Page 26 of Ambrosia Kisses
I'm terrified of putting my heart on the line again…and equally as terrified ofnotdoing it. I've bounced that conundrum around all night, and I still don't really know which path to take. Either way, I think I risk heartbreak.
Maybe that's the answer. If I walk away now without giving this one more chance, I still walk away with a broken heart. I still don't get over him. But if I give him another chance, maybe it ends happily for us this time. Maybe we get it right this time.
I desperately want to find out, but I'm not the same girl I was back then…the one who jumps first and asks questions later. Life ground that habit out of me. Or maybe it was losing Ridley and Pierce that ground it out of me. I don't know. All I know is that I'm more cautious now, guarded in ways I never even considered back then.
Life forged steel into my bones, but I think it made me cautious, too. When you know what it's like to be broken, well, it's hard not to remember the pain of watching those fissures form.
"You don't owe me thanks, Dimples." He curves a hand around my waist, moving slowly, as if he's giving me time to tell him to back off. But I don't say that. I stare at his lips, wishing they were on mine again. Wishing I wasn't a nervous wreck, too afraid to tell him what I really want in this moment.
I want to be brave and bold like I was when we met three years ago…like I was when I slipped my hand inside his pants and practically demanded that he take me to bed. But I haven't been that girl in a long time. I'm the glued-together pieces of what's left of her.
He dips his head, and his lips brush my cheek.
I bite my lip, fighting a whimper.
"Sweet dreams, baby."
Stay, Ridley. Please, just stay.My mind forms the words, but my mouth won't speak them. "Sweet dreams, Ridley."
He holds onto me for a long moment before he reluctantly steps away. With one final look, he practically launches himself through the door, as if he knows he won't go any other way.
As soon as it clicks closed behind him, I regret being a coward. I regret not pressing my lips to his. I regret the wholejust friendsdeclaration. We were never friends. We were two nebulae colliding. I think we still are.
Why did I let him leave?
I press my forehead to the door, groaning. Is this really who I am now? So broken that I'm terrified of reaching for what I want? So timid that I just let the chance of happiness slip through my fingers?
He screwed up back then…but I'm not innocent either, am I? His cousin told me that he left, and I believed it. So much so that I packed up and ran all the way back home without even trying to call him to demand an explanation.
If he's guilty of not fighting for me…doesn't that make me guilty, too?
It does. Iknowit does. And we've both been paying for it ever since.
Well, I'm tired of paying for it. I'm tired of regret. I'm tired of missing him. He's here right now, practically begging me for a second chance. So why the hell am I standing here, fighting what I want?
I yank the door open, prepared to run after him. "Rid…"
His name dies on my lips when I see him standing in front of me, his hands bracketed on either side of the doorframe as if he's physically restraining himself from ripping it off the hinges to get back inside.
His wild eyes meet mine, his chest heaving like he just ran five miles. "I couldn't leave, Dimples.Fuck.I couldn't walk away from you again. I know I won't survive it."
He looks like he's drowning, the fires of hell burning in his gaze. I know exactly how he feels. I feel them licking at my soul, too, threatening to burn me alive.
"Then don't," I whisper.
He groans, the sound so loud and pained, I know making it had to hurt his throat. But I don't have time to think about that before we're crashing into one another like nebulae colliding again. The shockwave melds us into a single tangle of arms and legs and clawing desperation. We tumble to the floor just inside the door in a heap, our gasps lost to the way our lips fuse together.
My legs splay around his hips as he rolls us so I'm on top of him. I cry out against his lips when I feel the hard ridge of his cock against my pussy. There's no stopping the way I rock against him, just to feel him against my clit.
"Christ, baby," he groans, his hands full of my ass as he helps me move on top of him. "Keep rocking just like that. Come all over me."
"I want…want to see it."
"You want to see yourself come?"
"No. Your cock."
"Jesus," he growls, his hips arching into mine again. His hands fall from my ass, ripping through the button on his pants. He tugs the zipper down with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.
