Page 25 of Back To You

I need to taste more of her.

My mind just keeps repeating the mantra:more, more, more.

More of Annie.

More of my Annie girl.

More because it’ll never be enough.

My bottom lip gets caught between her teeth, and the growl that comes out of me just makes her bite harder.

I should have known that I’m not kissing the Annie I knew in high school. Kissing this version of her isn’t just sweet kisses and gentle touches.

It’s fighting for control; it’s dominating.

It’s fuckingheaven.

And then it stops.

I open my eyes just in time to see her take a step back, her hand going to her swollen lips, her eyes both hazy with lust and widened with worry—maybe even regret.

Against my better judgment, I reach for her, only for her to widen the distance between us, until she’s in her room, the door to the guest room closing before I can convince her that this wasn’t a mistake.

***

Saying I didn’t sleep well last night would be the understatement of the century. It was already past two in the morning when we got home from the hospital, and I remember seeing light coming in from under my curtains when I finally stopped tossing and turning.

By seven in the morning, alternating between dreams of kissing Annie and nightmares of her face when she pulled away, I got up and took a cold shower, knowing sleep was not in the cards today.

Every time I feel like I’m one step closer to Annie, she pushes me fifteen steps back. Last night being a perfect example. She seemingly let me in—making me think allmy hard work was paying off—only for her to shut me out again.

I know it felt too real to her. I could tell by the way she looked at me when I told her it’s always been her. I heard it in the shakiness of her voice when she said there was nothing between us.

She’s lying to herself as much as she’s lying to me.

She’ll tell me, our friends, herself that she hates me when she doesn’t.

She kissedme.

That kiss was like nothing I’ve ever experienced, which isn’t hard to believe. No one has ever made me feel the way Annie does—the spark, the heat, the thrill that I feel every time Annie rolls her eyes at something I say or gives me her signature death glare.

I know, with everything I am, that she is worth it.

Last night proved that I’m getting somewhere with her, and the more she tries to convince herself that it’s over between us, the harder it makes me want to fight.

I glance at her door, not surprised it's closed, and I tiptoe closer to see if I can hear her moving around. I swallowed my pride when it came to Annie years ago, and I have no shame pressing my ear to the door if it means I might cross paths with her this morning.

Rosie didn’t sleep with me last night, and she’s not on the couch, so I know she’s in there with Annie, and it sounds like they’re both fast asleep; there’s no movement coming from the other side of the door.

I walk over to the kitchen, my mind turning with all the ways I could keep myself busy today. Knowing I can’t sit with my own thoughts too long, I glance at the clock on my oven and see it’s just past nine.

Rosie won’t stay in bed much past that—lucky for me, I adopted a dog that matches my energy and inability tosit still for too long—and a buzz of anticipation comes over me knowing I’ll get to see Annie, but it quickly fizzles out.

Before the kiss, I was hopeful that both of us being off today would get me a little time with her, maybe convince her to take Rosie for a walk or get lunch. But now?

I know Annie. She is going to avoid me like the plague today.

If Little Miss Lennon hadn’t made her grand appearance into the world last night, I could’ve gone to talk to Emmett about my last shift, but I suppose that’s on the back burner for the foreseeable future—there is no way I am on his short list of priorities right now.

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