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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Laura
Knock, knock, knock.
Ilo—adored Zach, but Ididn’tthink Ihad it in me to go through another night like yesterday. Not because Iminded him sleeping over; it’dbeen nice to have his arm around me at night. Icouldn’t, however, bear seeing him this heartbroken and hurt, not again.
It’dbeen atough pill to swallow, seeing him last night when Istill needed to internalize the fact we were done. No more hugs, no more kisses, not even sharing stories after along-ass day at work. It broke my heart realizing the only times I’dsee him would be at random brunches with Erin and Thomas and I’dhave to pretend like he meant nothing to me.
I’dneeded just one more lousy day where I’dpretend my world hadn’tbeen turned around by this friend Ilonged to savor. Aday where I’dprefer him over proving two people who couldn’tcare less about me that they’dbeen wrong for calling me afailure.
One. Day.
“Laura, don’tfreak out, it’sme.” He paused. “Not drunk.”
Iwiped an annoying, stupid, idiotic tear from my cheek and trudged to the door. Ilet down my ponytail, passed my fingers through my hair, and pushed back my shoulders, standing in front of the door, hoping Ilooked better than Ifelt. Last impressions counted just as much as the first ones.
“Hey,” Igreeted him, setting my eyes on the handsome man that stood at my doorstep. He had alight gray suit on, with awhite shirt, thin, navy-blue tie, and short, dark stubble. “What are you doing here? And why aren’tyou using your key?”
“Aren’tyou full of questions.” His wide and partly sad grin mirrored mine.
He caressed my cheek, the smell of his cologne and clean clothes imprinting themselves into my memory. They would forever be attached to him.
Ihid my sigh as Ilet him pass, giving him my profile.
Zach stepped forward and leaned down, leveling our gaze and inching closer. An electric pulse surrounded the air between us the moment before he brushed his lips against mine, startling and all-consuming. Igasped when he captured my lips for one sweet second.
Iengraved this precious kiss on another box in my head, filing it underkisses no one could ever outmatch.
“Ididn’twant to use my key after last night.” His mouth curved to the side when I, for lack of abetter description, glared at him starry-eyed. “Kinda felt like Ilost my privileges.”
The memories of yesterday and what he said flooded back, and Isobered up from swooning over him. “You came over to talk about that? About yesterday?”
Leaning into the kitchen island with one arm, he tapped his fingers on the counter. He seemed nervous, alook Ididn’trecognize on him. His nervousness made me nervous.
“Icame to see my friend.”
When my question went unanswered, it sparked ashred of hope in me that he could’ve forgotten about what he said. The counter tapping could’ve been asong he was playing in his head.
Clinging to that hope, Iopted for reminding him what we were. Isauntered to where he stood, swaying my hips from side to side while sliding my hand to his. Zach’seyes perused my movements, my flower printed T-shirt and white shorts he knew so well. They flared when Islid both palms up to his chest.
He cupped my cheeks and dragged me in, my arms bending, my feet scraping the floor with the abrupt pull. My lips parted up for him, my tongue joining his. Zach kissed me on and on, devouring my mouth and holding me tight.
My pulse quickened, my muscles coiled, eager to settle into our routine and forget about these feelings that hurt him and me so badly. This was good, this was us. We cared for each other, we shared great kisses, we had even better sex.
Unable to contain this lust that brimmed from my toes up to my eyes, Itrailed my hands up his shirt and to the sleeves of his suit, working on removing them.
“Laura.” He stopped me, wrapping his fingers around mine gently, breaking our kiss. He sounded alot like the day Iwoke up next to him in the middle of the night. “Ineed to say something, Ireally do, and Ican’tdo it when you touch me like that.”
The look of disappointment in my eyes met his resigned one. It became all too clear that Ihad failed. That the time had come to let him go even if Iwasn’tready. And Iwasn’t, not by along shot.
“Sure.” Istepped back, sliding around him to the cupboards and already pulling out two glasses. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“No, thanks.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and blew out air from lips that were swollen from our kiss, from what seemed like ages ago. “Can we sit?”
“Yeah.” Iswallowed, yet made no move toward the living room. Ididn’twant to sit, didn’twant to talk. Not about what he had planned for us anyway. What Idid want to do, ached to do, was stay in my place and tell him to get out of my house and think carefully about what he was about to say.
Because on that evening, Zach was sober. He had no excuses, and neither of us could take back the words that would’ve been spoken. Whatever would come out of that beautiful mouth of his would’ve been as final as aPolaroid picture.
