Page 108 of Rebound
“Not until you apologize.”
This might not be the best idea because Lavinia’s thighs are spread, straddling my hips as my cock presses right against her soft center.
“I’m never going to apologize, you deserve it,” she cries.
Somehow, she manages to grab a hold of my arm and buck up her hips. Then she’s throwing me onto my back and straddling me. She’s breathless, chest rising and falling rapidly, her hair a mess, curls falling everywhere. I reach up, tugging on her hair.
“Your Medusa curls drive me crazy,” I say.
“I like to think of them as Merida curls, although I’m flattered to be compared to Medusa.”
“How lucky a man has to be to see you as the last thing before he dies,” I say, my hands gripping her waist under my shirt. Lavinia braces her hand on either side of my head, falling forward, her hair like a curtain around our heads.
“The things you say can make a girl feel very special, Mr. Maddox,” she says in a low voice.
“When the girl is you, I want you to feel special,Mrs. Maddox.”
Lavinia nips at my bottom lip. “If I’m so special, why did you ignore me for eighteen years? Out of which, I was right there for two years, and you didn’t even have the excuse of not being in the same city or not having my number.”
I should’ve known she’d ask this, and it's my fault for growing complacent. I flip us over so we’re both on our sides facing each other and then I pull the duvet over us. I don’t want her catching a cold.
“Is that what you think I’ve been doing, ignoring you?” I ask.
Rolling her eyes, Lavinia sighs. “Don’t tell me you’re about to gaslight me into believing you haven’t been ignoring me. Literally the first time we spoke in eighteen years was the day of my wedding.”
I snake an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer. “Vin, I’m not going to gaslight you into believing you’re wrong.”
“Good that we got that cleared up.” This statement is followed by another eye roll and a nose twitch like she’s fighting hard to keep a straight face. Her body is stiff against mine.
I should’ve prepared an explanation before we got this far, airbrushed the truth so it didn’t make me sound psychotic.
“I can’t ignore you, Vin. I might not have been talking to you, but I can’t ignore you.” I pause to make sure she’s actually listening to what I’m saying. “You can’t ignore the brightest thing in a room. It’s like living on earth and ignoring the sun. Every day, not talking to you was the hardest thing I had to do. I watched you every minute, every second when you were close to me.”
Like the air being let out of a balloon, Lavinia relaxes against me. Her hand comes up to rest on the side of my face, soft and warm, like the look in her eyes. She’s so forgiving. I want to keep her locked up so no one can ever hurt her, including me. I’m terrified of fucking this up and losing her before I’ve even had the chance to have her.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I wanted you to talk to me and when you didn’t, I figured you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
“I didn’t want to be your friend,” I say.
Hurt flickers across her face and I shake my head, closing the distance between us to kiss her softly.
“What I’m trying to say is, I didn’t want to bejustyour friend, Lavinia. I couldn’t watch you with Josh, with anyone, and standby and pretend I was happy. At the same time, I knew I was the last man on earth you belonged with. My feelings were my responsibility, and you shouldn’t have had to put up with any awkwardness, expectations, or bitterness from me.”
Lavinia doesn’t say anything, just watches me with her soft, tender eyes. Her eyes have always reminded me of a forest, one you can get lost in and never want to leave because you finally feel like you belong. Like you’re connected to the deepest part of yourself, in a place you’ve spent years searching for.
“If I couldn’t be happy as your friend, I figured you were better off not having me as a friend at all. I know it hurt you, and I’m sorry for that.”
Lavinia still doesn’t say anything and for a second, I wonder if she’s fallen asleep with her eyes wide open. Then she blinks and snuggles in against my chest. “I understand.”
“Would you have left Josh for me?” I don’t know why I ask, but I suddenly want to know.
Her eyes become glassy as she looks over my shoulder. “I don’t know. The last two years are kind of a blur, and not in the same way that life often feels like it’s going too fast. I mean, it’s really a blur, like I disconnected from what was happening around me.”
When she looks back at me, there’s a small spark in her eyes.
“This is going to sound extremely stupid, but sometimes I wonder if on that bike ride we went through like a portal or something and ended up in a different reality. I’ve felt more like myself since the wedding that never happened than I did before it.”
“That’s from shedding two hundred pounds of deadweight named Josh Whitmore.”
