Page 79 of The Cost of Forgetting You

He presses his lips together. “Do you know why I call you Temptress?”

The change in subject tilts me off axis. I adjust my footing, hoping it’ll land me on solid ground. “Because your grandfather being a pastor gave you a complex about Bible stories?”

“No. Because I have always been tempted by you. Even when I knew I shouldn’t be. When you were my best friend. The child of the man my mom cheated with.” His chin dips, and his voice becomes a low baritone. “Even when you hated me. I tried to stay away, to protect you?—”

“To protect me? How?”

“I didn’t want to make things worse for you, start even more horrible rumors. After we kissed… Delilah, I have always wanted you with every ounce of my heart, of my body. But kissing you made it unbearable to keep pretending you were only a friend. And then, because of our parents, a friend was all you could be. But even all this time that has passed changed nothing for me. You’re still so impossible to resist.”

He takes another step closer, and I cannot move. I’m so close to falling off the edge of the only universe I’ve ever known. The one where I want Truett more than oxygen and he’s seen me as nothing more than a friend.

“You can’t say things like that to me, Tru.”

“And why not?”

My voice registers just above a whisper, so soft I’m certain the chorus of insects filling the night air will drown me out. “Because I might believe them.”

He’s right in front of me now. So close that if I looked down, I’d see everything. So close that I can’t look anywhere but at his face.

“Do you want to know the truth?”

“Yes,” I breathe. More than anything.

His hand cradles my jaw. The soft pad of his thumb brushes my bottom lip. I’m still as a statue, afraid to fracture this moment by taking too deep a breath, by opening my mouth wider to invite him inside.

“I want you to believe them. I want to embed myself in your heart, become as vital to you as breathing. I’m tired of pretending like I haven’t thought about you every day since you left. To pretend I haven’t imagined you exactly like this.” His gaze rakes over my face, and his chin dips closer, closing the distance between us till I can feel my breasts brush against his ribs and we both inhale sharply. Something like a growl resonates deep in his chest. “Delilah, I dream of what it would be like to taste you.”

“You’ve kissed me before.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “I’m not talking about kissing you.”

I shake my head. “Truett, I?—”

“I gave you your space.” He swallows thickly, pain flashing in his gaze. “But I needed to let you know how I feel. How I’ve always felt. No more wondering. No more hiding. I said it was a mistake because I knew it felt that way to you, but Delilah? The only mistake I made was not kissing you anyway, Ollie be damned.” He gives me the world’s saddest smile. “There. Now you know everything. The ball is in your court.”

Everything. Everything except how to let go of the hurt that still feels so near to me. Everything except how to be enough for everyone who depends on me, let alone for him.

“I’m getting cold,” I whisper. A shiver runs through me for emphasis. Coarse chest hair scrapes my nipples, stealing the breath from my lungs. I want nothing more than to rise up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. To see if he’s as passionate a lover as his words lead me to believe. But I can’t. Not with so much uncertainty left between us. So much fear.

Shutters close on his eyes. He steps back, and I feel his absence like a knife through my sternum. My lungs burn; my ribs crack. On instinct I reach for his hand. Capture it between mine. He studies me, brow furrowed, as I place his calloused palm over my pounding heart.

“I don’t know how to do this.” My voice is shredded. Stripped down to bare bones. His thumb moves absently over my skin like he can soothe the ache this way. And perhaps he can. “But I’m trying. There are things I don’t know how to let go of. How to forget.”

He smiles, and it’s the saddest expression I’ve ever seen in my life. Upturned mouth, downturned eyes. Parentheticals that could break your heart. That do.

“I can be patient.”

Tears finally spill from my eyes. He doesn’t make a move to wipe them away. He simply lets them exist. Lets me exist. And for that I’m grateful.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

I nod. “I need to call my mom.”

His expression turns to stone, or a close cousin of it. He glances above me to the tree line. “Whatever you decide to do, I support you. If you need me to stay with Henry, just say the word. You need a ride to the airport, I’m your guy.” His firm gaze returns to mine. “You need me to tell her to fuck off, I’m also your guy.”

A sharp chuckle cuts from my lungs. “Got it.”

He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. I’m surrounded by the scent of fresh water and the wide-open sky and him. I suddenly wonder how I ever breathed another type of air.

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