My palm runs down the side of his neck. My thumb brushes higher until it smooths against his earlobe. I go as far as tracing his entire ear. “I hate all of that happened to you. I wish I could turn back time for you. Make it better.”
His hands drop to my thighs.
“What’s done is done.”
“You get to choose how you react to it. You don’t have to be so angry, Colson. No one is forcing anything on you. Not in a way where you have to push us away. We just want to be there for you when you need us. You matter.”
His hands brush higher until they’re under my shirt and on skin. “You say that, but you don’t deserve this bullshit. No one does. I don’t know how to rewrite reality. To turn it into a story where it’s good enough for you, Violet, or anyone else.”
“You spent years taking care of your mom, and I understand why, but don’t you think it’s time to take care of yourself? Isn’tthat why you pushed me into my apartment that night and had sex with me? Because you were tired of giving up what you want for the sake of others? She’s gone but…” I’m nervous to say the rest, unsure of how he’ll react, but I need to get it out. “She’s still taking your autonomy from you. She’s stealing your choices, your love, and your ability to receive it all back. You’re letting all these circumstances victimize you.”
“I hate it when you make so much fucking sense.” His hands move up and down my sides, his thumbs rolling over my ribs before dipping back down and starting again.
“Stop fighting,” I blurt out, holding his face in my hands and bending forward until I can place a gentle kiss wherever my lips land. This entire time I’ve been trying not to think if there are more marks on his beautiful face. It’s hard for me to rationalize why it’s so easy for him to endure so much physical pain but impossible to face his emotions. I’m at the point where I’m not opposed to begging. I can’t stand the thought of him back in that candy warehouse or on the streets in the middle of the night, taking a beating that he never deserved in the first place.
“Don’t leave. Come back to my apartment with me and stay. We’ll work through what’s happened and figure everything out as it comes up. It can be that easy if you let it be. I’m so angry at you for not telling me what was going on, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want this, that I don’t wantyou.”
I pepper kisses over his cheek, my lips brushing against parts of him I’ll never stop loving. Maybe I shouldn’t still feel this way. He took advantage of how easily I let things slide. He didn’t confide in me to the same extent I did him, but we have always been there for each other. What we had wasn’t fake. And I do believe that he’s the man I got to know. Underneath all the hurt and pain, he’s that person. He has to be.
He tips his head against me. I rock my forehead against his, our noses nudging one another.
I sigh. “Doesn’t this feel good to you?”
His hands slide back down to my hips, and like before, he tugs me as close to him as I can get. My knees bump into the wall behind him, but my pelvis molds against him perfectly, grazing a very hard something.
He rolls me into him, causing my heat to drag over him. The butterflies in my stomach revive, flapping up out of the darkness. “You always feel good to me, Violet. That’s the problem.”
“I don’t see how that’s an issue,” I murmur.
“Because you’re this beautiful fucking gem. Polished and sparkly, and I’m the tainted jeweler who will cut you in half and mold you into something else just because I can.”
“We’re all a little fucked up. Just not in the same ways.”
“I don’t want you fucked up at all,” he whispers, bumping his nose against mine again. God, how much would it take to seal my mouth over his?
My hands rest against his upper chest. He keeps my hips planted over his hard length. It’d take nothing to drag my panties to the side and revert back to who we used to be. “Colson.”
“Vi.”
“Ever think of yourself as the gem? But also the jeweler? You’re polished and sparkly in your own ways, but you won’t let yourself shine because you’re constantly dirtying your hands before handling yourself.”
“Mmm, maybe.”
I blow out a breath, my sigh rolling out of me like tumbleweed. I don’t know how else to make it clear that I want him no matter where he’s at mentally and emotionally. No matter what’s happened in the past, I want to forge a new and better future together. Why doesn’t he want the same?
It reminds me an awful lot of my mom and how she stuck by Dad, despite his issues. My words are a mumble out of my mouth. “Are you going to stop?” I almost don’t even want to hear the answer.
“This?” He grinds me against him again. My stomach coils tighter. I’d love nothing more than to keep going. To do things to each other in this dark closet, but…
“No. The fighting.”
“Maybe I can be convinced,” he teases, giving me a bigger glimpse of himself. This is who he is. Why can’t he see that? Why can’t he see that he can choose this for himself? That we can be us again?
“Liar.”
“Now you’re learning.”
I nibble on my lip, unsure of what to do next, but then Finn pops up in my head. “What happens when Finn turns out to be right?”
