“I liked the way you looked at me,” I finally admit. “The person you thought I was. I didn’t want to lose that.”
She assesses me, analyzing, looking for a lie in what I’ve said. But there’s none to be found, because as selfish as my reasons were, that’s what it boils down to.
I don’t deserve her. I never have. But I wanted to be someone who did.
“Don’t ever lie to me again,” she insists. She shifts a little on my lap, then tentatively lowers her face to mine, pausing just before the kiss as if giving me a chance to stop her.
But when she leans in, when her lips brush mine, all my resolve shatters.
She kisses me like I’m the air she’s been starving for, and I can’t stop myself from answering with everything I’ve kept buried. My hands are on her, pulling her closer, greedy, desperate. The sounds she makes,fuck, I could drown in them.
Sydney rocks herself against me, my mouth devouring hers, and I know she can feel it when I harden beneath her. Everything finally feels right. I deepen the kiss, exploring her mouth with my tongue, pulling her body into mine. She breaks away from me, and I take the opportunity to flip her onto her back, pressing her against the dark leather of the couch.
Her breath stutters when my hand slides under her shirt and my fingers find her nipple. She pulls me down to her, kissing me deeply, rocking her hips up to feel every inch of me.
“I need to feel you,” she pants between kisses, clawing at my shirt. “Please. Alec.”
My shirt is gone before I realize I’ve stripped it off, and hers follows a moment later, hitting the floor next to mine. She’s reaching for my belt, frantic, and I want—fuck, I want her more than I want anything else in this life.
But then her wrists are in my hands, pinned above her head. My other hand wraps around her throat, and I look down at her squirming beneath me, begging. “Please,” she murmurs.
She’s so fucking beautiful, writhing desperately beneath me. Too beautiful.
And I’m still lying to her.
“I missed your hands on me,” she says breathlessly. She doesn’t feel how I’ve suddenly stilled, how I’ve gone tense. “Make me forget. Make me forget everything.”
Make me forget that you lied to me.
That you’re still lying to me.
Because I am. She’s come back, ready to forgive me, willing to lend me her trust. And I’m still lying to her. Lying to her about Dante, lying to her about the danger she’s in. The growing danger I’ll be putting her in if Dante sees me with her.
I kiss her once more, desperately, and then I wrench myself away. She’s trembling, breathless, lips swollen from my kiss. And pulling away from her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
“I can’t do this,” I choke out, my voice rough. “I’m sorry. I can’t. This is a mistake.”
Sydney freezes, her eyes wide, confusion flickering across her face. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me like she doesn’t understand why I’ve stopped. I reach for her shirt, wanting to cover her, to dosomethingthat will soften the blow, and whenmy fingers close over the fabric and I hold it out for her to take, I see it dawn on her.
Her lips part. “Oh,” she says, taking her shirt back and clutching it to her chest. Color floods her cheeks, shame filling her eyes, and I hate myself in a way I didn’t know was possible.
“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching for my own shirt. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’sallI want. But I can’t do this until I can be completely honest with you. You told me to never lie to you again, but there are things I can’t tell you. Not yet, not if I want to keep you safe.”
But she’s already moving.
“Sydney, wait!”
She’s scrambling to get off the couch, to get away from me. My chest seizes as I watch her pull her shirt back over her head, a noticeable quiver in her voice as she says, “You can’t tell me? Or you won’t tell me?”
“Red.”
But Sydney is already moving past me, through the compound and towards the door.
“God. I’m such an idiot. Here I am, laying myself bare to you when it should be the other way around.Youshould have been knocking downmydoor, begging for my forgiveness. So, yeah, you’re right,” she says. She won’t look at me. “This was a mistake.”
Then she’s rushing down the entryway, throwing the door open, and disappearing into the night. And I’m watching her walk out of my life once again.
And just like last time, I let her go.
