It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since Pandora’s post, and West is already here, proving my theory about him not being able to stay away to be true.
I stare at him, trying to gauge his mood through the door. He looks disheveled and tortured and…hot. As if he’s heard my thoughts, he raises the arm not in a sling and pushes his hand through his dark hair. It settles on his shoulders. The motion makes the hem of his t-shirt’s sleeve tighten around his bicep, drawing my attention to the colorful ink slinking its way up his arm from his wrist.
Still, despite that pull toward him being unshakeable, I don’t want to answer. Maybe evenbecauseof that pull. Attraction and chemistry were never our problem. The issue has been respect and communication.
I take one step back from the door, and although the movement was completely silent, West calls out.
“Blue, I know you’re there. Let me in. Please. I just want to talk.”
Seeing him was hard enough, but hearing his voice breaks my will even more.
“I fucked up. I just need to look you in the eyes and try to talk through this,” he adds, and I break a little more.
Next thing I know, my fingers are twisting the deadbolt and slipping the chain off the door. A familiar green stare is fixed on me a moment later, and as I peer up at him, I’m overwhelmed.
By him.
By sadness.
By hurt.
Everything all in one sweeping rush that steals my breath away.
Drawing in a deep breath, I step aside, letting him in despite myself. I use the few seconds it takes me to lock up to steady my breathing. But the moment I face him again, I realize it didn’t do me any good. His gaze is still trained on me, and as he lowers onto the couch, I decide it’ll be best if I remain standing.
“Thanks for letting me in.”
I nod but don’t reply.
All traces of the forced smile he wore a second ago are gone. Instead, his eyes slip toward the floor as he thinks.
“I miss you.”
He continues staring at the carpet after making his feelings known, and the pit in my stomach grows. I’m torn between telling him I feel the same way and holding back for fear of getting sucked right back into our cycle of pretending all is well, only for all hell to break loose days later.
But, at the end of the day, he’s my weakness.
Always has been. Always will be.
“I… miss you, too.”
That shouldn’t have been so hard to say, but with the memory of yesterday still so fresh in my head, it was almost impossible to get those words out.
“West, I—”
“This came in the mail today.”
I hold my thought as he pulls an envelope from his pocket. The second it’s in my hand, the room feels like it’s spinning, so I sit.
It’s from the bank. More specifically, the loan department.
He wasn’t supposed to know about this until I was ready to tell him, but seeing as how the seal’s been broken, I can guess he’s already read it.
Already knows I intend to finish the center without his help.
“If I’d known it wasn’t just a bank statement, I wouldn’t have opened it, but… a loan, Blue?”
He’s trying to mask it, but I don’t miss the frustration in his voice.
