Page 95 of Just This Once

“Hey, slow down.” I dug my heels in and slowed us to a stop. Annoyance rippled over Whip’s features. I hated that I didn’t understand why. There was still so much about the man in front of me that I didn’t fully understand. When we dove in headfirst, we’d been temporary, at best. Then before I knew it, he’d become the center of my world.

Part of that felt soright, all the while I actively ignored the ping of warning bells at the back of my mind. The same ones that reminded me of this familiar pattern. But something shifted the other night when we’d made love. He hadn’t told me he loved me, but there was an intensity to him that was unmistakable.

Would he still care about me if I had to leave? Why in the world wouldn’t he replace me with something—someone—easier and closer to home?

I wanted him to beg me to stay. If he only said the words, I’d do it.

The pleading that seeped into my eyes was uncomfortable. I wanted to scream at him that I loved him. Terrified of being that vulnerable, I held back.

Maybe it’s not enough.

I worried that carving out a piece of myself, leaving behind everything I had worked for would only rot us from the inside.

Whip sighed and held my hand, not saying the words I so desperately needed to hear. He shook his head. “Turns out I can make a mess of things just like Dickie Johnson.”

My brows pinched together. “What?”

He shook his head in dismissal and headed toward his truck. “Maybe he was the better choice after all.”

He winked but instead of feeling the playful zip, my chest hollowed. “Why would you say that?”

He didn’t look my way. “I was just kidding.”

“Fine.” I scoffed, feeling wrung out and annoyed. “Just make a joke to avoid the mess.”

When we reached his truck, he wrenched the passenger-side door open. “It’s no joke. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

A rush of emotion washed over me, too tired to beat the feelings back down. Tears swam in my eyes as I stood in front of the open door but didn’t get in. Understanding of the man in front of me finally came into focus. “You know what? Fine. I think I do finally believe you.”

His hand dropped, but his defenses were visibly rising as he crossed his arms. “And what’s that, Prim?”

I bit down to keep from crying. After a steadying breath, I finally looked him in the eyes. “I can’t make you want to see the good in yourself. Sure, I might not always be the best at showing my feelings, but I would be the best at caring for the man you hide from the world, and I can only do it if you stop hiding.”

His arms spread wide. “I’m not hiding. I’m right here. Maybe you just don’t like what you see.”

I scoffed as hurt morphed into anger and bubbled inside me.“Somehow it always boils down to me, doesn’t it?”

“I didn’t––” Whip sighed. “Prim, come on.”

I shook my head. “No. As soon as things get hard or ugly, you’re pulling back.”

His eyes reflected dismay and irritation. “I’mthe distant one?”

His words were a slap in the face––too close to accurate for me to not feel hurt.

And next thing you know, he’ll find someone less closed off.

Gathering my courage, I brushed past him. “I’m going to stay at my apartment tonight.”

“Why?” It was impossible to ignore the annoyance and panic in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry I said that––I’m just having a bad night.”

I sniffed and hated myself for it. “It’s fine. I just need a little space to think. Don’t make this a big deal.”

Whip slammed the passenger door closed. “Itisa big deal. If you haven’t noticed, you’ve become mywholedeal, and now you’re acting like I’m some needy boyfriend.”

My control was slipping, and my voice cracked into the night. “Look, I am tryingso hardhere!”

He shook his head as sadness seeped over his handsome face. “That’s the thing, Prim. You don’t have totry.”

---