Page 51 of Hate It with You

Every time we touch each other, it’s like we’re desperate to burn the map of our bodies into each other’s minds. Every time we kiss, a fire is ignited within me, an effortless passion flowing freely between us that fails to dim. No matter how hard I try to ignore it.

We continue to lose ourselves in the kiss. This kiss is different from the first one we shared a few weeks ago. An invisible pull tugging inside me as he kisses me, no rush to push this further as we take each other in.

“Alex, wait, I need to tell you something,” I say breathlessly as I force myself to pull my lips from his. Despite our connection, whatever this is, something gnaws in the back of my mind that I can’t ignore.

His eyes widen for a split second before they soften and he says, “What is it?” He’s pulled back, though his hands stay glued to my waist. My legs refuse to leave their home wrapped around his hips.

“What you said the other day, about the Mustang. About how the world falls silent around you when you drive. How it centers you,” I continue, painfully aware of my foremost walls breaking down at his sheer existence.

He nods, the corners of his mouth ticking up slightly as he continues to listen intently. His thumbs move back and forth lightly on my waist. The motion is overwhelmingly soft and comforting that I continue with my confession.

“You asked me before why I chose this, a bookstore.” I motion around us to my store. “It’s much the same reason, really. Losing myself in a good book, the world around me falls silent.”

I glance up at him, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing, “But there’s another layer to it too. Books are constant, never changing, predictable. Sure, there are different genres, different stories, whatever. But once the words are written, the words don’t change. The characters don’t change. Their actions don’t change. I can pick up the same book again and again, and the same characters will fall in love, the same characters will be best friends.” I pause as I stare out into the store, looking at the shelves. “Life is unpredictable. Most people never get their happy ending. With reading, especially romance, I know there’s a guaranteed happy ending for the characters. It’s the perfect escape from the harsh realities of the world, and I don’t know…” I shrug. “I guess I wanted to share the love I have for reading with other people.”

Halfway through my long-winded confession, Alex stopped moving his thumbs on my hips. He’s gone silent at my words, causing an itching sensation to run up my spine as I anticipate his next move.

Something I wouldn’t have to do if this were a book. Unfortunately, in reality, I can’t just read the next line and move on with the story. So I’m stuck, staring at Alex, begging the universe to convince him to respond soon.

Finally, his hands squeeze my hips lightly. “That’s beautiful.” There’s a small crack in his voice as he says the words. A silent moment of understanding passes between us before he leans down and softly presses his lips to mine again.

The softness of his kiss spreads a warmth through my chest that I’ve only ever read about in books. The feeling is so new that all I can do is mirror his motions, kissing him back with the same gentleness with which he kisses me.

His forehead touches mine as he pulls away. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Beth.” His words are simple, but the tender way he says them tells me he’s genuine, grateful that I’ve shared a piece of me with him. A piece of myself that he’s quietly promising to keep safe.

Pulling back from the kiss, I snicker, fighting back the prickling sensation behind my eyes. “I thought it was only fair, given what you shared with me.”

Taking a step away, Alex pulls me down from the counter, my body clinging to him the same way two magnets are pulled toward one another. He places his knuckle under my chin, lifting as he looks down at me. “I’d love it if you could share more pieces of yourself with me. When you’re ready.”

Not trusting the tears behind my eyes to stay put if I were to talk, all I do is nod before placing a gentle kiss to the palm of his hand. His silver ring cools my warmed cheek when he brushes his thumb across it, wiping away a tear I didn’t notice had been set free.

After spending another moment together in the bookstore, we head upstairs for the night. As we’re ascending the steps, Alex’s voice sounds from behind me, the paper bag of books crinkling in his hand as he moves. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I know I’m not Leo, but I can make a mean steak.”

I’m smiling at his offer, ready to accept, consequences be damned, when I reach the top of the steps, and my eyes land on my front door. My stomach churns, a tingling sensation overtaking my legs when I notice the note taped to the old wood.

Treading carefully toward my apartment, cautious that someone could jump out from behind it at any moment, a bead of sweat forms on my brow.

I rip the note from the door, a scratching sound echoing in the empty hallway. My chest tightens as I slowly open the note, doing my best to control my shaking hands.

I should be used to these notes by now, but I refuse to accept this as my new normal. Especially when I read the words written on the paper, my worst fear beginning to come true.

Making new friends, I see. Careful, Elizabeth. It’d be a shame if he got caught in the crossfire.

No, no, no.

Visions of the last time I dared to date a man flash in my mind. It was early high school. My boyfriend at the time found a particularly nasty bruise on my shoulder halfway through a deep make-out session. Unfortunately for him, he was also an athlete, so he wouldn’t accept the normal excuse I usually gave when questioned about my injuries.

Next thing I knew, he was being thrown out of the house, landing on his tailbone on the front lawn, put there by my abuser. When I stepped out to check on him, all he had to say was that I wasn’t worth the trouble.

He was dating someone else two days later.

I don’t know how, but he’s watching me. Aware that Alex and I are… acquainted with each other.

What had my lunch turning over in my stomach was how he got this note on my front door. My hands tremble as I stare down at the note, questions running through my mind. A loud voice screams at me from inside my head.

He’s getting closer.

This is exactly why I can’t get close to Alex. I don’t know what I was thinking, opening up to him tonight, but by doing so, I’ve just put him at risk. I’d never wish the hurt that I’ve experienced on anyone, especially on Alex.