Page 42 of Unforgivable

“Fuck, I don't know, Rhys! There you were, this guy I was trying so hard to break, andyouwere getting tome. You proved me wrong on almost every thought I had about you. I thought you were a weak, boring twat who got his rocks off acting superior to people stronger than him. But I was wrong. You were strong and funny and insightful, and no matter what I did or said, you still fought to put me in my place.You refused to back down. It was infuriating as hell, but also impressive. I think I hated that the most,” I admitted on a mirthless laugh.

He sat there stunned, processing everything I had copped to. I was embarrassed by all I had told him, but it was worth it if it meant he would stay. I needed him to stay.

His cheeks flushed with color as he gave me a sheepish look. “Why did you…I mean, when you…”

He stumbled over his words, but clarity hit me about what he wanted to know.

“Why did I touch you all those times?” I hedged, the deepening blush on his skin giving me my answer. He just nodded and avoided my eyes. “In all honesty, the first time I just wanted to see if I could get away with it. Do something that would really throw you off and give me an idea how much I could fuck with you…”

Rhys' jaw dropped open and he looked mortified. I felt like such shit watching him wrestle with that truth.

“And seeing how…responsive you were, I knew that was the best way to…get to you. I know how sick that is, but it was anger and hatred that just went too far. I am so sorry Rhys,” I begged him to try to understand.

He was bright red and I saw the glassy evidence of his tears. I felt sick to my stomach. The thought of him hating me now made me want to smash my fist into the wall, the strength of that realization freaking me out.

“So…it didn't mean anything to you? You didn't…feel anything?” His voice had dropped so low that I almost missed his words. My gut clenched and my palms grew sweaty. He was asking me for answers that I had buried deep and avoided for weeks. Every sensation and emotion he had pulled out of me each time I touched him rushed back, nearly making me dizzy with the force of it.

I thought about his moans, his pulse pounding as I stroked him. I remembered his gasps and desperate pleas that had made my blood run hot. I could almost feel his length pulsing in my grip, his velvet throat sucking me down.

I couldn't lie and say I felt nothing with him. The truth was with Rhys, I had never felt more alive.

“I felt…” I started without knowing how to formulate a response to what he asked. I wasn't ready to let him know how much he affected me. I could only take so many revelations today before I broke. Rhys just looked at me expectantly, hope apparent in those stunning violet orbs and my heart beat rapidly against my ribcage.

How the fuck is he able to pull these reactions out of me so easily? I should walk away and leave him as a blip on my radar, but…I can't let him go.

“You felt…what?” Rhys pressed. My skin buzzed with energy and my vision narrowed until all I could see was him. Just like the other times he was near, the urge to touch him pulsated through me even though I had denied it to myself every time. I wanted to run my hand over his body until goosebumps chased my touch across his skin. I ached to brush my lips across the pale expanse of his throat and hear his breath catch.

It was as if the moment I allowed myself to see him in a different light, the latent attraction I had for him exploded. It barreled into me, shining a light on all the parts of him that were mesmerizing in their appeal. I wanted to run my fingers through those silky locks, kiss those pillowy lips that were trembling. I wanted to squeeze his tight, fuckable ass and rut against his lean, long body until he fell apart against me.

Well. It's official. I am 100% so fucking screwed.

“I felt…a lot more than you think,” I murmured, unable to profess anything more. Disappointment bled into the hope on his face, and I hated myself a bit more. “God, I am so sorry I pushed you like that, Rhys. You didn't deserve that. None of it,” I choked out.

“You didn't exactly push me,” Rhys muttered, looking anywhere but at me. “I could have said no if I wanted, but…it felt too good to stop, and I hadn't had that in a long time.”

I could tell his admission was embarrassing for him, but I was stuck on what he was implying.

“Wait, so you…you've done things like that before? I mean, you're not…” I trailed off, my pulse kicking up in anticipation of his answer. I hadn't known until that moment how I had secretly wished I was the only one to ever touch him like that, who had ever drawn pleasure from that sweet body of his.

Jesus, whoamI right now? Is my drink spiked or something? Damn!

Rhys rolled his eyes, trying to mask how humiliating this line of conversation was for him. “No, I'm not a virgin. And yes, I've done things like that before. I mean, obviously notjustlike that, but you know what I mean.”

My brain was all white noise and something dangerous thrummed in my veins. “With whom?” I blurted out.

He looked almost as surprised by my outburst as I had been by it. I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to know or not, but my curiosity won out.

“My best friend in high school, Connor,” Rhys answered. “My hometown is pretty small and there were hardly any queer kids who lived there. It also didn't help that I'd been bullied on and off since third grade and wasn't winning any popularity contests, so my prospects were limited even more. I hadn't dated anyone by the time I was a senior, and I asked Connor if he would be my first. I figured it was a lot better to get my virginity out of the way with someone I loved and trusted completely than take my chances in college. Heck, I could've been a virgin for years if my crappy track record had continued.”

A foreign feeling rooted itself uncomfortably in my chest. I swallowed thickly and cleared my throat.

“What happened between you two?” I asked.

“We had initially promised it would just be a one-time thing. You know, get it out of the way and keep our friendship intact. We'd been best friends since we were nine years old, and neither of us wanted to jeopardize that. However, one time turned into two, then five, then more until we just didn't stop,” he continued. The wistful look in his eyes had my chest squeezing even tighter, and my leg was shaking restlessly under the table.

“Did you have feelings for him?” I didn't know what possessed me to ask, especially since it was none of my damn business, but I couldn't help myself.

The wistfulness morphed into a noticeable sadness, and I instantly wanted to take it back.

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