She’s sorry? Even though I’m the one that tore up her arm?
She has to have come to the same conclusion I had: we weren’t meant for each other. It’s not the conclusion I want our intertwined lives to come to, that we ultimately go our separate ways, never to see each other again. It seems such a waste, that life in all its oddities would find a way to put us in each other’s paths again when we’ve grown.
And still, she is trying to catch my eye.
It happens, that flick of her dark-brown eyes meeting mine, and it lances through me.
I look away and stalk toward the house, hoping to get inside and away from her again. When I glance over my shoulder to make sure she’s still across the lawn with Laura, she nearly givesme a heart attack by being only a couple steps behind me. Christ, this woman is going to kill me.
“Oh my god, dude. Your Aunt Jenny? I’m sure she hates me now. I’ve said like three things to her, and all of it was a mistake.”
How is it possible to feel so loved by someone.
I can’t answer her. My heart beats too much.
She frowns and moves on. “Um. So, I know the wedding is at five and the reception ends at eight, I figure you’ll be busy tonight too. But I want to talk to you about last night.”
My throat is too tight.
“Shawn,” she repeats, grabbing my arm, as I didn’t hear her the first time.
“I’m leaving first thing tomorrow,” I say, shrugging her off. “I only wanted to come up for my brother’s wedding, anyway.”
“You left me in a field, my arm bleeding and cum all over my tits, and you won’t even talk to me for a minute now?” she mutters angrily, but it’s clear enough for me, and the two members of the Carrington pack that glance over at us looking concerned.
I wince and grumble through my excuse. “I had a pretty good reason, if memory serves, and it was to avoid making the situation even worse.”
“I know you’re upset after what happened. But can you please not leave until we’ve had a chance to talk?” she says quietly, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
I don’t want to make that promise. It’s already going to be hard to leave, but if I have to say goodbye to her—I don’t know if I’ll be able to.
She elbows me with the arm I scratched, the sleeve pulling up just enough to show the large Band-Aid that she’s covered it up with. “C’mon, I’ve still got the other nine fingers. Let’s try to be present for your brother’s day.”
I can’t quite laugh, but the breath in me feels a little less pinched for a second.
I try to evade and glance around. “Speaking of being present, has anyone checked to make sure there isn’t a bedsheet hanging out of Logan’s window?”
Elise rolls her eyes, and then her hand is on my arm, pulling me toward the kitchen. It’s empty for the moment, unfortunately. “If you’re not going to talk to me later, we’re just going to do it now.”
She lets go of me once she’s ushered me into the room, and then stands in the doorway to block me from going back out.
I try to get past her, but getting closer to her makes the back of my neck hot, so I just pace to the other side of the room. “You should stay away from me. I can’t be around you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I . . . I hurt you. I can’t come back from that.”
Her mouth sets in a hard line as she crosses her arms over her chest. A beat passes before she says, “Remember that time I closed the apartment door on your hand? And in a week your fingernail turned blue and fell off?”
The memory of that example makes me grimace. “I...what? God, gross.”
“Yeah, it was, that’s why I remember it. That low-key traumatized me.”
“It’s not the same thing, Elise. We shouldn’t be together because...we shouldn’t,” I finish, a little underwhelmed with my own logic. I had good reasons a minute ago.
“I know you don’t believe that.” She holds me in her gaze, her warm-brown eyes searching mine. “Is that what’s truly in your heart?”
As the seconds tick by without an answer, the vulnerability of the question stretches between us.
