‘Okay.’ It comes out as barely a word, more of a breath, but it’s all I can manage as I try and fail to calm my racing mind.
Silence settles between us, mixing with the pent-up tension and the memory of what conspired between us the last time we were this close. Suddenly, I feel him all around me, even though he’s barely touching me. The only part of him I feel are his hands on my face, still stroking my skin as if he can’t stop himself, and the dip where his body sits on the edge of my bed. Our breaths fill the quiet space.
Memories of what my body felt like as it was held by him fill my mind. Like a phantom touch, I swear I feel heat lick up my back, all the way to my neck where his fists had curled in my hair. Where he pulled me to him like he couldn’t help himself.
And then – like a blade through the heart I hear …
He lied to you.
He hurt you.
I feel myself stiffening beneath my blanket. I know he must feel it too because a pained noise crawls up his throat.
‘Ria.’ My name sounds like a plea on his lips.
He doesn’t truly care about you.
So, why hasn’t he pulled away yet?
Why haven’t I told him to leave?
Because Iwantthis. And maybe he wants this as much as I do. But we’re both so broken and tangled in our web of lies and secrets that we don’t know where to go next. I don’t know how to move forward, especially with what I learned tonight.
I also don’t know if I can trust him. Not with my mind. Not with my heart – the shattered pieces that remain are barely being held together as it is. Despite this, part of me still aches for him.
Maybe I’m delirious from the lack of sleep, from the sheer exhaustion of the day, or maybe I’m just tired of fighting all the damn time. With him. With everyone. With myself.
Maybe I’m done being here for everyone but myself, and just want to do something, not because it’s right, or will help my family, or will prove Lukas innocent. Maybe I just want to do something becauseI want it.
I. Want. It.
Him. I realise. Despite it all, despite the pain he caused. I still want him. Maybe Tilly was right, and I need to decide if what he did is something I can forgive and move past. And if not, I need to tell him right now. But even the thought of saying those words sends a bolt of panic through me. I can’t, I decide. I can’t push him away.
I start to imagine what would happen if his body shifted closer, if his hands left my cheeks and slid down to my shoulders. If his fingers started tracing along my collarbones to the thin straps of my top. Would I stop him?
What would it feel like if his thumbs slipped beneath the fabric, if they pushed the straps over the curves of my shoulders and down, slowly, deliberately. Baring me not just to the air – but to him?
My breathing turns ragged. His breathing hitches too. He must feel it – this moment that feels awfully a lot like the precarious seconds before you decide whether or not to jump off a cliff and plummet into the water below. The irony of that is not lost on me, given the events that led to this.
Will we both take the plunge, or will we step back and retreat to where we know it’s safe?
‘We should talk,’ he tells me huskily.
‘I know.’
‘I should go back to my bed.’ His voice is a low whisper fanning against my lips.
‘I know.’
‘Is that what you want?’ His thumb pulls gently on my lower lip, right at the corner of my mouth then slides along to the pouty flesh beneath my cupid’s bow, making me shudder. ‘For me to leave?’
I’ve been trying so hard not to act solely on emotion. I’ve been trying to play this game like I imagine Lukas would. With careful thought and precision but right now, with Sebastian above me, with the heat pouring off him and into my own skin – I can’t shove my emotions down this time. I’m terrible at it anyway.
‘No,’ I admit out loud. To him. To myself. And Stars, it is fucking terrifying.
‘Then tell me, Ria. What do you want?’
FORTY-FIVE
