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I left you on. I’m ready now. “Fuck him,” she growled again, glaring into her own eyes. But her eyes failed to convey the hurt and rage she felt. They looked plain as ever. Brown and a little weary and sad.
Because she hated herself more than him. Hated how much she wanted to sob with relief and fall into his arms. God, that would feel so good. To finally be held by him. To smell the scent of his skin, not because she was holding his jacket, but because he was holding her. She wanted to give in and cry “Thank you for coming back!”
She was disgusting. And he was an arrogant asshole. And it was too late for them, even if it had never been the right time before.
He knocked on the bathroom door and anxiety exploded through her.
“Eve, are you okay?”
“You h-have to go,” she stammered.
“Eve—”
“Please! I can’t do this, Brian. I swear, I can’t. It’s been too long and I don’t feel that way anymore. It was a mistake. It wasn’t real.”
“It was real.”
She backed away from the door, afraid he’d get past the lock and push through. If he did, if he held out his arms, she’d... “No. Please just go.”
“Come out. Please. Let’s talk.”
She shook her head, unable to push even the smallest word past her tight throat.
He was silent for a long time, then she heard a quiet vibration of sound, as if he’d put his hand to do the door. Or his forehead. “Eve, I’m begging you. I’m begging you for a chance.”
He didn’t sound like he was begging. He’d likely never done it before and didn’t know how it should be approached. He wasn’t a man who begged. But she’d begged before. She’d gotten on her knees and begged God to let things work out for them. To let her have what she wanted. And then...to let her forget she’d ever wanted it.
She knew what begging sounded like. Weak and broken and so desperate you wished you were dead. Brian only sounded determined.
“No,” she said, and it felt good for that one brief moment.
He drew a deep breath. She heard the shush of something against the wood, his forehead or fingertips or sleeve. Then he walked away. At first, his footsteps were a relief, but as they moved farther away, her relief gave way to fear. He was leaving. She heard him open the closet for his coat, then move back to the kitchen where he paused for a moment.
He was about to leave and what if he never came back? She didn’t want to love him, but the idea that she would never touch him was brand-new again in that moment. New and awful and taking over everything inside her.
She wanted him so badly it was a solid weight in her body. She wanted to touch him, taste him, let him inside her. She wanted to feel his mouth and hands and cock.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her mouth to hold back a groan of pain.
She wanted him that way. Needed it. It would never, ever leave her, as long as she lived. It hadn’t faded at all.
The front door opened. She lunged forward. She jerked the bathroom door wide, but he was gone, her door already shut and Brian out in the night.
Taking a deep breath, she rushed for the front door. When she opened it, she found him standing there, head down, his wide back filling her vision before he turned.
“One night,” she said.
“What?” Snowflakes drifted through the black behind him, glinting when they caught the light from her apartment.
She swallowed hard and made herself say it again. “One night. But that’s it. Nothing else. No love or promises or hope. Just one night to get this out of our systems.”
“That’s not going to work, Eve.”
“It has to. I’m not going to give you anything else. Just sex.”
She thought he’d be pleased with that, at least, but he looked furious. “It won’t be just sex.”
“It has to be. Take it or leave it.”
