Page 166 of Before You Fell

The room grows quiet.

I freeze. “For what?”

“For all of it.” His eyes close for a second. “For the night at the party. The pill.”

When he opens his eyes, they are wet. “I handed you that pill. Told you to trust me, as if I had any fucking right to say that after everything I had already done to you.”

“Phoenix—”

“No.” His voice comes out rough and fractured. “I made it easy, Wills. I made it look fun, like another thing you and I could do together, because I wanted you on that couch with me, wanted you close. I put something in your hand that night and watched you take it because I said you could trust me.”

“I chose to take it.”

“Because I talked you into it. I was high and selfish. I put it in your hand like I was handing you a fucking cigarette.” His voice cracks on the last word and he looks furious at himself. “That was the start of it. I know it was the start of it.”

He pauses. “I fucking got you addicted, Wills.”

The notebook slides off my lap as I go to him. I gently take the guitar from his hands before he crushes its neck under the weight of everything he is carrying. I set it aside and kneel in front of him.

His eyes refuse to meet mine.

“Look at me,” I say.

His eyes lift.

“You did not start it, Phoenix,” I say. “I had been getting high long before that night.”

His jaw clenches beneath my palms.

“I was already spiraling,” I say. “I was using before you ever handed me anything. I was drinking too much. Taking things when I wanted the noise to stop. That was all my decision. Every stupid, ugly thing I did was my decision.”

I smooth my thumb along his cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for regarding that pill. I was already addicted.”

His eyes close as one tear slips down his cheek.

I wipe it away with my thumb. He catches my wrist, his hand wrapping around it as his eyes search mine.

“Yes, you did hurt me,” I say. “Badly. But you were not the reason for every bad choice I made.”

Phoenix looks at me as if the words have hit too deep. His face is still beautiful in that brutal way that makes women think bad decisions are worth the scar. But his eyes are red around the edges.

“I should have protected you from me,” he says.

“Maybe,” I whisper. “But I should have protected myself, too.”

His hand glides to the back of my neck, fingers trembling slightly as they thread through my hair.

That tremor nearly breaks me. Phoenix Stone doesn’t shake. He smirks through pain, stumbles out of scandals with his mouth sharp and his collar open. He makes the whole world think nothing can touch him because he has spent years making untouchable look like sex.

But his hand trembles in my hair.

“I’m sorry, Wills. For every fucked-up thing I did to hurt you. For every time I made you feel easy to use and hard to keep. The thought of you not being in my world fucked something up in me. Or fixed it. I don’t know.” His fingers tighten gently in my hair. “I just know I almost lost you and suddenly all the shit I thought mattered looked fucking pathetic.”

It hurts because I know that is as close as Phoenix can get without tearing himself open. But it’s there in his eyes and pressed into the way his fingers hold my hair, like he is scared I will vanish if he lets go.

His eyes drop to my mouth and the room changes.

All of it folds into heat so fast I lose my breath. He pulls me toward him. His mouth finds mine in an instant, and this kiss is not soft at all. This one has teeth, need, and regret. His other hand grips my hip, dragging me closer until my knees slide against the rug and my body presses into his.