Page 60 of Remember Us This Way

I pause in her doorway and glance back. “What’s up?”

“I’m really glad you’re not mad at us anymore.”

I give her a tight smile and let out a heavy breath, feeling the weight of her words slamming right against my chest, threatening to bury me right here where I stand. “I was never mad at you, Hazel. At any of you. I never could be. I was just . . . mad at myself.”

Her brows furrow, clearly not liking that. “Sooooo . . . Now that you’re back, does that mean you’re all good now? You and Zoey can go back to how it used to be?”

“Honestly, Hazel,” I say, really having to think about it. “I don’t know. I think there’s some shit that needs to be figured out before that could even be considered.”

She gives me a sad smile, and as she drops back down on her bed, I walk out of her room, giving her some peace and quiet to get back to doing whatever the hell she was doing before I barged in here.

As I make my way back down the hall, I find myself pausing in front of Zoey’s door, my hand twitching at my side.

Don’t do it, Noah. Keep walking. Don’t be that asshole. Give her space.

Damn it.

I reach for her door.

It swings wide, and I hover in her doorway just like I’d done with Hazel. Only, unlike her sister, Zoey is lost in her music, gently swaying her hips as she stands in her full-length mirror, putting her long hair up.

She spots me almost immediately, her gaze meeting mine through the mirror, the loud music fading around us. Her eyes widen for just a moment before hurt flashes within those green depths. It tears at my chest. I hate that I keep hurting her, whether it’s intentional or not.

Zoey holds my stare through the mirror, her hands falling from her hair, watching as I slowly step into her room and nudge the door closed with my foot.

Just like after the dinner, the room fills with undeniable tension and it’s as though that tether between us is tightening, physically pulling us together.

I take a step, and she shakes her head, not daring to take her eyes off mine through the mirror, but I don’t stop. How could I?

I keep going until I’m standing right behind her with my chest pressed against her back. I see the rapid thrum of her pulse at the base of her neck and notice how her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

She visibly swallows, and as her hands tremble, I skim my fingers down the length of her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps across her skin until my hand closes around hers. “Noah,” she breathes, her fingers clutching on to mine like a lifeline.

God. This feels so right.

Zoey slowly turns in my arms, and as she stands right before me, I press my fingers to her chin and lift until her sweet gaze is locked on mine. There’s a reluctance in her eyes that kills me, but it’s deserved. I’ve done nothing but hurt her, and in those times when she needed me the most, I wasn’t there.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, a crack of pain in her tone. “You should leave.”

I shake my head, both of us knowing that it would be impossible for me to walk away now. “I can’t do that.”

Zoey whimpers as though my admission physically pains her, and all I can do is curl my arm around her waist, holding her to me as though that could somehow dull the ache I’ve put in her heart. She braces one hand against my chest, and just when I expect her to push me away, her fingers bunch into the fabric of my shirt.

Zoey tugs me closer, and I can’t wait a second longer, dipping my head and closing the gap between us. My lips press against hers, and I feel her body weaken in my hold, melting against me as though she needs this just as much as I do.

A soft moan slips from between her lips as they move against mine, and when her other hand slips around the back of my neck, she deepens our kiss, taking exactly what she needs from me. Her tongue moves against mine, our lips perfectly in sync. It’s nothing like the hungry, desperate kiss from Monday night. This one is different. This one holds nothing but pure pain between us as we try to navigate our way around it, desperately clawing to find our way back to each other.

My fingers tighten on her waist, and as if having a bucket of ice water tipped over her head, Zoey stiffens in my arms. She pulls away and violently shoves against my chest, forcing me back a step as she stares at me in horror, her fingers pressed against her swollen lips.

Her chest heaves as my brows furrow, confusion sweeping through me. “What’s wrong?” I question, inching toward her. Did I hurt her? Push her too far?

“No,” she says, holding up a hand and halting my progression, fury flashing in her eyes. “Not like this.”

“Like what?”

She scoffs, and I watch as she tries to figure out the overwhelming emotions coursing through her body. “After everything,” she breathes, the fury morphing into sadness. “After all the hurt you caused over the past three years, you think you get to just walk in here and kiss me as though I still belong to you? You can’t keep doing this to me. You either want me or you don’t, but you can’t have both.”

“Zo,” I say, trying to step toward her again, only she holds up her hand to deny me.

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