I should have known then that something had gone terribly wrong. I should have known from his irrational behavior that something was off. But that reckless part of me that was still young and dumb—the one I thought had died a long time ago—chose to look away. It chose to keep moving forward, knowing I shouldn’t go down the road I’d been lost on before.
“Okay,” I said. “I can meet you at a bar. Or a restaurant. Or—”
“No. Somewhere else.”
I looked through the floor to ceiling windows. “It’s pouring outside. It has to be inside.”
“I could meet you at school. At your dorm—”
“I’m… not there.”
“Wherever! I can meet you wherever you are. Just,” he exhaled in frustration. “Where are you?”
I hesitated. “I’m at Jake’s.”
I couldn’t say home. It didn’t feel right to tell him I lived there. Not with his disheveled state. He was vulnerable, for whatever reason. This wasn’t the time—or at least, that’s what I told myself.
“Okay. Send me the address. I’ll be there soon.”
“E,” I pleaded, but the call had ended.
Even though I knew it was wrong, even though my conscience warned methis won’t end well, I sent E Jake’s address, and I waited. Like a lamb being led to the slaughter, I followed my heart blindly and awaited ruin.
E’s frantic bangs pounded on the door fifteen minutes later, and I braced myself for impact as I opened it. I didn’t know what I expected to see, or how I would feel about it, but whatever I could have imagined, this was worse.
E lookedgood. Devastatingly good. Like a walking sex god, and every part of me craved him on sight. His hair was longer and fell into his eyes, dripping from the rain, and it made him even sexier. His jaw was squared, and his cheeks hollowed. His brown eyes looked like burnt caramel against the deepest black of his soaked hoodie. I swallowed hard as I took him in, searching for the air I’d lost.
In one swift move, he stepped inside, wrapped me in his arms, and took in a deep breath. I inhaled deeply, drowning myself in his scent—cedar and rain, and a laundry soap I had always loved but never found.
He embraced me tightly for endless minutes, and I held him close, never wanting to let go. But I forced myself to. Because he wasn’t mine to hold. Nor was I his.
I stepped back from him.
“Hi,” I said with a small smile. I tried to hide the way the sight of him, the feel of him had warmed me from the inside out.
“Hey.” He smiled back, but it wasn’t the one I remembered. It was pained, tormented, and lost. Confused and overwhelmed. Like a man who had seen his own death.
I looked down at his soaked sweatshirt, which had just soaked me too. “Want something to change into?” The minute I said it, I felt uneasy. “Or I could throw your stuff in the dryer?”
He gave me that crooked grin. “Trying to get me out of my clothes already?”
I nudged him in the chest. “Ha-ha. Now you can freeze.”
I turned and grabbed two mugs, deciding to make coffee. It was late. Too late for caffeine, but something told me we’d be up for a while.
The apartment was open concept, but E studied each space independently. He walked around the kitchen, then the living room, and the dining area. He looked over the rooms, silently assessing each corner, touching things as if to check if they were real. A pillow. The curtains. A coaster still wet with the condensation of a previous drink. His eyes surveyed everything slowly, intentionally, like he was looking for something he knew he’d find. When he finally came to the CD tower, he squatted and pointed to one in the middle.
“There it is,” he said with that crooked grin.
“What?”
“The proof that you exist here.” He pulled a disc out from the rack and walked it over to me. His voice was lowand steady, and it scared me how calm he sounded compared to minutes earlier on the phone.
“I wasn’t sure when I didn’t see fluffy couch pillows or frilly curtains. And there are no blankets on the couch.” He pointed to the living room and then to me. “You like blankets.”
“Do I?” I let out a light laugh, trying to read his tone.
He nodded with a slight grin. “Mmm-Hmm. You like them when you read.” My smile fell, and my heart picked up speed. “I thought maybe I was wrong for a second. But this,” he tapped the edge of the CD in his hand. “This I’d know anywhere.” It was the Allman Brothers’Brothers and Sistersalbum I’d purchased six years before. With him.
