I want to fuck her on the counter, slow and filthy, until she forgets every reason she ever had to keep me out.
I want her legs wrapped around me, voice ragged, nails digging into my back, whispering my name like it still belongs to her.
Because it does.
Every part of me still belongs to her.
But this kiss—this fucking kiss—it’s not mine to twist into something more.Not right now.Maybe not ever.
It’s fragile.It’s full of every word we never said and every second we’ve lost.A moment teetering between redemption and ruin.
So, I stay there, lips brushing hers, hands buried in her hair, breathing her in like oxygen I’ll have to live without.Pretending I don’t feel the wild pull to take her right here against the bins of vinyl, to slide into her and remind us both of who we used to be.
Pretending I’m strong enough to wait.
Then she pulls back.Slowly.Carefully.Her lips still wet from mine, her breath shaky.
“We can’t.I have ...”Her voice cracks like she’s trying to piece it together mid-sentence.“I have a boyfriend.”
I freeze.
She swallows.“He’s nice.He’s good to me.He wouldn’t hurt me.”
Not like I would, she doesn’t say out loud.My stomach drops.
The words don’t hit like a punch.They hit like surrender.Like watching someone walk away from the version of you that could’ve been enough.
And I hate that she’s happy.
Not because I don’t want it for her.I do.I want her safe, whole, wrapped in something that doesn’t ruin her from the inside out.
But it’s not me.
It can’t be me.
And, fuck, that burns.
“You and I,” she says softly, voice barely above a whisper, “we can’t, Roderick.”
Her eyes shine, full of everything we were and everything we’ll never be.
“You broke it,” she breathes.“You broke me.”
The words hollow me out.
My hands fall from her hair.
“If there wasn’t a boyfriend,” I ask, even though I know I shouldn’t, “would I have a chance?”
Her shoulders stiffen.Her eyes close.Her head shakes once, and it’s enough to flatten me.
“You hurt me so much,” she says.“I asked you not to come back.I begged you not to do this.But you always do.You do whatever you think you’re entitled to.”
I want to tell her that it wasn’t my intention to kiss her that way.That I don’t assume or feel entitled to her.If anything, I know I lost her.Me kissing her was ...stupid in the most beautiful way possible.
I wish I could promise that I could fix me and us and be different.But today, I can’t do any of that.I’m too broken to know who I can be for her.
“Men like you ...”Her jaw trembles, and I see her fight not to cry.“You love hard, but it’s reckless.Loud.All-consuming.You make a girl feel like she’s the only song in the world—then you disappear in the middle of it, like the music just stops and she’s the only one left listening.”
