Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Don’t,” I warned, shaking my head.
“Come here.”
“Please, don’t touch me.”
“How can I not?” he asked, stepping toward me with purpose. “You’re hurting, and it’s killing me, and I don’t know how to fix it other than to pull you into me and try to shield you from whatever it is that’s bringing you pain.”
“It’s you!”
The words were too loud, too raw, and more tears flooded my eyes as they lingered between us.
I sniffed, wiping my face and sucking in a cold breath. “Can’t you see that?” I asked, quiet this time, my voice something of a whimper or a plea. “It’s you who brings me pain. It’s you who is killing me. It’s you, and us,” I added, motioning between us. “It’s this thing that never was, but always is, that never will be and will never not be.”
The air around us stilled, even the soft distant sound of the waves quieting, as if the entire world decided to stop spinning for this one specific moment.
And Tyler looked like I’d just socked him in the jaw.
I shook my head, face contorting with emotion. “I have tried to forget you, Tyler. For seven long years, I ran from you, and from that day, and from all those years we had together. I thought I’d grown. I thought I’d left you behind. I thought I’d succeeded in forgetting you, in giving the fantasy of us up.” I choked on a sob, covering my mouth with one hand as my eyes blurred again. “But all it took was one trip. One time coming back here — to this place, to you — and it’s so painfully clear that I wasn’t even close.”
“Jaz…”
“I just want to hate you,” I said, desperation splitting my chest open, and in the next breath, Tyler’s arms were around me.
I shoved at his chest, trying to put distance between us, but he held me tighter. I shook my head and cried and pushed, but it was no use.
His arms around me were unyielding, pressing, tight and secure and warm.
And when I finally gave in, collapsing into him, another sob racking my chest, I submitted to every painful, shameful, horrendous emotion.
“Please,” I begged, fisting my hands in his shirt to hold him closer but still trying to shove him away. “Please, just make me hate you.”
Tyler’s knuckles found my chin, and he tilted it until I was staring up at him through wet lashes. Just the sight of the pain in his eyes made another surge of emotion assault my chest, and I winced, rolling my lips to fight off more tears.
“Only if you make me hate you first.”
Tyler stilled when the words came from his lips, and I tilted my head, confused.
But before I could ask him what he meant, he grabbed my chin and crashed his mouth to mine.
That kiss… that connection of lips, of heat and want, of regret and longing, of a past life and a present one — it hit me like an anvil to the chest.
My next breath was stolen, and I’d barely registered that Tyler was kissing me before his tongue skated against my lips, seeking access, and I opened, letting him in like there was no other option.
There never had been.
It had always been him. It had always been us. And that kiss — that passionate, painful, bruising kiss told me that he knew it, too.
Is this a dream again? Am I about to wake up?
My question was answered with Tyler’s grip around my waist tightening, and I whimpered as he bit down on my bottom lip, sucking it inside his mouth before he was kissing me again. I was still completely breathless, shocked and scared and knowing we should stop but so damn turned on that I knew I never would.
I should have shoved him back. I should have slapped him. I should have turned around and run and never looked back.
But I held onto him like he was all I needed, all that mattered, and we spiraled together into the darkness we’d created.
Our own little personal hell.
Every moment after that was a flash, a blur, defying physics and gravity and every law of science there was. Time jumped and skipped, and I registered our movement in tiny specs.
Hands everywhere, lips hot and wet as we climbed the stairs.
A shock of pain up my back when he slammed me into the door that led into the house, and a cool rush of air when we tumbled inside it.
A zing of warning down my spine when he grabbed my hand and tugged me up, stopping every few seconds to capture my mouth with his again, as if he worried that even one full minute without contact would be enough for me to wise up and change my mind and stop all of this.