Page 128 of In Your Wake

Mitch busies himself with gathering some tissue and scrubbing my bare stomach clean, but with my blood still pumping, my muscles relaxed, and my head in a haze, I watch him with a permasmile etched on my face. I’ve had some good sex before, but nothing like this. Nothing that was not only physically satisfying, but that also stirred my soul.

Once he’s cleaned me up, he tucks himself away, but that’s when I realize not once have his eyes met mine. Not once has he spoken.

A heavy pit settles in my stomach. I grab him by the shirt and pull him toward the bed, but he steps back and suddenly, I’m all too aware of how naked I am.

“What’s wrong?” I sit up and bend my legs, hugging my knees to my chest.

“This,” he says. “You and I.” The bed dips under his weight when he sits down, but his wide back is very much still aimed at me.

“What about us?”

He glares at me over his shoulder. “Is that all this is? Friendship?”

“That’s all it can be.”

“Friends who fuck when they’re angry?”

“More like help each other out when they need something.”

“Oh, so you were just scratching an itch?”

“Seems to me you scratched yours pretty good, too,” I shoot back, scooting off the bed.

While I get dressed, Mitch runs his fingers through his hair and lets out an exasperated sigh. He moves to the closet and slides some shirts aside.

Though blocked by his large frame, I know exactly what’s on the back wall behind him—M & M 4 Life. Words I assumed someone would have painted over by now.

“It’s not just an itch, Max. Not for me,” he says, hanging his head. “This means more.”

I roll my eyes, but faint quivers roll beneath my skin. “We’re both in a weird place right now. We can’t trust how we feel.”

“I can.” Anger floods every plane of his serious but beautiful face. “We’re not friends.” The words slide out of his mouth with a disgusted snicker. “I won’t keep doing this.”

I giggle, but there’s nothing funny about any of this. It’s just nervous energy. Like once during a high school exam, when Mitchell ran by the classroom and I burst out into a fit of laughter and almost got kicked out. This is yet another example of how much Mitchell has affected my everyday life and how, even without knowing it, he was there when I needed him to be.

“You mean you won’t keep fucking me whenever the urge hits you?” I spit, but my lower lip betrays me and trembles. “You’re leaving soon, so I’m not too worried about this going on any longer than it has.”

I reach into my purse and find a hair tie, gathering my hair into a messy knot.

He closes the distance between us in two steps.

“This is breaking me apart inside. You need to know…” He lays his hands on my shoulders, a firm weight, and digs his thick fingers into my skin. It’s not meant to hurt, but meant to show how serious he is.

Unwilling to look at him, I stare at my feet, holding back tears. I know what’s coming, but refuse to hear it and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the warning out of my strangled throat. “Don’t, Mitch.”

“I’m in love with you, Max,” he blurts, ignoring my low plea.

A breathy laugh tumbles from my lips. “Stop it.” I shove his arms away. The magnitude of the heartache around us comes crashing down on me, and I pause, taking deep breaths, trying to still my pounding heart. “Your dad just died. We’re all messed up about it, but please don’t turn this into something bigger than it is. Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

His expression drops as if I’ve punched him in the gut. “I mean every word. More than I’ve ever meant anything.” He crouches, bringing his eyes level with mine. “Look at me,” he orders, but I refuse, darting my gaze away. He pinches my chin with two fingers, tilting my head back. “Look me in the eye and tell me if I’m lying.”

As long as I can, I resist, but eventually succumb. The lack of sunlight and dark clouds turn his eyes’ unique shade of green into something gray, something sad, but still striking. Like moss in the woods after a rainstorm. His pupils dilate, and I see what he wants me to. See what’s undeniable and what I longed for years ago, but what I’m not sure I can accept today.

He brushes a loose strand of my hair back, tucking it behind my ear.

“You were the one I thought of when I woke up in the morning and the one I couldn’t wait to call when I had news, good or bad.” His hand travels down my arm, and he takes mine, laying it over his heart. “Nobody, not even the guys, has meant more to me than you.” He frowns, running the knuckles of his free hand across my cheek, wiping away a tear. “It’s the truth.”

“We were kids.” Speaking is too hard, and I can’t find the strength to tell him I felt the same.