Page 170 of Composed
A beat passes.
Then I jerk forward, chasing after him the way I should have all those years ago.
His lips tug down when I reach him, and he brushes my fringe out of my eyes. “Are you good?”
I thread trembling fingers through his and push up onto my tiptoes. I seal our lips together. He squeezes my hip. My chest thumps as I pour all the things I don’t know how to say into this kiss. “I’m good.”
Chapter fifty-three
Hendrix • Then
The Light Behind Your Eyes – My Chemical Romance
Twenty Years Old
Mydormdoorrattleson the hinges.
It swings open, and I shoot out of bed.
I trip over the duvet, grab the unplugged lamp off my nightstand, and hurl it.
“Woah!” A voice calls out.
My chest pounds as it curls around me.
Not a burglar then.
I blink when Cole drops to the floor.
The lamp smashes into the wall, glass raining around him.
I kick my legs free and dive onto my knees in front of him. Carpet scrapes at my bare skin, burning me with the friction.
“Shit, I’m so sorry.” I reach for his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He huffs a laugh, brushing bulb shards off his jogger-clad thighs before he looks at me. There’s a storm brewing behind his blown pupils. My gut sinks as his expression blanks. “You left, Rixie.”
I lift a shoulder, my lip quivering.
It’s been two days since the party at Saint’s. Two days since I slipped out of town without saying anything to the guys—without saying anything to Cole.
“We weren’t talking.”
“Like I give a shit.” He pushes onto his feet and holds his hand out to me. “Were you planning to just let me go to Europe without saying anything?”
Yes… no… maybe.“I don’t know. I didn’t really get that far in my thinking.”
He drags me up when I place my palm in his.
His eyes close as he drops his forehead to mine. “You can’t just leave me.”
“I’m sorry.” I breathe in slowly, his scent curling around me. “I just… I didn’t want to say goodbye to you.”
“We say goodbye all the time, baby,” he says, fingers tangling in my sleep-mussed hair. “Why is this one so different?”
Because it feels like it will be the last one.“It just is. You’re not just gonna be a train ride away.”
“You can catch a train to Paris, then to Spain, maybe.” He tilts my head back. “Don’t quote me on it. We both know geography’s never been my strongest subject.”
