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Last night wasn’t a mistake. It was amazing—until I freaked out and ruined it.
My skin heats with the memory of the way his mouth and hands made my entire body hum with satisfaction. Then our eyes met, and I panicked. My heart hadn’t felt that whole in a long time. And all I could think about was what it would do to me if I lost him too.
It gutted me seeing the hurt and confusion on his face when I pleaded for him to stop, but I couldn’t go through with it. I threw my shirt back on and ran like a coward, rushing out of his room without any explanation.
His nostrils flare as he sucks in an agitated breath, his jaw ticking. He releases his hold on me, his features darkening as he turns away and picks up some more boxes.
“I’m going to put this stuff in the car,” he calls over his shoulder, before walking back out the front door.
Brenden
“Fuck,” I hiss, kicking the wall as Lizzy’s words echo in my head.
She called last nightamistake. A fucking mistake. That one word ripped through me, the pain in my chest worse than anything I’d ever felt before. Which is saying a lot for a guy who’s been stabbed.
I don’t understand what the hell happened. She showed up at my door in the middle of the night with one goal. For a brief moment, she’d given herself to me. It seemed as if she was finally ready to embrace the connection between us.
Until she fled without any explanation, leaving me dumbfounded and panicked.
The way she spent the day avoiding eye contact and barely speaking to me didn’t exactly help ease my insecurities. But I still didn’t see her comment coming.
My offer to pretend as if last night never happened was bullshit. I could never follow through with that anyway. She was supposed to refuse and explain why she ran out on me.
I sigh, picking up my packed suitcase from the bed. Staying here, knowing she only sees me as a mistake, is more than I can handle right now.
The knock on the door stops me in my tracks, and I quietly place my bag on the floor.
“Brenden?” Lizzy calls from the other side.
I let out a long breath filled with a mixture of relief and trepidation, taking hurried steps to answer it. My heart jumps in my throat at the sight of her, eyes puffy and shoulders slouched.
“Can I please come in?”
With a slight nod, I pull back the door and step aside, allowing her to come in. She stops a few feet from the door and turns to face me as I close it.
I cross my arms to anchor myself. Hurt feelings be damned. Now that she’s right in front of me, all I want is to pull her into my arms.
“About last night…” she starts, her words trailing off as her eyes fall to the floor.
“It was incredible.” I take a step toward her, praying she won’t finish that sentence the same way she had earlier.
She nods, her gaze traveling up my body until it meets mine. “It was.” She surprises me by closing the gap between us, and reaching out to place her hand on my arm. “But I can’t. I mean, I don’t think—”
“Bullshit,” I argue, and her mouth drops open, her lashes fluttering from my harsh tone. “That’s all you ever do is fucking think. You spend so much time living in your head, thinking about the past and worrying about your future, you can’t even enjoy your life. Why can’t you live in the moment? When are you going to learn that you have to go after the things you want in life before it’s too late?”
She remains silent as I step around her and jerk my suitcase up off the floor. My face is hot by the time I turn to her again, my body trembling from all the pent-up frustration.
“Wait, are you leaving?” she asks, eyes wide as she rushes over to me.
“I don’t think you really want me here,” I grit out, fighting my need for her.
“You know that’s not true. I just can’t—”
“Yeah, I heard you earlier,” I say, stepping around her again. “You made a mistake—got it.”
“Stop,” she begs, ripping my suitcase out of my hand.
“Why?” I whip around, my eyes narrowing as I step over to her.
