Rage and restraint and desire. I couldn’t decipher what was happening. The push and the pull. The hatred and the need.
I could barely speak. “I...I thought maybe you could use a friend.”
“Told you I already have all the friends I need.”
Frustration bled free, my words a quieted plea. “Fine, Rex. You don’t need any more friends, but maybe I do. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to ignore this.”
My hand curled in his shirt. The beat of his heart was wild beneath my hold, the energy severe.
A brilliant, neon tether that burned between us.
A live wire.
Electric.
His jaw clenched, and he rocked against my thigh. His fingers sank into my sides, as if he didn’t know whether to pull me closer or force me away. “This is wrong, Rynna. You can’t do this to me.”
“Do what?” I whispered.
“Make me want you.”
“Why?”
Pain wrenched his face.
I struggled for the words, finally forcing them into the dense air. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You think I don’t see it? That you’ve been hurt enough?”
His thick throat bobbed. “You don’t know me, Rynna.”
“And that’s why I’m here. Because I want to.”
Regret seized his expression, and he peeled himself away, putting space between us. “I can’t.”
My spirit coiled in rejection, and those old insecurities flared. Vying for dominance. I drove them back, refusing their chains. “Because you’re afraid or because you don’t want me?”
Releasing a jolt of bitter laughter, he raked both hands over his face. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“You can tell me, Rex.”
He shook his head. “You should go home. It’s getting late.”
Disappointment gusted through me. Heavy and oppressive. “Maybe you’re just a coward.”
He flinched, and I turned away and pulled open the door. I started to step out when his voice hit me from behind.
“You know what it feels like to be left behind, Rynna?” There was a plea behind it.
I slowly turned back to look at him.
His hands were in his jean pockets, surrender on his face, begging me to grasp something he wouldn’t allow me to see.
I swallowed down everything I wanted to say and instead gave a slow nod of understanding.
Then I stepped out and quietly latched the door shut behind me.
The second I stepped outside, I was swamped with the clear memories of it. Because all too well, I knew the feeling of being left behind.
Rynna – Five Years Old
