He drags his lips down the line of my throat, to my collarbone. My fingers tighten in his hair, and then he lifts his head again. His mouth finds mine. His breath brushes against my lips.
Wait—what am I doing?
The realization hits me like a truck.
I have feelings for him. Its undeniable.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I can’t do this again. What if he just decides one day I’m not enough? What if he gets bored? What if one day I walk in to a party where he’s justkissing someone else? Or he just realises he doesn’t feel anything for me and leaves? Just imagining seeing Ryan with someone else, or leaving me, hurts even more then the hurt I felt with Jacob. I can’t handle that. I can’t do that.
Panic surges up, and I pull back so suddenly his lips hover there for a second, like they’re still trying to find mine.
His brows knit, his breath still uneven. “Maddy?” he says quietly. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, already moving out of his reach, already trying to build walls out of nothing. “We—can’t do this.”
I notice his hair still messy, lips slightly swollen from the kiss, chest rising too fast. Confusion spreads across his face. “What? Why?”
My heart is sprinting as I take another step back. “It was just—” I swallow hard. “I got caught up in the moment. That’s all. I’m sorry. It was a mistake.”
The second the wordmistakeleaves my mouth, something shifts behind his eyes.
“No,” he says softly. “Don’t do that.” He takes a slow step closer. “It wasn’t a mistake.”
I flinch. “Well, it was to me.”
A crease forms between his brows. “Did I… do something wrong?”
“No.” The word tears out of me. “No, you didn’t. It’s just—we need to forget this happened. It wasn’t supposed to. Okay?”
For a split second, something in his expression gives way. I fold my arms tight across my chest, pretending my voice isn’t shaking. “It didn’t mean anything. So let’s just… move on.”
He stares at me, then he drags a hand through his hair and exhales, his voice rough when he finally speaks.
“Maddy… I don’t know what it is, but—”
“Ryan—”
“No.” His voice is quiet, but firm. “Listen to me. You think this is easy for me? Because it’s not.” He swallows. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Ever.”
My heartbeat stutters. “Stop.”
“I can’t,” he says, his voice breaking just slightly. “I can’t pretend none of this meant something.”
“It didn’t.”
“Bullshit.”
God, I hate myself for this.
“You can lie to yourself, Mads. But don’t lie to me.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is closing up.
“I’ve been trying all week to look at you the same,” he continues quietly. “And I can’t. I just can’t.”
My chest tightens.
“You’ve always mattered to me,” he says. “Always. Way before any of this fake-dating crap. And these last few weeks didn’t change that. They just made it clearer.”
