Twelve
Blake
I’m such a damn pussy.
I’ll let Nate shove my cock deep into his throat, but I can’t stand hearing him talk about how much he misses me?
Fucking moron.
I grip the edges of the bathroom sink and try to talk myself into walking back into the bedroom to face him.
I love Nate. I can’t andwon’tdeny it.
I’m just not certain if I’m ready to go back to what we were before.
Maybe Carsen’s right—that we can’t go back, but we can move forward—but what if I’m too scared to try? What if I remember how good everything was once upon a time and stop trying to better my relationship, or myself? Then we’re back at square one, and all this suffering and pain was for naught. I’m not sure I can handle that.
I stare at myself in the mirror.
“Follow your gut. Be strong. Be smart. Beyou,” I mutter to myself.
Follow my gut.
I slam my eyes shut and push out a deep breath. Then another, and another. I do this until my mind is clear, until there’s nothing there that’ll sway my decision at all.
The next thing I know, I’m pushing my way into the bedroom.
“Where’d you get this?”
I lift my head to find him holding his burnt orange shirt—his first favorite shirt, the one I kept when he moved out of our room.
Shit.
“I, uh, I kept it.”
“You kept it?”
“Why do you sound mad?”
He stares down at the shirt bunched in his hands. “I’m not. I’m…confused.”
“About?”
“This.” He shakes the material. “Why’d you keep it? After everything, why?”
Almost stoically, I take a seat on the bed next to him, my arm brushing against his.
“It felt right.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t know what any of this means, not even what we just did.”
“I’ll take you still being able to get hard for me as a good sign.”
I shoot him an irritated glance. “You’ve nevernotturned me on, not through this whole ordeal we’ve been through. Hell, I’m surprised you didn’t hear me on the several nights I missed you a little too much and couldn’t keep it in any longer.”
He lets out a dry laugh then sighs.