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My stomach twists into a knot, just like the one in my heart as Bastian adds, “His mom died.”
My throat is tight as the swell of sadness rises. I didn’t know her at all, but I knew the end had to be closer after she was moved into their house for hospice.
It’s devastating to lose your mother, whether you know it’s coming or not.
“So much death.” The words escape me slowly as I tally up the number of gravestones.
“I care more about him than any of those assholes.” Bastian’s tone is harsh and unforgiving. I peek over at him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes angrily, his feet on the floor while he still sits on the bed. I’ve never seen him look so tired, so ragged from everything and the pain of it all forces me to move closer to him, pushing the sheets and covers away to just hold him. I rest my cheek to his back and wrap my arms around him from behind.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his back and then lift myself up, so I can plant a small kiss on his neck. “I’m so sorry,” I tell him again.
I don’t know how close he was with Carter’s mom, but it doesn’t matter. He’s hurting. Lacing his fingers through mine, he kisses my inner wrist. “Are you okay?” he asks me, turning his head so he can look me in the eyes. Of all the things to ask, he wants to know if I’m all right.
His eyes are red with lack of sleep, his stubble is too long, and there are dark bags under his eyes as well. I have to slip my hand from his to cup his cheek and sit up to kiss him on his lips. A chaste, sweet kiss. My heart flutters every time I kiss him. It’s an odd feeling, like a magnetic pull to him.
I brush his lips with the pad of my thumb and whisper to him, “It’s not always about me, Bastian.” With his name on my lips, I look him in the eyes and say, “I’ll be okay.”
“You’re wrong,” he tells me, shifting to sit so he’s facing me. “It is always about you.”
His answer steals my breath, numbing me as he kisses my wrist again.
“You shouldn’t say things like that.” I can’t help but tell him as the words come to me.
His steely blue eyes catch me off guard; they pierce into me and hold me hostage as he asks, “And why is that?”
“You make me feel like I’m more to you than I am.” The words come unbidden, his simple question enough to draw the raw truth from me. I lick my lips as I blink away the haze of the spell he casts over me. Bringing my knees into my chest, I scoot away from him and wish I could take those words back.
“You’re wrong again,” he tells me, and I feel foolish.
“I know I’m an easy lay,” I tell him dully, feeling my heart squeeze in my chest. I would let him have me whenever he wanted.
“I didn't say you were. I don't do this; I don’t sleep around. I don't have girls stay over, so we're even there. So, whatever you’re thinking right now, stop it.”
Guilt rises inside of me and makes me feel sick to my stomach. This is not the time, nor the place. I can feel his gaze on me, I know he’s waiting for me to simply agree and so I swallow the spiked knot and nod, but I can’t look him in the eyes.
“You know you mean more to me than that. You’re more than that.” His conviction is unmistakable, but I don’t know that. I only know what he’s told me, which is nothing.
He never tells me anything and I let him into my life because that’s where I want him. It’s as simple as that.
Taking a steadying breath, I turn to him.
“Tell me you know that,” he commands me, and my eyes are drawn to his throat as he swallows. “Tell me you know you’re more than just a lay for me.”
“I do,” I tell him. Things have always beenmorebetween us, but why? I don’t know. And tomorrow holds no promises for me.
“I want to have someone, Bastian,” I confess to him. “Even if I may lose them one day. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” I don’t know where the words come from. Maybe it’s the fatigue that still lingers. The sadness from hearing of Carter’s mom passing. Or maybe it’s because I feel a crack in Sebastian’s armor, he’s giving me a way in to tell him exactly how I feel.
It’s too quiet as I stare straight ahead at nothing in particular, rather than at Sebastian.
He cups the side of my face and forces me to look at him. His touch is hot and his gaze even hotter as he tells me, “Then let me be that someone.”
My heart beats in slow motion.
“What am I to you?” I whisper. Because deep in my soul, I already know Sebastian is that person for me. What I don’t know is whether or not I’m that person for him.
“You were just the sad girl who looked at me like you couldn’t wait to run from me. So, I refused to chase you, Chloe. Now that I have you, I’m begging you, don’t run from me.”
I love you is on the tip of my tongue, but the strength to let the words be heard is nowhere to be found.
