The corner of his mouth lifts the slightest bit. And when I say slight, I mean barely. “I’m good if you’re good.”
When his steady gaze doesn’t falter, an undercurrent of energy swishes down my spine and gooseflesh breaks out over my arms in the most delicious way. He looks at me like he sees me, but something tells me if I reached out, whatever it is I see in his eyes, would slip through my fingertips.
I nod and mush banana between my teeth, appreciating that he’s not making a big deal about it at the same time Webber enters the kitchen and walks up beside me. He rests his hand on my waist without greeting, and the tiny bumps on my arms scatter like cockroaches. My face twists into a grimace. Colson notices, his gaze not straying just because we have a newcomer, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he glances over at his newroommate and lifts his chin at him in a way that tells me our conversation is over.
“Mind if I steal her?” Web asks Colson, who shakes his head and retreats. Webber’s mouth dips close to my ear as Colson disappears beyond reach. “I thought we could talk.”
Webber’s charm and easy-going attitude are what I found so attractive about him when we first met, but when he told me he didn’t want to be in a committed relationship while he was home for the summer, I understood what it meant. I was in his way, and he pushed me aside without a second thought to take advantage of the summer fun without worrying about a guilty conscience. I twist in his arms, backing away until his hand falls from my side. “About what, Webber?”
“I thought we could get together before classes start.” He reaches out, his finger skimming my hand.
How can he think I’d want to pick back up where we left off? I thought I made it clear in May that it was over for me then. “No.”
“Come on. You can’t be mad at me forever.”
I’m not angry in the way he thinks. Is what he did upsetting when I was ready for something more? Absolutely, but I’ve moved on. I had all summer to disconnect and think about the things I want. “I don’t want to hang out.”
“We always have a good time when we’re together. You know that.” His hand creeps under my shirt and skims my sensitive side. I bristle and push his hand out from under it.
“I also know that you dumped me for the second year in a row in fear of missing out on what was at home. You forget that I see what you post online.”
He runs a hand over his sharp, stubbled jaw. Emotion flickers in his pear-colored eyes before they flutter shut for a long second. “It’s not like that.”
“Well, whatever it’s like, I’m not interested.” I’m not giving away more of my time just for him to let me down again. Why waste another year when it’s clear he doesn’t want commitment?
When I walk around him to flee the kitchen, he grabs my elbow. “I care about you, Vi.”
Webber and I weren’t always bad. We’ve had loads of good times and when we were together, we loved each other as hard as we allowed ourselves to. Our bodies became fortresses for each other, and when the pressure of school became too much, we found peace and calm in our time together. I always loved how he could distract me from college worries, that he could pull me into his chest and quiet the noise.
It’s just not the same now that I’ve paired the image of him not being content with the way he’s broken it off numerous times. When I see him now, I get this overwhelming urge to run the other way. An instinct that starts deep in my belly and twines around my ears in vines of hushed whispers.
“I care about you too, but I’m stepping off the merry-go-round, Web. Figure out what it is you want because it’s not fair to drop people out of your life the second they don’t suit you.”
“Yeah, okay.”
He clears his throat and punches his fist into his opposite hand. My heart aches over the pain that must come with my rejection, but it’s not cool of him to continuously play games. His actions aren’t on me.
I deserve better than that, and it may have taken some time and my dad knocking me on my ass this past summer to see it, but he should have seen this coming.
How long did he expect me to move along to his tune without hearing what I have to say?
“I hear you,” he relents. “I’ll give you space.”
I try to ignore the sadness in his voice. In the past, I used to reach out and try to fix it when I heard it, but I can’t be that person for him.
Not anymore.
We both deserve more than our off-and-on relationship that leaves us feeling empty and unworthy at the end of the day.
THREE
COLSON
Five unread messages.
Finn:I want what you owe me.
Finn:Answer your fucking phone, Moore.
