And neither do I.
The way he says nothing cuts deeper than if he yelled. I hate it. I hate how he doesn’t even try to argue, because that means he knows I’m right.
“You always do this,” I say, pacing because if I stand still, I’ll fall apart. “You decide what’s best for me, and then you act like I should thank you for it. Like I should be grateful you destroyed me for my own good.”
His head snaps to me, his eyes narrowing. “Destroyed you?”
“Yes.” My voice shakes, but I don’t care. “Because I let you in. Because I believed you when you said it wasn’t only for one week and that you’d find a way for us to be together. Then you left me.”
He swears under his breath, dragging both hands through his hair and leaving it ragged in his wake. “Goddammit, Tessa, I was trying to do the right thing—”
“The right thing for who?” I shoot back, cutting him off. “For Kolmont? For your reputation? For your damn pride? Because it sure as hell wasn’t for me.”
He freezes, chest rising and falling like I’ve just landed a body shot.
But then his jaw hardens. “You think this is easy for me? You think it doesn’t kill me to see you and keep my hands to myself? Every second I’m with you, I’m one breath away from blowing up everything I’ve worked for. And if that happens, I drag you down with me.”
“News flash, Clay, you’re dragging me down anyway. Do you know what it feels like to keep covering for you? To smile through whispers while everyone says you’ll never change? Youthink it’s your career at risk?” My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “It’s my heart on the line. And you’ve smashed it twice already.”
He closes the space between us in two strides, his presence overwhelming. His voice drops, rough as gravel. “You think it doesn’t kill me to know I’ve hurt you? You think I haven’t hated myself every damn day?” His hand flexes at his side like he’s fighting the urge to grab me, to hold me, or shake me, or hell, maybe both. “You’re in my head, Tessa. You’re in my blood. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out.”
The confession should’ve softened me. Instead, it burns hotter.
“Then stop pretending you can,” I snap, tilting my chin up and daring him. “Stop hiding behind excuses and fear. Because if you’re going to keep choosing to run, then don’t you dare stand here and act like it’s for my sake. Admit it’s for yours. Admit you’re a coward.”
The word lands like a puck to the chest. He flinches—actually flinches—and for a heartbeat, neither of us breathes.
Then his mouth crashes against mine in a savage kiss. Every ounce of anger and frustration ignites into a hunger all at once.
His hands find my waist, pulling me flush against him, and all the fury that is burning between us twists into something impossible to contain.
I should push him away. I should remember why I was angry, why this can’t happen again. But the second his mouth crashes against mine—hungry, like he’s been holding his breath too long—I’m a goner.
The world falls away. All the anger I’ve been clinging to, all the walls I’ve built, shatter under the weight of that kiss. Nothing else matters.
He kisses me like he is trying to rewrite every mistake he’s made, every word he hasn’t said. His fingers dig into my hips,then soften, sliding up my back as if he can’t decide whether to pull me closer or let me go before he breaks something neither of us can fix.
By the time he tears his mouth from mine, both of us are shaking. My lips tingle, my chest heaves, and I can feel his pulse hammering through every inch of him pressed against me.
“Shit,” he breathes, voice wrecked. He steps away, dragging a trembling hand through his hair. “I didn’t bring you here for that.” His eyes meet mine, wide and raw. “I swear to God, Tess, I just wanted to talk.”
My breath hitches, still uneven. “You don’t kiss someone like that if all you wanted was to talk.”
He winces. “I know.” He takes another step back, forcing space between us. “I lost control. Again. I’m sorry.” The words crack. “You don’t deserve this. None of it. You deserve someone who doesn’t keep screwing up every time he gets close to you.”
Something in his expression shifts. A mix of guilt and longing wars in his eyes. “I hate that I have to say this, but I need you to hear me out before you walk out that door.”
I swallow hard, wrapping my arms around myself to keep from reaching for him.
“I don’t want to keep this quiet because I’m ashamed,” he says, his voice breaking. “It’s not that. It’s—hell, I need time. I told you how Coach Rudnick is retiring at the end of the season, and I’m still fighting to prove I deserve to stay. If this gets out before I’m officially locked in…” He shakes his head. “I could lose everything I’ve been working for.”
I stare at him, throat tight.
He steps closer, careful this time, every movement deliberate. “But I don’t want to lose you either. Not again. And I hate that I’m asking you to wait. To hide.” His voice drops low. “You deserve better than that, Tess. Better than me.”
The words scrape through the room.
I should’ve walked out. Should’ve told him no, told him I wouldn’t be his secret. But I can’t move.
