Page 48 of Unwanted

I feel him shrug. “I just thought you would be different. I wanted some part of you to be and feel different.”

Feeling bold, yet confused, I turn in his arms, our noses now almost touching and my palms resting on his naked chest. “Why would you want me to be different?”

His hands cover mine. “BecauseIam.”

16

ARLO

Iknew things were changing between us.

The more time we spent together, the more blurred the lines became.

We were now touching, my hands on his, his breath mingling with mine, our eyes locking and filling with a kaleidoscope of emotions that matched the exact way I felt.

It was a lot.

We were a lot.

“You’re not different,” he says. My own hands drop and find purchase on his hips as he slides his up my chest and neck, moving to cup my jaw. “You’re finally exactly who you were meant to be.”

Unexpected tears fill up my eyes, and my fingers dig into Frankie’s hips. With just a few simple words, he’s pried open my chest cavity and given my restricted lungs permission to breathe and my battered heart a reason to heal.

Overwhelmed by the extent of my emotions, I try to avert my eyes, but Frankie keeps my head in place, ensuring my gaze stays on his.

“I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but you don’t need my validation. You never did.”

Maybe not, but I neededyou, and you left me.

My body stiffens. The single thought ruptures the bubble we’ve created, and I forcefully try and banish it to wherever it came from. It isn’t fair to throw that in his face, because he was here now. Albeit not for me, but he was here, constantly seeking me out, and maybe that could be enough for us.

Iwantedthat to be enough for us.

Before I can change the subject, Frankie rears his head back slightly, his hands still holding my head, and narrows his eyes at me.

“What is it?” he asks.

“What’s what?”

“What did I say?” he asks again. “What did I say to make you check out for a few seconds?”

Why has he always been so damn perceptive?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie. I maneuver myself out of his hold and take a step back. “Do you still want to go to lunch?”

He tilts his head to the side, and I watch him mentally weigh up his options. Like me only seconds ago, he knows if he presses the issue there’s a risk we’ll ruin whatever progress we’ve made.

And I see the second he chooses to ignore the red flag and focus on moving forward, just like I did.

“Yeah, lunch sounds good.”

I turn, giving him my back and picking up the shirt I dropped on my desk earlier. “Let me grab a shower.”

“Or you could pass on the shower?”

I look at Frankie over my shoulder. “Why, do you have somewhere to be?”

His eyes dance in delight over my body. “No. Not at all. I’m just rather enjoying the view.”

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