Page 39 of Wright Kind of Trouble

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“I know,” I told her. “I know.”

“Do you? Are you sure? Because right now, it feels like you’re toying with me, Chase.” She wrapped the jacket tighter around her. “And it’s frankly fucked up. I thought we had something real, and now, you’re playing me like a yo-yo. Do you want me? Do you not want me? Is it only fun when you can knock me off-balance? What is it?”

“What we had was real. It is real,” I corrected. I took a step away from her to give her the space she deserved. “And I’m sorry. I fucked up. It’s just…I do want you. I do miss you.”

“But we can’t be together?”

“It’s a bad idea,” I said, drawing every word out of myself like removing a barbed knife from my stomach.

“Right.” Her voice was clipped and disinterested. “Sure. A fine idea to kiss me whenever you feel like it, but not to be more.”

I brushed a hand back through my hair and released a puff of frosted air. “You’re right. That’s fucked up.”

“It is.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“You sure?”

I nodded, feeling the life leaving my body at the thought. But I had to be resolute. No more Wright events. No more chances to see her. No more wanting just one more kiss. This was it. This was the end. I’d thought it ended that day when I discovered her age, but this was the real end.

“I’m sure. I’ll stay away. I can’t imagine why I’d be invited to another Wright event.”

“You weren’t invited to this one,” she reminded me.

“True. Then, I guess it’s moot. I’ll steer clear. Make it easier for both of us.”

Her bottom lip came out into a little pout that made my heart ache. I wanted to suck it into my mouth and make it all better. But, Christ, she was ten years younger than me. She needed her own life. And if I kept showing up to places where she was, I was only going to drive us both insane.

“Easier,” she whispered. “All right. We should shake on it.”

I would’ve laughed if she hadn’t looked so shaken up. But still, I held my hand out. For a second, she stared at it and then slowly withdrew her hand from inside the warmth of my wool suit coat.

Our hands brushed together, and she squeezed tight, powerful. The way my old man had trained me to close business deals.

It didn’t change the fact that the mere contact sparked between us. An ember to light a bonfire. I wanted nothing more to go back on the deal we’d just struck and pull her into me. This was the end. I needed to stop wanting her. I had to let go.

She slowly removed her fingers from mine. “I guess I should give you your jacket back.”

“I’ll walk you back inside,” I offered. “You can give it to me once you’re in the warmth.”

“And you?”

“I’ll leave,” I told her.

She nodded, swallowing. The anger that had rushed through her dissolved into melancholy I understood all too well.

“It’s really over,” she whispered.

I didn’t want to agree. I wanted to hang on to her forever. I’d stupidly asked her to wait for me. To wait until she graduated and she could make an informed decision about what she wanted. It wasn’t fair to expect her to know now. And being around each other only muddied the waters.

So, I nodded because the words were stuck to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter.

“And we won’t see each other again?”

“That’s what’s best.”

---