closes, and I peer up to Sam. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she asks, and I scoot over, silently permitting her. “Can we talk?”

Unconsciously, my legs pull up against myself. It’s been a defense mechanism for so long. As if I can protect my body from the hurtful things people spout.

She stares out to the streets I was admiring moments ago. “This is awkward,” she starts. “I didn’t know who you were … I never would have.”

I place my hand on her arm. “Sam, I’m not with Dex,” I inform her. “We’re only friends.”

“I think you’re wrong, Chrissy. I’ve been a part of Dex’s life for a few months, and he’s never mentioned you.” She stabs me right in the heart. Noticing my despair, she quickly tries to change her words. “But,” she bends down to meet my eyes, “he’s never, ever looked at me the same way he does you. When your eyes meet, whether it’s two feet or twenty yards, no one else is around.”

Every vibe I’ve gotten this past week says she’s right. Something shifted between Dex and me, and I’m not sure how long I can claim ignorance to it. “Thank you, Sam.” I decide on not doubting her words but thanking her for them instead.

“I’m not sure this will make it better or worse but you deserve to know. Dex and I have only ever been—sexual.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

“I mean … there’s no feelings there.” She stands up, and a relief she’s leaving me alone is all I feel in the moment.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome.” I wait to hear her shut the screen door before I relax my legs, stretching them out.

Contemplating my own life decisions in my head, I stay out there for close to a half hour. Not sure what Dex prefers me to do, but the last thing I want is to throw myself at him. Anger starts slowly wrapping around me like layers of Saran Wrap. Anger that he watches my every move, his eyes finding me from across the room in every instance. The intense stares and pinning glances packed with so many emotions you’d need a wheel barrel to haul them away. If he wants me, why won’t he confess? Or why would he screw Sam last night? I need to embrace this time in my life. Save the money, get my own place, and secure myself a future.

When the screen opens again, I deny the drive to turn around and scream at whoever it is. Then the large pair of sandals rest on the ground to my right, and I can’t help but look up, finding my favorite set of blue eyes.

“We’re leaving,” he says, venturing down the sidewalk. Not about to follow his commands, he peeks over his shoulder. “I said we.” I stay seated. “Please,” he relents, and I stand up. “Stubborn,” he mumbles, though the smirk he’s hiding is clear.

A half hour and a stop at a drive-thru later, I have an idea of where he’s taking me. The signs read closed at dusk on the metal gates as his truck turns into the drive. Parking in the angled spots, I wait for him to open my door this time, and he links his hand with mine, while carrying the white and red bag that contains my favorite food.

Finding our usual spot on the rocks, the glowing orange sun is quickly fading from the sky, hiding behind the tree line. He organizes the food just like six years prior.

“It always seems like I’m apologizing to you up here, but I brought you here because I am sorry. I should have never let the line blur between us.” I’m thankful he’s the one who begins talking.

“Dex, I’m not sorry,” I say, and his head pops up.

“What do you mean?”

The sun dips lower, and I throw my head back to admire the sky, wondering if I’m about to make the worst mistake in my life. “I’ve wanted to erase that line between friendship and more for a long time. I don’t regret that at all.” I inhale a deep breath and a slow smile appears on his face before it vanishes too fast.

“We can’t, Chrissy.” He violently shakes his head. “I’ll be your rock, your best friend, but it ends there. You’re way too important of a person.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I grab a chicken nugget and hold it in my hand.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your relationship with Sam?” A loud and steady stream of air exhales from his lungs while his palms incase his head.

“Friends … with some benefits mixed in,” he admits, and while the admission stings me, I’m elated he hasn’t given his heart away yet.

“So, last night was part of the usual benefits?” I ask, not even positive I can handle the answer. From the corner of my eye, I see him glance up and release another breath of air. Here we go, I tell myself. It’s not like you thought he was a virgin.

“No,” he answers and brings his knees up to rest his elbows on.

“No?” I question again to double check I’m not hearing things.

“No. We didn’t,” he further clarifies, and I struggle to not allow my lips to show how happy I am inside.

“Why?”

“Nothing, Chrissy. Can we please talk about something else?” He runs his hand through his hair.

“Don’t you feel it?” I whisper.

“It doesn’t matter.” He gazes out at the horizon.

“Dex,” I sigh, but he shakes his head.

“Just stop!” he yells.

I slide closer to him, pushing the food to the side. Kneeling on the hard rock in front of him, I place my hands on either side of his cheeks, and he looks at me with scared and frightened eyes. “I want you, Dex. Why should we continue to deny our feelings for one another?”

“Because, if it goes south, it’s over. We’ll have no relationship, instead of a friendship that drives to the core like we have now.”

“That won’t work for me.” I sit back and cross my arms. Since the kind act didn’t work, I figure I’ll go for the pouty teenager one.

“It has to. It’s the only option we have.” He continues his argument while leaning back on his hands.

Climbing up on his lap, I allow either side of my legs to encase his waist, pressing my body against his. “Tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now.”

He shifts his head away. “I don’t want to kiss you,” he says straight-faced.

Inching forward, my lips only mere millimeters away. “Are you sure?” I ask, pushing my chest against him, enticing him. His chest rises and falls in rapid breaths.

“Yes.” He gulps deeply, and I giggle at his attempt to be so disregarding to my advances.

I move my mouth closer to his ear and whisper, “So, you’re telling me if I pressed my lips to yours right now, you wouldn’t reciprocate?”

“That’s right. I’m telling you, Chrissy,” he argues, and sick of the back and forth bullshit, I place my hands on either side of his face and smash my lips to his.

He keeps them tight for a few seconds, almost sucking his lips into his mouth. But the harder I press, the more his restraint diminishes. Without any indication he’s about to relent, I sit back and bite my lip. Our eyes focus on each other for a few seconds until he grabs my face, bringing it toward him, allowing our lips to collide. He positions me exactly where he wants me and claims my whole mouth with his. Inserting his tongue, I match the speed, darting so fast, it’s as if we’re unable to wait for one another. Pressing into him further, the desperate necessity to feel him, to affirm the excitement I may be evoking from him. He grabs my ass, squeezing and molding it with his hands.

His hand travels up my spine. Shivers rising with every inch until his fingers splay in my hair and then he abruptly tears my face away from his. He stands up, and I fall hard onto the rock. My ass is sure to be bruised. Pacing, his hands fly through his short hair and back down. Shaking his head from side to side, never even acknowledging my presence.

“Dex,” I sigh, exasperated with his ridiculous reasons we can’t be together.

Stopping, he crouches down. “Chrissy, what would you do if we don’t make it? Because, in order to still have one another in our lives, we have to make it all the way. No half-way. It’s either we win the Super Bowl or never get drafted.”

“Why are you worried about that?” I ask him, inching forward and placing my hand on his propped up knee.

“I don’t want to live without you in my life anymore. I’ve missed you the past years and I need you as much as air or food. I could fuck it all up in a matter of minutes.”

“Dex, stop worrying and enjoy this,” I coax, but he stands, shaking his head and continuing to pace back and forth.

“No, Chrissy. It can’t happen.” His feet stop, and he glares down at me. “It won’t happen,” he insists, his harsh tone pulling me back.

Crossing my legs, I place my head in my hands, shaking it back and forth. “I don’t understand, Dex. You just practically devoured me. You can’t deny the chemistry between us.” I’m a fool for ever believing he’d see me as someone for his future.

Crouching down, he grabs my hands from my face. “Because, you have no one but me in your life. I’m your family, and, in order to always remain that, we can’t be involved—” My heart sinks into the deepest part of my stomach with the knowledge that he’s drawn that line with a permanent marker.

“But.”

“EVER, Chrissy,” he finishes, with finality to the topic and it is no longer up for discussion.

“Why can’t you just love me? Stop worrying about saving me or protecting me! Just fucking love me, God damn it,” I scream, rising to my feet.

“Why don’t you get it? I’m doing this because I love you.” His head lifts, soft eyes focusing on mine. “I’m giving up my own happiness for yours. Why don’t you understand that?” His shoulders fall, and he turns around staring out into the horizon.