“You don't apologize.”
“No.”
His hands slide down to my elbows.
“You don't explain.”
“No.”
He kisses my forehead.
“You're mine.”
“I'm yours.”
He lets go. Steps back.
“Go.”
I go.
I run back. Four miles the other way, on legs that should be dead but they're not; they're alive, my whole body is alive. My jaw aches from his kisses. My chest aches from running. The back of my throat tastes like him. My ass is sore in the best way.
I hit my street. I slow to a walk.
Paul is at the front window.
He sees me coming.
He doesn't move.
I walk up the drive. I walk past the mailbox. I walk up the front step and I put my hand on the door and I breathe. I open the door and I walk in and I don't apologize and I don't explain.
I go upstairs.
I close my bedroom door.
I lie down on my bed.
I smile at the ceiling like an idiot.
Outside my window, the sun's coming through the trees. My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Good boy.
I'm smiling when I fall asleep.
16
MADDOX
Phoenix texts me at five in the afternoon.Boiler. Twenty minutes. Don't be a dick.
I stare at my phone. I’ve just gotten home from meeting Theo on the trail. What an insane 24 hours. Theo left this bed at eight this morning in my boxers under his jeans.And all I could do was stare at the ceiling remembering the shape of his mouth. Then the meet up during his “run,” and the fact that he actually ran there is practically adorable. That whole encounter felt almost romantic, and I can’t bother to pretend it doesn’t. But this is not how I spend days off. I spend days off at the gym or drunk or in somebody else's apartment. I don't spend time thinking about one person's mouth. That's not a thing I do. That's not a thing I've ever done.
I type back,Busy.
Phoenix:No you're not. Twenty minutes.
