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I need to make dinner and then study before my lecture on Monday.
My hands shake as I reach into the fridge and take out the fresh tomatoes. I carry them to the kitchen counter and grab a knife, staring down at them.
“I’m sorry, Scarlet. You deserved so much fucking more than that.”
My eyes mist.
“I miss all of those things, you know. Everything.”
“Bastard,” I mutter, chopping into the tomato.
Lance
I’m a fucking asshole.
I sit in my car, staring at the iron gates that lead to her mum’s garden, knowing I’ve just hurt her. Hating that I even have the ability to do so.
She’s supposed to hate me.
It would be easy that way. Not that it would stop me from wanting her, or needing that smile, or the way she sparks me to life simply with a look.
I push open my car door and take the steps two at a time, gently easing open the front door and stepping into the house.
I can hear her chopping something in the kitchen, and follow it, coming to a stop when I see her with her back to me at the kitchen island. Her arm works fast as she slices the veg on the wooden block.
She pauses momentarily when she senses my presence, the knife slapping the wood as it comes to a stop.
I step up behind her, but she continues again as if telling me she won’t make a move to acknowledge me.
I guess I deserve that.
My body brushes hers, and I frown at the feeling. Steadfast, I reach around and run my hand over hers, covering the knife.
She eventually lets me take it from her, dropping it onto the chopping board. My other hand lifts to move her hair from her shoulder, brushing it away.
She sucks in a sharp breath as my lips meet her neck.
I take it as a green light to move a little closer, slipping my arm around her waist.
My body ripples at her back, at the feel of her, the sweet scent of her perfume. I drag my lips over her skin, nuzzling the side of her face as my eyes drift closed.
There are no words.
And it’s not enough.
She’s the only thing that makes me feel anything anymore.
“Don’t think I’m not proud of you,” I whisper, trailing my nose up the length of her throat. “Because I am… I’m so fucking proud of you, Scarlet.”
She whimpers, and I screw my face up as pain slashes my chest.
I turn her, wrapping my arms around her neck, pulling her into me.
Eventually she hugs me, her hands running up my back and holding me just as tight.
“Lance?” she whispers, her voice wary.
I keep her in my arms, breathing her in. I didn’t realise how badly I needed her.
