Page 95 of Under the Influence

I can’t dance anymore.

I stand to walk out of her office, practically charging the door. Pausing with my hand on the knob, I turn back to her, “Tell her to enjoy dancing while she’s little. When you get older, it just keeps getting harder and harder to walk.”

Before she can respond, I exit. The sorrow behind her eyes for what she thinks happened makes me sick. I feel my heart start to race as my lungs try to keep up with it, the tears stinging my eyes. Why can’t he just leave me alone?

Just ruin someone else’s life, Nash Langdon. I’ve done a pretty great job at ruining my own.

Unable to breathe, I feel my feet start to pound against the tile floor as I run to the bathroom. I break out into a cold sweat as I push the stall door open to vomit, the contents of my stomach filling the toilet.

I finish, sitting back against the stall door. Growling, I stare at the ceiling. I regret even helping Nash the other night. I felt led to help him, and all he wanted to do was hurt me.

Make me off-limits to everyone, so I can make no friends.

Almost drowned me just so I didn’t ride home with Madden.

Allowed me in his bed, just so he could flip the switch the next day.

And, still, after everything, I can’t stop thinking about him.

Sometimes hate looks a lot like love.

I hear the door swing open, and footsteps approach the stall door as I try my best to control my breathing.

I can feel him.

I wait for him to speak, but he remains silent. Sitting on the opposite side of the door, I can feel his back against mine beneath it, and all I can hear is his breathing. His hand searches for mine on the floor.

I feel his warmth, his rough hand against my much softer one. The bile rises in my throat as I think about how he yelled at me to leave his house that morning. How I felt that he wanted to be with me, so stupid.

Two years, two long, stupid years, and I still held on to the hope of what might have been. I feel my breathing start to calm just by the touch.

“Why are you here?” I ask. “I don’t need you, you know?”

I feel him shift behind me, his head leaning into the door like mine, but he still doesn’t speak.

“I lied when I told you I was sorry. I wanted to kiss you back then. I would do it again, Nash. Even if it cost us both everything all over again.”

I feel his grip tighten on my hand, but I don’t look at it, my eyes still trained on the wall, stinging with tears.

“I lied for months. To everyone. My parents, my friends, myself. I kept telling myself it wasn’t a big deal,” I pause, finally telling the truth. “And you were right before, I am responsible. If I had just told Aspen the truth, she would’ve known it wasn’t Zander in the video.”

I stare ahead, the white wall getting blurry from my tears. I wait for him to talk, to tell me “it’s okay,” to say anything, but all I hear is the commotion in the hallway.

“Why are you like this?” I beg. “You push me away because you think it makes you look weak, but the truth is, you’re afraid. You’re afraid because you know that you could love me one day.”

His hand slips from mine, and like a flash of lighting, he’s gone.

And just like every other time before, just when I start to get too close, he finds a way to escape. As awful as it is, I think part of me likes that he feels threatened by Carson, likes that he’s jealous. I realize that is toxic as hell, but I’m just as hopeless as he is when it comes to playing games.

I want to blame him for pushing me away, but the truth is, I don’t trust him with my heart either.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to give it to him, anyway.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-NINE

NASH