Page 118 of Almost Ours

“Oh.” My heart races wildly. “I see.”

“What?” Josh is bewildered by the sudden change. “What do you see?”

I bend to pick up my glass and take the fattest mouthful of wine, letting it burn all the way down. “You can do relationships. You just don’t want one with me.”

“No. What? That isn’t what I was trying to say—”

“I mean, you just said it, right? You can do relationships; you’ve got a four-year stint under your belt. So, the only thing it can be is me, right? You like me but not like that? I won’t be offended, Josh. I just want some clarity.”

He stares at me as if I’ve started speaking another language. “Ruby, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m asking you a question.”

“You think I like you but not like that?”

“Well… yeah? Obviously.”

“No. Not fucking obviously. What the fuck is happening?”

“You’re the one making it confusing!”

“I’m not making that confusing.” He points between us, incredulous. “I’ve made plenty of other things confusing, I’ll give you that, but whether I’m attracted to you is not one of them.”

I stare at him over the rim of my glass. “You keep rejecting me. You keep acting like wanting me and having me are separated by some massive fucking canyon. We like being together. We spend half our lives together anyway. What is the actual problem?”

Josh paces away from me again, jaw working while he picks at the skin beside his thumbnail, wine making him looser but apparently not loose enough to stop him tying himself in knots. “If you could try and understand—”

“Stop talking in fucking riddles and give it to me straight!”

Josh whirls on me like a man possessed. “Fine!” he roars. “You want it straight? I am fucking terrified of you!”

“You’re terrified of me?” I sputter, not believing my own ears.

“Not you you, Jesus Christ.” He drags both hands through his hair so violently I’m surprised he doesn’t rip half of it out. “This. Whatever the fuck this is. You being here all the time. Me wanting you here all the time. Me knowing what your week looks like and whether you’ve eaten and what fucking mood you’re in from the way you text me. I hate it. I know it’s going to fall to shit because everything does. Then we’ll stop talking, and you won’t come here anymore, and I won’t get to see you every fucking day, and all of this—” he throws a hand between us, wild-eyed and breathing hard, “—all of this will be gone.”

“But why do you even think that? Why would that even happen?”

“Because that is life, Ruby! It’s fucking life. Teenage relationships don’t last. We wouldn’t last but we can be friends. We will last as friends! I’ll make damn fucking sure of it!”

“Do you hear yourself? You could make sure we’d last in other ways too! You just have to stop fighting it.”

“I’m not going to do that. I’m never putting myself in a position to get hurt again.”

He’s lost me, I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Hurt again? I’ve hurt you? When have I hurt you?”

“No, you haven’t hurt me.”

Realisation stabs me in the heart. “This is about your ex, isn’t it? It’s about Bonnie? She hurt you? It’s why you react like that around her?”

His head snaps back towards me. “It isn’t that simple.”

“It never fucking is with you.”

“Yeah, well. Get used to it.” He slaps his chest once. “This is what you want, right? Me? With all my issues and my fucked-up head. Isn’t this what you’re asking for? Demanding from me? Isn’t this what you fucking want, Ruby?”

“Oh, you are such a prick!”

“Exactly!”