“Okay,” he said simply as he pursed his lips. “If you say so.”
“I do say so,” I said, not able to stop a small smile from crossing my face. He looked back at me and smiled back as well. I felt my heart skipping a beat as we both smiled at each other. For a second everything was all right in the world again.
“I miss you,” he started again and gave me another small smile. “I miss talking to you. I miss getting your texts. I miss you telling me off for not texting. I miss you dreaming of me. I miss you telling me about your dreams. I miss you wanting to hang out. I miss your random messages. I miss you being there in small ways.”
“I annoyed you,” I said, not wanting to think anything positive. Not wanting to believe that he really missed me in any way important.
“That’s what I said. How I acted.” He sighed, his eyes bleak. “I know that. I know I hurt you. I know I made you think I didn’tcare. I know I haven’t been the friend you needed. I’m so sorry for so many things.”
“It’s fine. I forgive you.”
“Please, can I come in?” He pursed his lips. “Can we have this conversation in your living room as opposed to at your front door?”
“Fine.” I sighed then, and opened the door wider. “Come in.”
“Thanks.” He stepped into the doorway and paused as I closed the door. “You look really pretty today.”
“Thanks,” I said, not looking at him. I didn’t want to look into his eyes. I didn’t want to see his handsome face. I didn’t want my heart to skip the beats it always did when he was around. I didn’t want to be so affected by him every damn time I saw him.
“So have you missed me?” he asked softly, and I could feel him stepping closer to me. I froze as I felt his fingers on my chin, lifting my face to stare at him, his eyes hopeful.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I mumbled, a piece of me dying inside. And another part of me feeling the heat of fire and hope that had never fully extinguished. That I knew now would never be extinguished, no matter how much I willed it away. He was always going to come back. He was always going to keep kindling it. And this feeling—this love—it was never going to leave me. I was doomed to love him forever. I just needed to learn how to live with it and not let it ruin my life.
Chapter 19
Parker
Lara stoodin front of me, her face tired and her eyes red and every little inch of me felt like a piece of crap. I’d come over here wanting to accuse her of being in love with Luke. Wanting to tell her that she’d ditched me for him. Wanting to play the innocent victim because I was hurt that she hadn’t returned my calls and texts. I was an asshole, I realized that now. And more importantly, Mila had been right. I was selfish. I was really selfish. I was seeing this all through my own eyes. I was feeling my own hurt. I was dealing with my own pain. And I wasn’t seeing it through the perspective of Lara. I felt like grabbing a dagger and sticking it through my own heart for being such a selfish, asinine idiot.
“I lied,” I said as I stepped back from her and pursed my lips. I let out a huge sigh and ran my hands through my hair. I could tell from the expression on her face that she had no idea what was going on.
“You lied about what?” she said, her eyes barely able to look into mine.
“I lied when I pretended I didn’t know what you were talking about the other day. When you talked about relationships.” I pursed my lips.
“Oh,” she said and looked down. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It wasn’t really relevant to us.”
“Of course it was relevant.” I sighed again as I listened to her. What had happened to her spunk? Had I done this to her? Had I made her this shell of a person? “I’m an idiot, Lara. A fucking idiot. You can hit me, beat me, spank me, do whatever you want to me. I deserve it.”
“What are you talking about?” She looked up at me in confusion, blinking slowly. I wanted to reach out and pull her into my arms. I wanted to kiss away her pain. I wanted to tell her I was sorry for being such a jackass. I wanted to go back in time and redo so many things, but I knew that none of that was possible. At least not now.
“I’m not a complicated guy, you know,” I started mumbling. “I like beer. I like sports. I like women.” I sighed. “I had a good childhood, have good friends. Everything has been pretty easy for me. I like my life. I like it being uncomplicated. I don’t do complicated. I don’t do entanglements. I’ve never had to worry about someone depending on me, needing me. I’ve never had to worry about my own feelings becoming tied to someone else, either. I’ve never had that happen to me before.”
“What?” she said softly.
“I’ve never felt bad because I thought someone was upset at me before.” I gave her a look. “I guess I’m emotionally immature, but I’ve never cared that much about a person that my own feelings have changed based on how they’re feeling.”
“I see,” she said, but her expression showed that she wasn’t really following what I was saying.
“I’ve never experienced jealousy before, either. I never knew what it felt like to lie awake all night, wondering what someone was doing, where they were, who they were talking to, if they were thinking of me. I’ve never known that I could be jealous of my own sister.”
“You’ve been jealous of Mila?”
I nodded and then grabbed her hand. “Can we go and sit down? Please?”
“Okay.” She nodded and we walked toward her living room and sat down on the couch. I looked over at her and I could feel my heartstrings tightening. How had I not known how I felt about Lara before all of this? How had I ignored the feeling in my heart? Had I been that dumb and blind?
“I was jealous of the fact that Mila got to talk to you, to spend time with you. I was jealous that she was the one you were going to. I wanted it to be me. I wanted to hear from you. I wanted to be your one.”
