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“I was looking for you.”
The words fall out before I can stop them. There’s truth to them, truth we both know. I was looking for him. I never stopped. Since the day he left, I’ve spent every day searching for the feeling only he can bring me, and now that he’s back…
It’s not the same.
“You found me.”
I stare at him, letting myself fully take him in for what feels like the first time. “Did I?”
His gaze slides to me, and it feels like I’m falling. Down and down the rabbit hole I go, knowing when I land, all that will be left is him.
I breathe him in. Smoke and leather. It’s new, but the same comforting underlying purely Roman scent is still there. It’ll never leave.
It’s imprinted on my soul. I’d recognize it anywhere.
“Why’d you do this?” I whisper, the words carrying more weight than they should.
Why’d you come back?
Why’d you let me love you if you knew you’d leave?
Why’d you leave?
Why did you leave?
Slowly, he brings the cigarette to his lips as he looks out at the few partygoers in the yard. “What?” His gaze stays locked forward, his face expressionless.
Leave, I almost blurt, but stop myself. “Throw the party,” I say instead. He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.
“Because I could.”
It’s not the answer I was expecting. It’s not the answer I wanted. And, even if I know he’s talking about the party, something about it feels like the answer to all my internal questions.
Why’d you leave?
Because I could.
Why’d you let me love you?
Because I could.
Why’d you come back?
Because. I. Could.
“We’re going to get in trouble,” I mutter, and he snorts another breathy laugh.
“You are.” His gaze finds me again, and my breath hitches. Instead of him feeling whatever I am, he smirks, and it’s pure arrogance.
His hand lifts as he brings the cigarette to his lips again. “I told you to quit.” I reach to bat the cancer stick from his hands, but quicker than I can react, he grabs my wrist.
My eyes widen as he shoves me backward until I hit the wall, my breath caught in my lungs as I stare up at him. He tracks me, bringing his body close enough for me to feel the searing heat of him. The cigarette hangs from his lips, his eyes a dark flame that burns me to my core.
But it’s the slight tremor in his hand, the shudder that rolls down his spine, the deep swallow that makes his Adam's apple bob…
It’s those things that give me pause.
“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” I breathe, trying to jerk my wrist from his grip. It tightens, his jaw tensing as his expression shifts.
