Page 113 of Make Me Mean It

“You waited until I was asleep and fucking disappeared.” I fold my arms across my chest, holding his stare when he finally looks at me. “No note. No text. Nothing.”

My throat tightens, choking me.

“I woke up reaching for you, Connor.”

Connor’s lips part and his eyes widen slightly, whatever argument he had ready disappearing as he stares at me, and I wish I could take it back.

“Who the fuck does that?” I snap.

“Theo-”

“No, fuck you, Reid.”

The words tear out of me, sharp enough that Connor flinches, and a laugh scrapes up my throat.

“God, I shouldn’t have even fucking come here.”

My eyes sting, and I blink hard, pushing away from the wall. I’ve already stood here and told him I woke up reaching for him. I’m not giving him anything else.

I make it one step before Connor blocks my path.

“Stop,” he says firmly, his hands closing around my upper arms, warm and firm, keeping me there when every part of me wants to get the fuck out.

“Just stop, please.”

He sounds tired. Frayed around the edges, and my body responds to it before the rest of me can, some of the fight draining out of my shoulders beneath his hands.

I wrench myself free, the places his fingers were turning cold.

Connor drags both hands through his hair and turns away, pacing two steps before stopping. His shoulders rise around a breath, then drop.

When he faces me again, his mouth is tight, and those blue eyes that couldn’t stay off me last night barely make it as far as my face before sliding away.

“I’m not gay, Theo.”

My chest goes fucking hollow.

I stare at him while last night flashes through my head anyway. Connor’s mouth on mine. His hands holding me down. His face buried against my neck while he called me beautiful like the word had been dragged straight out of him.

All of that, and now he can’t even fucking look at me.

“Right,” I laugh, clearing the roughness from my voice. “And last night?”

Connor finally looks at me when he says it.

“It was a mistake.”

My teeth grind together as I nod. Me on my knees for him, telling him shit I’ve never trusted anyone else with, falling asleep in his arms and waking up reaching for him like some fucking idiot.

All one big mistake.

A laugh scrapes out of my throat as I look at him. “And calling me beautiful?”

Connor’s mouth opens, but I’m already shaking my head.

“Fuck, when you make a mistake, you really commit to the bit, don’t you, Reid?”

“Theo-”

He reaches for me, and I jerk away, the pain pulling through my hips, only making the anger burn hotter.

“Do not fucking touch me right now.”

I can still feel him everywhere. His hands on my body. His mouth on my skin. His fucking shirt against my back. If he puts his hands on me now, after standing there and calling all of it a mistake, I’m going to fucking lose whatever dignity I’ve got left.

I step around him and reach the door before he tries again.

But he doesn’t, and somehow that hurts too.

My hand closes around the handle, and I glance at him over my shoulder. He’s standing in the middle of the wreckage with his arms hanging uselessly at his sides, staring at me now when it’s too late to matter.

I came here because I wanted him to tell me last night meant something.

Instead, he told me exactly what I should’ve known from the start.

My grip tightens around the handle.

“Fuck.” I shake my head, looking away from him. “I knew better.”