Page 78 of Unforgettable

When he finally raises his head, he offers me a sad smile and I acknowledge I’m absolutely clueless on how to make this better. And seeing him look so uneasy and unsure is doing nothing but derailing me from figuring out how to get us back on track.

After a quick shower, I lean on the sink and look at myself in the mirror, giving myself a much-needed pep talk.

Maddy was right. Reeve was right. We need to talk.

Sex doesn’t fix a single thing. No matter how undeniable the chemistry between us is, it doesn’t override that the rest of us is still a mess.

I walk out of the bathroom determined to make him talk or to make him listen, but the sight of him in nothing but his underwear throws me off.

“Sorry,” I blurt out, not really sure what I’m apologizing for. “I can wait in the bathroom if you’re still getting ready.”

Defeated, he sits on the bed and buries his head in his hands. It takes an inordinate amount of willpower to not run and comfort him. But he’s feeling something, and I’m going to wait until he’s comfortable enough to tell me.

“I forgot my pajamas,” he says with a sigh.

Okay, not what I was expecting.

“I know,” he says, exasperated. “You’ve seen me naked. Plenty of times. But…”

His voice trails off, and I take a stab in the dark and finish the sentence, turning it into a question. “But you don’t think we should do that anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say much, actually. You haven’t for a week, said anything.” The anger and hostility in my voice catch us both off guard.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him.

“No.” He shakes his head, rising to his feet. “You’re absolutely right. I should’ve.”

“Wait.” I raise a hand in the air. “Let me get dressed. I’ve got spare lounge pants you can wear if you want.”

“Please.”

I rummage through my bag and pull out my boxers and two pairs of pants.

Not shy, I drop my towel, step into my underwear and then my pants, certain I can feel Reeve’s eyes on me.

When I turn around, he doesn’t even shy away from staring, he just drags his gaze up my naked chest and meets my eyes. “It doesn’t matter how much or how little time passes. I always want you.” Reeve runs a hand through his hair, and I hand him the clothes. “I want to be around you. I miss you when I’m not. And you know it wasn’t supposed to go like this. I wanted no strings. I can’t afford to let myself be that guy again, and with you, I am.”

“What guy?” I prod, watching him dress. “What’s so fucking bad about being you? What’s so bad about taking what you want? Doing what you want?”

The only constant since meeting Reeve is how much he denies himself good things. Whether it’s work, or his family, and now his personal life. He challenges every decision he makes based on an obligation that shouldn’t even exist.

“You place so many restrictions on your happiness,” I state. “And that includes you and me.”

19

Reeve

I hated that he was right. And I hated that it didn’t change a single thing.

I wanted to turn back time, where he was on his knees, wanting me. Touching me. Desperate for me. I wanted the awkwardness between us to evaporate and for him to take me to bed and wrap me in his arms till the sun came up.

I didn’t want to fight and I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted tobe.

But I couldn’t shake the heaviness. From my mind, or from my body.

What Oz and I had was coming to an end. I was leaving. I knew it the moment I’d breathed life into the idea and told Murph. I couldn’t stay in Vermont anymore.

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