Page 112 of Aftersome
“I think you want me too,” I confessed. “Actually, I don’t think, I know you want me, Mal. You want this. Us.”
If someone could look shredded up into pieces because of my words, that’s exactly how Mal looked. Torn, confused, angry, he ripped his stare away from mine and growled to himself.
“There will never be an us,” he shouted. “It can’t happen. We can never happen. It’s wrong.”
I went toward him.
“Then why doesn’t it feel wrong? Don’t you think that I’m fucking pissed at myself for feeling this way? Wanting you even though I know I shouldn’t.” My words came out as a plea. Begging for him to recognize us and what we have. What we could have together.
“Don’t,” he grounded out firmly. “You don’t want me.”
I laughed. Sarcastically—manically—because he had to have known that was a lie.
“I do, though. God, you know I want you,” I cried out. “How could you not see it or feel it? I feel you everywhere, Mal. In myhead, my heart, bones, my soul. How could I feel so much, and you say you don’t feel anything at all?”
It was obvious he was just trying to push me away, but I didn’t understand why. Especially now, after everything he admitted last night.
Why?
His chest was heaving, his eyes were intense, and I thought for a moment I had him.
“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t want this.”
With my eyes, I begged for the truth. For his honesty, because I knew I wasn’t getting it.
“I don’t want this, Wren. I don’t want my best friend's girl.”
My stomach dropped as my eyes blurred with more tears.
“I’m your girl…” I whispered under my breath, but loud enough for him to hear it.
“Fucking stop, right now,” he snapped.
His face was red with fury and finally, he released his hockey stick by throwing it roughly onto the ground beside him.
“No, Mal. Admit it. That day that I came back into your life I was.”
“You want me to admit it?” He ate up the distance between us, his nose once again lined up with mine. “You want me to admit that all I can think about is your fucking smile and dream about a future where I can wake up next to you every morning? Is that it? Or do you want more?”
My mouth opened and closed.
“You want to know how badly I want to strip you bare and memorize every inch of your skin before I fuck you? How I want to kiss your mouth again and never fucking stop?”
Oh. My. God.
My throat went raw and could barely contract around the words to respond with.
“Yes,” I replied in a meek, timid voice. “I want you to admit everything.”
“We won’t work, Doe.”
His arms were resting at his sides, but I could sense his need to touch me.
Hold me.
“We will,” I argued. Then brushing my nose along his, my eyes closed. “We have to.” Lifting my palm, I laid it against his cheek again. Already I felt better feeling his warm skin against mine.
I felt safe, comforted.
