“You’re making me crazy,” he winced and I felt like he stole the words from me.
I shot around to face him, ready to give him hell, but he looked so miserable, so pathetic I lost my steam. He was staring at his shoes, running his hands through his hair.
“I should go.” I couldn’t look at him when he was like that. He made me want to comfort him instead of punch him in the nuts and I should definitely prefer vindictiveness over compassion right now for my own sake.
He didn’t reply, just sighed as if defeated. Finally he nodded, but kept his attention on his shoes. I walked over and picked up my backpack and then marched for the door.
I yanked on the door handle, prepared to make a fantastic exit but his hand shot out over me, holding the door in place.
“I’m sorry, Ellie,” his voice was so sincere, so low that my heart stung with sympathy.
“Fin, it’s not important. Let’s just drop it,” I groaned. Leaning my hip against the door, I turned to face him. “We are never going to agree, so let’s stop trying.”
“Please listen to me, I don’t want to fight with you,” he promised. His brown eyes were the darkest I had seen them, pitch black and full of soul. His hair was mussed from his tugging on it and fell across his forward in messy angles. I wanted to brush my fingers through it. The desire was so strong I had to clasp my hands behind my back, gripping both elbows as tightly as I could.
“Alright, Fin,” I whispered. “I’ll listen.”
“I like you, I haven’t made that a secret,” he began and I the urge to run made my feet itch. I did not need to hear him say more. “But this money is very important to me. And I would never have put you in this position unless it was. I’ve treated you unfairly, and you’re right. I can’t have both, at least not right now. So no more making out, no more flirting with you. I’ll be good, I promise.”
I made a disbelieving sound in the back of my throat, but I really hoped he was serious. This would be good for both of us.
“Are you going to tell me what you need the money for yet?” I asked tentatively, on the off chance he felt guilty enough to open up.
“Not yet,” He stared down at me, so grave and serious.
“One day?” I whispered.
“Probably,” the smallest smile turned his lips up. “If you keep asking, then probably.”
I smiled back at that.
“I’m walking you to your car,” he announced, his tone not allowing for an argument.
“No kisses goodnight,” I reminded him. I opened the door and he followed out into the stairwell. He propped his door open with a brick that sat just inside his apartment.
So softly so I almost didn’t hear him, he said, “Tonight. No kisses goodnight….tonight.”
“Hmm?” I asked, daring him to repeat that.
“I promised I would be good,” he reminded me with no trace of humor in his voice.
And true to his word he walked me down all the flights of stairs and out into the parking lot. He didn’t touch me once, not even the guiding hand on my lower back I was getting used to.
At my car, he made sure I got in safely and that it started. Then he waited some more while I awkwardly pulled out of my parking spot-awkwardly, because he was watching me and that translated into me being a terrible driver because I was so nervous- and then stayed standing there, in the middle of his parking lot, until I was on the street and driving away from him.
I ignored the parts of my body that were disappointed he hadn’t tried to touch me again. And I completely disregarded the loss my heart felt that he was truthful with me, that he was trying to honor our bargain.
He was supposed to kiss me again,damn it! Didn’t he know how to read my mind??
