Wasted Words (32 page)

I wound my arms around her and I sat, bringing her with me, holding her up, guiding her until her knees were braced on the bed, her arms hanging on my shoulders. She needed to be in control until I knew how much of me she could take, and she seemed to understand, watching me with half-closed eyes as she shifted slowly, relaxing her thighs. Her breath was shallow, her thighs trembling, and my heart thumped against my ribs like it was reaching for her.

“Are you okay?” I muttered, barely able to think, barely able to stop myself from grabbing her hips and dragging her down my length until she hit the end.

She nodded. “So good.” The words were a breath as she sank farther onto me. I squeezed her thighs, trying to hang onto her. I tried to hang on to my breath. I tried to hang on to my heart. But she had all of me.
 

She flexed her legs and rolled her hips, dragging me in a slow circle inside of her, raising herself up before dropping down again.

I couldn’t take it.

“Cam,” I whispered, dropping my head to her shoulder, body shaking. Her arms cradled my head as she rolled, flexing again, dropping down even more. She was close, so close to taking all of me, and I was close, so close to letting it all go. I needed her, a slow need that burned so hot, I could think of nothing else.
 

Her hips rolled faster, and I cupped her breast, thumbed her nipple, held her to me as she moved faster still, squeezing me tighter, clenching around me, gasping so deep, it stole my breath. And she came, the force of her body more than I could take. She sank down to the end of me as she pulsed and flexed, her breath shallow as she muttered words of pleasure, and I grabbed her hips, lifting her, pulling her down, filling her, once, twice, until I came, my heart stopping, her name on my lips.

She sank down until there was no space between us, our bodies wound and hooked around each other so that every inch of us touched, from head to toe. My arms were around her small waist, hers around my neck, and she squeezed me tight.

We stayed that way until our hearts slowed, and she lifted her head to look up at me, her eyes full of tenderness. She touched my face and kissed me reverently. And all I could do was think about how perfect the moment was. How perfect she was.

She leaned back, pulling on my neck, and I laid her down before rolling away, separating us, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. But I headed for the bathroom to clean up as my mind began to wander through the night, through my feelings, through her feelings, tallying up what I could control and what I couldn’t.

Cam was tucked under the covers when I came back, facing the empty side of the bed, and I slipped in beside her. She shifted until her body was against mine again, our legs entwined.

I brushed her hair back, traced a path up the curve of her shoulder. “Still afraid?”

She blushed, laughing softly. “Not as scared as I was. Just be careful in the future because I read some really disturbing articles on cervical bruising that have me spooked.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful. But that’s not really what I was asking.”

Her smile fell. “Oh.” She paused for a breath. “Yes, but you make me want to be brave.”

I pulled her into my chest, feeling the pain with every heartbeat. “Cam, there’s only so much I can do. It’s all up to you. All of it. Because I’ve given you all of me. You have to do the rest. It won’t work any other way.”

Her cheek was warm against my skin, her head tucked under my chin. “I know,” she said softly.

I didn’t know what else to say, so I didn’t say anything, just held her against me, tracing patterns on her arm until she fell asleep. But sleep wouldn’t find me, not when I was consumed with worry over what tomorrow might bring. Not when I wanted the night to last as long as it could. But I thought of her promise, held on to it like it would save me, and only then did I slip away into sleep.

Cam

THE MORNING CAME TOO SOON, with the chiming of my alarm that ripped me from Tyler’s arms. It was early — seven in the morning may as well have been four for as tired as I was, the long night coming back to me slowly, emotion by emotion.

Dancing with him. Kissing him. Laughing with him. His body against mine. The promise I’d made.

I sighed, smiling over at him. He lay stretched out in my bed on his stomach, shoulders rising and falling slowly, his cheek pressed against the pillow and arms folded underneath it.

I could have stayed there all day.

He’d asked me last night to let go, and I did. I wanted to be with him more than anything. I wanted his happiness, wanted to see him look at me the way he did last night again and again.

The weekend was going to be forever long without him.

I sighed again as I slipped out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt, making my way into the kitchen to brew coffee. Tyler was off since he was leaving for Nebraska, so I dressed silently, not wanting to wake him. I turned to watch him for a moment longer and smiled, filled again with the sense of being his, of him being mine.
 

Optimism blossomed in my heart.

It was a little later than I usually woke, so I hurried out of the apartment with coffee in hand and my bag on my shoulder, popping in my earbuds as I headed for the train station. I happily replayed all the highlights from the night before, the feeling of being in his arms as he towed me around the dance floor. His smile. His body. His admissions. He was afraid just as much as I was, but instead of running away, he was running toward me.

But this was it. No more uncertainty for me, not after him begging me to choose. Not after the promise I made. There was no going back — I had to keep myself in check, because I’d used all my extra lives. It was time to put up or shut up.

Once I’d savored the best moments, my mind turned to the other events of the night. Seeing Jessica, what I’d said to her, wondering if anyone at the table had heard me. Nearly tripping and falling into Kyle. Kyle’s cold smile and his words, words that were the voice of every fear I had. Those words echoed in my mind, and as hard as I pushed, as deep as I tried to bury them, they always came back.

And deeper still my thoughts wound, into the basement of my heart, down to Will. Lying in his arms, the promises he made and broke. As long ago it was, the wound had been ripped open, fresh and raw. That mistake had changed me, a mistake I swore I’d never repeat. But I found myself breaking all the rules I’d carefully made to protect me against the very situation in which I’d ended up.

By the time I made it to work, my smile had disappeared, the lightness of my heart gone, weighed down by anxiety. The little voice in my head pointed out every shortcoming, every misstep, undermined everything until it was all caving in on me. That voice told me everything I didn’t want to hear, whispering its evil in my ear.
 

It’ll never work.

He could never really love me.

He’s lonely. I’m just keeping the bench warm.

But the way he looked at me, the way he touched me …

Maybe that’s just Tyler. It’s not me, it’s just his natural state.

But he told me he wants me.

So did Will.

He’s nothing like Will.

But he makes me feel exactly like Will did.

And that was really the core of it. I’d only felt like this about a man before once — with Will — and he destroyed me. Tyler would be exponentially worse, and I wondered how I would survive it without it obliterating my soul, turned into a nuclear wasteland.
 

My thoughts circled around and around, a carousel of broken horses to the tune of staggering self-doubt. And by the time I made it to work, my compass was spinning in circles. I barely looked at Rose when I walked into the office, the war in my heart aching, ribs sore.

“Hey,” she said.

I set down my bag, not meeting her eyes. “Hey.”

She was watching me, and I pulled out my laptop, refusing to look at her.
 

“How’d it go last night?” she asked, though I heard a hundred other questions.

“Fine,” was all I offered.

“Right. I mean, you look totally fine.”

I didn’t say anything, just picked up papers and stacked them up, moving them to a corner of my desk.

“Wow, Cam. That bad?”

My throat tightened, and I swallowed down tears. “No, it wasn’t bad at all. It was perfect. He’s perfect.”

“Then what’s the matter?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and sniffed, meet her eyes for only a millisecond before looking away. “I don’t know, Rose…” I struggled to find the words, flashes of the night before rolling through my mind. “I’m just really confused.”

“What happened?”

“We went to the party and everything was fine. Great, even. I felt right with him. But then I ran into his friend who told me — not for the first time, mind you — that I’m not for Tyler. He said Tyler was going to get bored and move on. That I’m not his type.”

She blinked, surprised. “What a dick. Why would he say that to you?”

I shrugged. “He’s not wrong.”

“I dunno. I can’t believe that Tyler would get bored and up and leave anyone.”

“I don’t belong in the same universe as him. Caring about him isn’t enough, Rose. I’m not enough. Being with him last night just proved it. You should have seen his ex. You know that meat sock dress I tried on the other day?”

Her nose wrinkled. “Yeah.”

“Well, she had on the Armani version of it, and she looked like she walked off the cover of Vanity Fair.”

“So?”

I shook my head. “You don’t understand, Rose. Look at you. You’re beautiful and edgy and smart, and guys love you — I mean, you legit have one of the hottest guys in Manhattan plowing you with his pierced dick.”

A laugh shot out of her. “Oh, my God.”

“But that’s not me,” I said, forging on. “I don’t date the hot guys. I did that once and I got burned. I get the guys who are prematurely balding and play Diablo, not the beautiful ex-football players. I’m way out of my league, and when he realizes it, when he leaves me …” I swallowed again, my nose burning. “I don’t think I can recover from that, Rose.”

“So you end it before it’s begun?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to end it.”

“No, but if you keep this up you won’t have a choice. You have
Tyler Knight
tripping all over himself to convince you that he wants to be with you. What’s the problem here?”

“Me.” I said sadly.
 

Rose rolled her chair over to the file cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Maker’s. “You need a drink.” She rolled back and picked up my empty coffee cup, wiping the inside off with her sweatshirt sleeve before pouring a finger of whiskey.

“It’s eight in the morning, Rose.”

“So what?”
 

She held it out like it was medicine, and I took it with a sigh. It burned when I sipped it.
 

“Ah, ah. Drink up, kid.”

I rolled my eyes and took the shot, eyes pinching shut against the heat.
 

“Okay,” she said, “so I want to know two things. First, did you tell Tyler what his friend said? And second, what happened to you before that messed you up so bad?”

I rubbed my face, hating myself. “No, I didn’t tell Tyler what he said. What good would it do?”

“For as smart as you are, you’re being a real dummy,” she said flatly, with love. “He would want to know. Wouldn’t you want to know if someone warned him off of you?”

I sniffed. “Yeah.”

“You have to tell him, even if it’s only so he can tell you it’s not true.”

“You really think it will help?”

“Absolutely. Now tell me about whatever else has you twisted up.”

I blew out a breath. “You know how I’m all about sorting people?”

She nodded.

“Well, I think really I’ve been sorting myself, trying to keep myself safe from getting hurt again.” I told her all about Will, about the shame, about how I felt like such a fool while she sat and listened, eyes sad.

When I was finished, she didn’t say anything, not right away. She grabbed my coffee cup and reached for the whiskey again. “You need another drink.”

She passed it over, nodding at me when I hesitated.

I sighed and took a sip, and I was glad she didn’t make me shoot it again.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you something, and I need you to hear me.”

I nodded.
 

She leaned forward. “Come closer.”

I leaned forward too, cracking a hint of a smile.

She looked me dead in the eye and said, “Tyler is not Will.”

I swallowed hard.

“Do you hear me? He’s not Will. The rules you made? The shelves people belong on? You’ve created them yourself. You’ve built your own prison out of something imaginary, and you ended up hurt anyway.”

Tears welled up, and I blinked them back. “You’re right,” I said quietly.

“Yes, I am.” She sighed. “You need to talk to him.”

I sank back into my chair. “We’ve talked it to death, Rose.”

“Well, then talk to its ghost. You can’t just pack it up and shut him down. Did you guys …”

I nodded, feeling sick at the thought of bringing it up to him again.
You promised.
“Last night. It was …” I blinked against the stinging in the corners of my eyes. “He’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“I still don’t see a problem here.” Her gaze was hard as she waited for an answer I didn’t have.
 

“I told you. I’m a mess. I’m hung up on a million stupid things, and it’s making me crazy. And my crazy is hurting him. I don’t know what to do, how to make it right. I mean, how do you rationalize something that’s irrational? I feel completely out of control.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing, Cam. You don’t always have to hang on to control. What happens when you let go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe you fly.”

“Maybe I fall.”

“Sure, but maybe you
fly.
Isn’t it worth the risk? You’re sabotaging yourself, and you’re doing it by the rules you set up to protect yourself.”