“Mara, please.”
The crack in his voice stops me. I turn to meet his eyes and everything in me deflates. He’s not a threat. He’s not smirking at me or manipulating me. He’s standing in the middle of his room, shirtless, stomach and shoulders looking almost shriveled as he folds in on himself.
He’s just as broken as I am.
“I’m sorry,” he says, fresh tears falling. “Please. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Hannah. I’ll tell her I’m sorry too. I just didn’t know what to do.”
My breathing is tight and fast in my lungs, but god, I can’t walk away from him. Because I don’t know what to do either.
I drop my bag to the floor but keep hold of the strap. “I’m sorry too. This is . . . I didn’t expect this.”
“I didn’t want to keep it from you. It was shitty.”
“Not that. I mean, yes, you should’ve told me, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” I look down at his floor, following the tiny fissures all along the decades-old hardwood. I wave my hand between us. “This.”
His expression falls, and with that subtle drop of his eyes, I know he didn’t expect it either.
“We should probably just call this what it is, Alex.”
“And what is it?”
“Two really lonely people in a lot of pain.”
He sighs and rubs at his forehead. “That’s not true.”
“Really? Then why have you never asked me out? Why have we never hung out without Owen or Charlie? It’s not just because of them. It’s because it’s never crossed our minds before right now. Until we were all each other had. Even after we kissed at the cemetery, we didn’t know what to do about it. Didn’t want to do anything about it.”
“I’ve always thought you were beautiful and talented. I’ve told you that.”
“That doesn’t equal wanting to be with someone.”
“I’m not using you,” he says, his voice strained.
“Yes, you are. And I’m using you. It’s okay to admit it. It doesn’t make you an asshole.”
“Yeah, well, what does it make me?”
“Fucking human.”
He presses his mouth together, his chin all wobbly, and it claws at something inside me.
“I knew he was lying,” he says, staring down at his feet. “And I knew you knew it too, and I . . . didn’t know what to do. It just . . . it helped. Being around you.”
My throat aches. “I know.”
“But that’s not all it is,” he says.
“No. But that’s how it started. And it’s not enough. You know?”
He nods, chewing on his bottom lip.
“I don’t want to lose you as my friend,” I say. “That’s meant a lot to me, but I’m not ready for this. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this. For you and me. For a lot of reasons.”
“Mara—”
“I need to go.”
“Seriously, let me take you.”
