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“Ross…” She wanted to tell him that she was sorry, but she didn’t want to say the word, because it sounded so final, so grim, so ugly. “She’ll make it. They’re good at treating cancer now. And there’s experimental treatments. Places in Mexico or Europe where they have better drugs-”
“Yeah,” he cut her off, but the word had no power behind it. It was more just a rush of breath than any real agreement, devoid of all hope.
He raked a hand through his hair, then brushed it along his temple, leaving a dark, bloody streak there. Her heart hitched. Ached. Stopped. Restarted.
She’d put four years of distance between them, hoping to leave Ross in the past. Hoping to move on. Hoping to forget. She’d had one taste of him and instead of being able to put it all aside, she burned furious, bright, bright enough to consume them both. This was her Ross. The boy she’d admired when she was just a kid herself. The boy she’d looked up to. Ross, her first crush. Ross, her always crush. The very same Ross who she’d tortured herself watching live his life without her, at least not in that way. He’d dated so many other girls. He was the high school football team’s quarterback. He was the most popular kid in school. He could do no wrong. Teachers gave him better grades so he could keep playing football, he was that good. He was tough. He was untouchable. He was everything she wanted but would always be just out of reach.
He was still the same Ross. The Ross who everyone saw and thought they knew, but who no one truly knew at all. The Ross with a soft heart beneath all the charisma and the bravado and the asshole, nonchalant, hero act. The Ross that never made himself vulnerable with anyone because that was probably his biggest fear. Wasn’t it everyone’s? Letting someone into the very core of them? Opening themselves up to the possibility of being forever shattered?
It was hers. She’d tried. She’d tried to tell him, that night before prom. To explain. It all came out wrong. She’d hurt herself and she’d hurt him in the process. Only, she’d never stopped to realize just how badly she’d scarred his heart with her stupid request. She hadn’t stopped to see his side of things. To realize, that, beneath that exterior, there was a heart that was so much more bruised and fragile than she ever would have known. Than anyone would have known or guessed.
“Ross…” She tried again, but the words wouldn’t come. Probably because there was nothing to say.
When he shifted, she turned to study him. The agony on his face broke her, shattered her, put her back together all wrong. This was a Ross she didn’t know. A Ross she’d never seen.
His hands came up, the knuckles bruised and bloody, the palms smooth and lined. She’d touched him so few times over the course of her life. Only when necessary. Or in play. Never like this.
Those hands, strong hands, blazing with heat and life, a little rough at the fingertips, cupped her cheeks. She didn’t pull away. Not when Ross tugged her to him. Not when he smashed his lips to hers.
The kiss was sad. It was sad and it was desperate. It was starving and hungry and vital, and still, she couldn’t stop. It was wrong. It was all wrong. This wasn’t how she wanted him but then again, the alley wasn’t how she wanted him either, and she’d more than let it happen.
He wanted comfort, not her. He wanted assurance, not her. Not Alix. She was there. She was just there at the wrong place at the right time. She knew they were both going to hurt after. Worse than they were already hurting, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t shove back and give him a lecture about all the reasons it was wrong, and they couldn’t.
Instead, she drowned herself in him. Lost herself in his kiss. The feel of his tongue on hers. The warmth of his mouth. The sweet softness of his lips. The way his hands felt on her face, holding her there while he plundered her mouth. The metallic bloom of blood and the sharp sting when he bit her. The soothing of his tongue over the wound as he licked it away. The moans he ate up. The groans she swallowed down her own throat.
It was bliss. It was heaven. It was a lie and it was the truth. It felt so right, even if it was all wrong.
She let him blister her mouth before she broke away, panting. “Ross, we can’t. I can’t. Not like this. This isn’t what you need. This- you’re hurting. You’re scared. Everything is falling apart. You need a friend. I know that’s not me. That it’s always been Chance, but if you need it, I’m here. I’ll stay.”
