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I’m only half alive.
When I left him in the UP, I needed time to process it all, but I’mdone waiting. Enough time has passed and now I just want to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Obviously, he wants to meet to chat because he sent me those messages. Several, in fact.
It has to mean something, right? It has to be somethinggood. He wouldn’t have bothered if he wasn’t interested.
I laugh at something Derek says, trying to pay attention to what he’s saying. He touches my arm, and I swear to god, any other time I’d be into him, but my mind is solely focused on Grey. I miss him. I’ve been in a pit of depression since Becca toted me away from the campground. It took everything within me not to have her turn around and drive me back. I should have. I should have fought for him harder. I should have stayed and we could have talked about it.
Instead, I just ran—and sobbed—my way back to the Lower Peninsula. I’ve spent the past two days in a fog, lying under my covers, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to do. Those pictures Becca took only cut me deeply. I stared at them for hours,remembering.
I knew going into this, pushing him like this, that something bad could happen. I knew there was a minute possibility that he’d reject me. But I didn’t realize how bad it would feel when it actually happened. I feel like a piece of me is missing.
“You wanna come over tonight? We could just chill,” Derek says, and I hold back a wince because I know that I could have him, but I don’t want to spend the night withhim. Instead, I want to drive by Grey’s house and linger out on his street, staring at his darkened windows and wishing to see his face.
I’ve done this, I admit.
I’ve lingered like a stalker in the shadows outside his house. I haven’t actually gotten out of my car, but I’ve sat there, emo music filtering through the speakers as I just communicated telepathically.
I miss you.
I almost convinced myself to go up to his porch and knock, to see if he was home, to ask him…no tobeghim to let me inside.
To let me inside of him again.
But I resisted. God, it was hard. But I kept myself in my car and didn’t fucking move. I seat-belted myself in so tight, my chest was constricted and it hurt to breathe. I got a boner and then wondered for a moment if I was into breath play.
God, maybe I am. I want to try it with Grey.
I want him to wrap those big hands around my neck and squeeze as I’m plowing into him.
It’s been four long days and I don’t think I can wait any longer. I’m going crazy.
Derek leans forward and presses a kiss to my cheek, and I rear back slightly, surprised that he did that. I hate the feeling of someone else’s lips on me. They’re not Grey’s.
I only want his. Always his.
“Hey,” I say with a small smile. I reach up and brush my hand against his cheek, trying to lessen the blow. Derek has been into me for ages, and I want to let him down softly.
“You know how I feel,” I tell him, and Derek blushes, looking contrite. “I’m sorry.”
He nods, pulling his lips between his teeth. “I had to try, you know?”
“Yeah. You gotta shoot your shot. I get that.”
I do. I did this with Grey and I won. For a few days I’d had him.
Best fucking days of my life.
My hand falls to my side, and I sigh.
“But I have to go. I have places I need to be,” I say and then step back.
And that’s when my eyes catch on a familiar object in the background—a familiar truck. So many memories in that fucking truck.
The lights flip on, and I hear the rev of the engine.
I watch as it pulls away from the curb and onto the street, driving away with all of my hopes and dreams.
Fuck.
