Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
How couldn’t she know? I didn’t go on any dates with girls that asked me out...I never even had sex with someone, not until after she left. I was saving myself for her, waiting until she was ready, and I would’ve waited an entire fucking lifetime if I had to.
The look on her face is doleful. “I didn’t realize you wanted more until it was too late.”
There it is the proverbial slap. The confession.
“That’s bullshit, Jules,” I growl bitterly.
“No, it’s not. I was afraid, Remington. Afraid that I would lose you, my best friend. I was afraid if we crossed that line, if we jumped off the edge and it didn’t work out, that you would be gone forever. I was afraid of losing you…and then I lost you anyway so I guess it wouldn’t have mattered.”
She was afraid...fucking afraid.
I can’t even grasp onto the words that she just said.
“I loved you, Jules. I fucking loved you. Every single piece of you was embedded into my skin, and when you left a part of me died. I became bitter, angry, so fucking angry, and I’m still angry, but I’ve come to realize that the reason I’m this way has everything to do with me and nothing to do with you.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes tearfully, and I retreat a step, watching as her hand falls into the air.
“Me too,” I mutter, feeling like I might break down. I keep walking backward until my back hits the wall, and then I slide down it, holding my head in my hands.
I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.
Chapter Fourteen
Jules
I don’t know if I should go to him or stay seated on the bed. He looks as devastated as I feel. And yet all I can think about is wrapping him up in my arms and asking him if he still loves me. I want him to still love me. The need to go to him is so overwhelming I find my body moving toward his as if it’s on autopilot and something I’m meant to do.
I move to where he’s sitting against the wall and slide down it, pressing my side against his. I can hear how heavy he’s breathing, his hands are gripping angrily at the long strands of glossy brown hair.
“Rem?” I whisper, turning toward him. He doesn’t say anything. His body seeping with tension. When I came here today, I didn’t expect for this to happen. I was certain I would leave here with tears in my eyes, and I think I still might. I don’t know if Remington is okay, if he’s mad at me, at himself, at us.
He’s not speaking and I’m starting to freak out a little.
I don’t know how to fix this.
How to fix him.
“I...I can go if you want me to?” My words must shake something inside of him, because he lifts his head, and turns to look at me.
I can’t contain the gasp that escapes my lips when I see the tears glistening in his eyes.
“Don’t leave, Jules. Not tonight. Stay with me. Let me hold you. Let me pretend that I didn’t fuck everything up. That I didn’t ruin us.”
“We aren’t ruined, Rem.” Are we? I don’t know if things could ever go back to being the way they were before, if we could ever be friends like we used to be, not with all the carnage, all the heartache, but ruined? We aren’t ruined.
“Let’s go lie down on the bed. We can talk more whenever you want, but for now, I just want you to hold me.” I tug on his arm, but he doesn't move right away, and for a moment I wonder if he’s changed his mind.
Then as if he can feel the doubt creeping in around me, he gets up. I notice his eyes are swollen and bloodshot as he pulls me to my feet, and I stare up at him, completely consumed by the man before me.
Instead of walking to the bed like I expect him to do, he goes over to the dresser and opens a drawer or two, rummaging through them as if he’s looking for something. A moment later he pulls out some sweatpants and a t-shirt I’m sure he’s worn a million times.
“Will you be good sleeping in this?” he asks, handing me the shirt.
“It isn’t my Mickey one, but it’ll do.” I grin, taking the shirt from his outstretched hand.
He smiles back at me and then I watch him as he flicks the button on his jeans and pushes them down his muscled thighs. I all but swallow my tongue at the image before me. I know we were just like this the other night, but I was drugged then and had no honor or morality.
Tonight is different though...tonight I’m me, and Remmy is, well him, and we’re normal, or as normal as we can be.