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I pop back up, pulling myself out of Alvie’s hold and settling between them on the couch. “Right.”
Bex looks me directly in my eyes. “I’m not going to make excuses. I know that I hurt you when I asked you to leave.”
“It was more than asking me to leave, Bex.” I frown.
“Right, it was so much worse. And for that, I’m sorry.” She seems genuinely remorseful. “I was already freaking out because of everything going on with Alvie. I reacted in a way that I’m not proud of. It’s not an excuse, but I do feel the need to explain where I was coming from.”
Alvie’s hand goes to my back, and he starts tracing my spine up and down, letting me relax into his touch.
“Why didn’t you try talking to me sooner, Bex? It’s been over two months since everything happened. I haven’t heard from you once.” I exhale.
“And I haven’t heard from you either,” she says defensively, her hackles rising before she forces herself to relax. “Sorry. That’s not fair. I did tell you to stay away. I should have reached out sooner. I just felt so guilty after and with every day that passed, it felt even more intimidating to contact you. To say I’m sorry.”
I sigh.
“I would like to try and mend things between us because . . . I miss you, Nay. I miss what we had; I want that back.”
“I don’t, Bex.” My voice is hard. “I don’t want what we had. It wasn’t healthy for either of us. I never knew where we stood. I know we have fun together, but I need more. I want to know that I’m wanted.”
“Oh, Nay,” she says, softening in a way that feels too much like pity.
“Don’t ‘oh, Nay’ me. I don’t know about you, but I can’t separate feelings and sex. They’re two halves of the whole for me. I don’t just want you in the bedroom, Bex. I want you everywhere else too.” Gathering my courage, I turn to Alvie. “And you. I don’t like the distance that you kept between us before your accident. I’ve loved our texts back and forth recently, and I do want to be your friend. But I need more from you too, Alvie. I want physical intimacy with you just as much as I want the emotional intimacy we’ve been building.”
I shake myself from both of their touches, stand, and turn to look down at them where they sit on the couch. “I want to share all of myself with both of you, but I need you to do the same with me.”
Walking away and not giving them the opportunity to respond is probably immature, but I can’t take any more of this conversation. So, I run back inside and try to lose myself in the energy of the night.
And maybe a bottle of vodka.
The next morning, my head is pounding and my body is sore, but Gunnar drags Selene and me to brunch and is currently plying us with waffles, eggs, and breakfast meat galore.
"No mimosas?" Selene groans to Gunnar.
"No mimosa's for you, Luna." He chuckles. "I think you've had enough alcohol for a while."
Her little harrumph only makes Gunnar laugh more. I can't help but smile at their antics.
"Okay," Selene says, perking up and turning to face me. "So, what happened with Bex and Alvie last night?"
It's my turn to groan.
"No getting out of it, Naomi. She's just going to keep pushing." Gunnar smiles.
"He's right, you know," she agrees, her attention bouncing back to me. "Now spill."
"Not much happened. I was tipsy and we, umm . . . Bex and I made out for a while,” I confess, and Selene gasps in excitement. “Then things got a little tense, so we went out on the balcony for a while and just talked. I told them how I've been feeling, and we left it at that."
“What did you tell them exactly.”
I pause, thinking back to my tipsy word vomit from the night before. “I told them the truth, that I can’t do casual with them. My heart can’t take it.”
“Awe, Nay.” Selene’s expression is far too pitying for my liking.
“It’s fine,” I mumble into my coffee.
“Still . . . how did they respond?” she asks.
“They didn’t.” I shrug.
