Page 64 of Verses Of Us

“Looks like I’ll be leaving early.”

She perked up, leaning onto her bent elbow. “Why?”

His shoulders sank. “Something’s come up… a thing. I have to go home.”

The tone of his voice made her gut cramp. “You’re being very cryptic. What’s going on?”

“Top of the Pops.”

“Could you be a little less monosyllabic ple—”

“No!” he snapped and stood, walking across the room naked.

“Take it easy.”

“I can’t. Your questions aren’t helping.” He picked out some clothes from the closet and got dressed hastily.

She sat up. “Calm down. I’m allowed to ask. I just don’t get it. Last night you were making plans for us and now, suddenly—”

“This is it.Thisis how my life works. Sometimes I make plans, and sometimes they get changed. There are never any guarantees.”

“I know that, I meant—”

“I know precisely what you meant, Lex.” He shoved his hair back and huffed. “Don’t make this harder than it is.”

“I’m not the one that’s yelling at the crack of dawn.” She moved across the bed and kneeled, pursing her lips. “Is there another reason you’re leaving sooner than you’d planned?”

“What?” His arms dropped.

She worked her lip, considering her words. “You know what? Forget it.” She got up and gathered her clothing.

“No, no, tell me.” He stood in her way, blocking her. “What are you implying?”

She jutted her chin at him. “I don’t know. Maybe you got scared, and now you’re running away, making up some excuse to leave early.”

With great concentration, she continued picking up her clothes, but her face grew flushed with heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment. Fury expanded beneath her skin and her heart shrank with every piece of clothing she put on. The wound he’d caused back when she was eighteen was opening up again, and his attitude only sliced more deeply at it.

“Me, scared? What am I running from?”

“From us! You felt it last night. I know you did. But you keep saying it’s never going to work because—”

“Because it won’t, goddammit!” For a split second, the flicker of anger that passed through his eyes frightened her. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated breath. “Like I’ve told you, my life is constantly on the move.” He snapped his fingers three times in her face and she recoiled. His behaviour reminded her of Clark. “I don’t need to run everything by you, do I?”

“No, you don’t.” She paused, staring at him through slitted eyes. “But I guess I expected more from you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have.” He crossed his arms, but kept his eyes down. He was trying to be strong, but she could tell how difficult it was.

She took a cautious step closer. Though her hands longed to touch him and her arms ached to hold him, she refused to let them sway her. The simmering heat rolling off of him matched the one boiling under her surface, and instinct told her to stay clear.

“The other day, you said you loved how honest I was. I think you need to give me the same honesty, Ciarán.”

“When have I not been honest?”

Her head dropped to the side. “Every second we’ve been together this week?” she answered sarcastically.

He tucked his lips into a tight line, but kept silent.

“I think deep down, you know we’re more. That we’ve always been more. And I think you’re terrified to admit it. But instead of being a grownup about your feelings, and acknowledging what’s always been between us, you’re pretending it’s nothing. And I’m sick of pretending.”

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