She shoves at my chest, hard. “Go!”
I grab her wrists, holding them tight. “Why? Tell me what you’re so afraid of.”
“You terrify me, Alex,” she finally admits, voice shaking. “You make me feel things I don’t want to feel. And I hate you for it.”
She yanks away and storms inside, slamming the door in my face. It seems to be a tradition at this point.
I stand there, chest rising and falling, hands curled into fists at my sides. It feels like my whole damn world has cracked open.
17
ALEX
Here I am, for probably the millionth fucking time, standing like an idiot in front of her door, knowing I should walk away. Here I am, standing like an idiot knowing for a damn fact I’m going to do the exact opposite.
The look in Emma’s eyes haunts me. She begged me to leave, while her eyes begged me to stay. I heard her voice shake when she said she hated me, not because it was true, but because it was the only way she could protect what was left of her heart.
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, but I know one thing: leaving her tonight isn’t an option.
She’s in my bones, in my breath. The look she had in her eyes is branded into mine now.
I lean against the side of the house. I can still feel the shape of her hands on me, the warmth of her breath as she lashed out and admitted that I terrified her, not because I hurt her, but because I made herfeelsomething.
The possible consequences about what I want to do are circling through my head. If Cam finds out I am here, he will kill me. If he finds out any of the history his little sister and I have, he will beat my ass into the ground without blinking.
What I want to do could possibly ruin everything I’ve built with him and the Diaz family for the past two decades, and I don’t know if I’m ready to take that risk.
But Cam doesn’t know what it’s like to carry a kind of love that is quiet and buried and painful every day. Or what it’s like to sit across a room from someone who used to know every inch of you and pretend that she means nothing. Or what it’s like to watch someone you used to make laugh, fake it with other people and smile only for the sake of appearances, while knowing it’s all an act.
He doesn’t know what it’s like to love someone from the sidelines.
I rub my hand over my face, dragging in a harsh breath.
“Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath, and before I can talk myself out of it, I shove the door open and stomp inside.
Emma doesn’t hear me at first. She’s pacing in the living room, fidgeting with the ring on her finger again how she always does when she’s anxious. Her dress clings to her body. The red boots are forgotten by the door. She looks like she’s unraveling right in front of my eyes.
Her pacing turns her in my direction and she sees me.
She stops cold, like I’ve pulled the plug on her storm. Her eyes meet mine, and everything in me stills.
Neither of us move or speak for what feels like an eternity.
It feels like standing on the edge of a cliff with the wind at your back and no rope to catch you. There is only the drop, and the truth, and the terrifying question of whether she’ll fall with me, or walk away again.
Something in me fractures and I find myself crossing the room quickly, without thinking or hesitating. Before she can throw her walls back up, or tell me to leave, or come up with any excuse why this is a bad idea, I grab her face with both hands and kiss her.
She gasps, her hands flat against my chest, pushing in pure shock.
After the realization settles in, she pulls me in like I’m the air she needs to breathe, like I’m the answer to a question she’s been afraid to ask. Her hands fist my hoodie, her lips parting beneath mine. It’s not clean or careful. It’s messy and raw.
It’s years too late but I don’t care anymore.
I groan into her mouth, sliding my hands down her back, landing on the small of her waist. Suddenly the space between us sends me into a rage. I need her closer. My fingers dig into her sides and I lift her without thinking. She is so light, the motion feels completely effortless. Her legs wrap around my waist on instinct, like this is something we should’ve been doing all along.
Carrying her to the couch, I do everything possible not to break the kiss or go a second without her lips against mine. I drop onto the cushions with her thighs straddling my lap. She fits perfectly around me, as if the universe never meant for us to be anything but this.
We are so close that I can feel her racing pulse against my chest.
