Page 118 of Never You

Finally, I let my shoulders hang, opening my eyes. When I look into his deep blue eyes, I see affection, something like love, I think, and even a bit of pride. His thumb brushes my jaw in slow, scorching strokes, soothing me.

“You’ve been pissing me off for five long years, but there is one thing I’ve known long before this week.” He stops for a brief moment, a smile ghosting his handsome face. “You, Rae Stafford, can do anything you put your stubborn little mind to.”

I chuckle, and when I close my eyes, tears find their way out. Bringing his thumb up, he wipes them off my rosy cheeks, then presses a kiss on my lips.

But there is a difference in his touch, like something shifted, and we leveled up. His lips entwine with mine, and a satisfied moan vibrates against my throat, as his tongue starts to dance around mine in tentative strokes.

Soft, slow, longing. A hand moves into my hair, holding my head as if he’s scared I’ll escape his touch. My heart races in my chest, at an exhilarating pace, yet it feels comforting, like coming home after a long run. A grunt comes from his lips when he breaks away, pressing his forehead against mine. His hands hold my head, compelling me to look him in the eye.

“There’s also a lot of guilt,” I confess, wanting to confide my darkest feelings to him. His brows knit together. “Before I moved to LA, my friend died. We’d been drinking all summer.”

My tears escape, and before I know it, my heart is flooded with emotions. “We all did it. We didn’t care. Drinking made me feel less. And I didn’t want to feel at all. It was wrong. I know it was.” I stare at his chest, unable to look him in the eye. “We drove home completely fucked every single day. Nothing ever happened. We always got home safe.” I pause. “Until one day, we didn’t.”

“What happened, baby?”

“Kelly, my best friend. She dropped me off at home. Then she crashed into a tree on her way home.” The words leave my lips, and I’m now sobbing against his chest. His hand cups the back of my head as he comforts me with his lips in my hair. “It was the last straw for Johnny, because that could’ve been me.”

God, he was so mad. Furious. He yelled at me with a level of rage I’d never seen from him and never have again. Told me to suck it up and be better, because that could’ve been me. And for a long time, I wished it was.

“I should’ve never let her drive home. We should’ve just walked. It was just a couple of miles. But we were young and stupid.” I shake my head, my eyes lifted to the sky. “So fucking stupid. I could’ve stopped her or let her crash in my room.Anything.”

“It’s not your fault, baby.”

“I know.” I look up at him. “But it doesn’t change the guilt I feel.”

He pushes out a breath before holding me against his chest once more. “I know, baby. I know.”

He holds me like that for a few minutes while I give my emotions the release I never have before. All my feelings and regrets come rushing out of my heart, like a flood, until finallyit’s replaced by a sense of relief. Until there is finally room for other things in my heart than just grief.

“I’m not going to New York, Rae,” he suddenly huffs, a hint of desperation clear in his voice, “I don’t want to.”

I hold still, my breath stolen away. Shocked.

“I’m not going to let you go.”

“You’re not?” I murmur, placing my hands over his.

The warmth of his hands underneath mine is encouraging, and hope starts to swell in my chest. Starts to grow my rapidly beating heart.

He softly shakes his head. “Not a fucking chance. You can tell me to leave. But I won’t. I want you. I want to be with you, and I’ll be damned if someone snatches you away in front of my eyes. You’re mine, baby. I decided,” he announces, that arrogant smirk sliding in place, “and you know I don’t acceptno.”

I snort, amused by that statement.

“What about your parents? What about the elections? What about Emily?” I do my best to keep my voice calm, but my mind is running overtime.

“Fuck ‘em. Fuck it.”

“Really?” It’s hard to believe him when he’s been doing what he’s told for twenty-nine years, but I really want to.

I want him to choose me.

I want him to stay.

I want to see where we will end up together.

“I’m done letting my life be dictated for me. I’m gonna do what I want.” He pauses, biting his lip. “And I want you. I want to see where this goes. I wantyouto bemine.”

The persistence is clear, and undeniable. And the only reason he’s still waiting for my response, my confirmation, is as a courtesy.

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