“I like you too much formy worldto happen to you.”
My words hang in the air between us again.
Plunging us into silence just like I caused earlier.
His eyes seem so bright, suddenly, like I can see the whole world in them, every emotion I’ve felt in the last few weeks all encapsulated there.
“I’m flattered, Logan,” he says, a twinkle in his eye. “You really did like my cockthatmuch, didn’t you?”
His joke hits me out of nowhere, like a catapult of relief to the heavy weight of the feelings I’m stuck in.
I smile, taking a deep breath and shaking my head.
“I do like your cock. Your cock is a goddamn gift to the world, Chase. And you still know I meant more than that.”
He swallows, nodding. “Fine. Who cares? We like being around each other, but we both really fucking need to figure some shit out. We can break the addiction, right?”
The shield inside me only gets stronger, hardening in me like I’m shutting my heart back into a box.
See?
He wants to be mature. Do the right thing.
So why does it feel like it’s tearing me to pieces?
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and I know it’s Emily letting me know my car is downstairs.
“It’s been fucking fun,” Chase says, and he gives my hip a little pinch. “I think you’re late for that car, and I’m about to be late for my shift.”
For some reason I keep staring at his necklaces.
The way they rest against his chest, and the memory of when I first noticed them.
But maybe I just keep looking at them because I’d break if I looked up at his eyes.
I suddenly worry he’s going to kiss me. He hasn’t yet, not even once, but if he did, I don’t know how I could let him go.
He sticks his hands into my back pockets and gives my ass a tight squeeze. He gives me a little salute, and when I finally muster the courage to look at his eyes, there’s none of that ferocious crackle in the green.
He feels so far away from me. Even before he turns and walks to the door.
I hear the sound of the door opening, and I’m frozen in place.
And then I hear it close behind him.
No kiss.
No needy, clingy protesting.
It’s been fucking fun.
The hotel suite suddenly feels deafening in its quiet. Like all the energy has been sapped from the space, leaving it grey, blank, colorless.
I pace to the door.
I almost open it, three or four times, hoping he’d be on the other side of it, or at the elevator, or that he’d rush back in and tackle me to the floor to leave a final mark on my skin.
But none of that happens.
