Page 78 of Give Me Redemption

She clamps her mouth shut. She looks down at the beer in her hand. “We were, yes. Malcolm is just a friend, though. We had an understanding.”

“So you were fuck buddies?”

“I guess. If you want to call it that.”

“You don’t have any feelings for him?” I ask. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I’m getting upset, and I have no right to be. She’s allowed to sleep with whomever she wants. Like she said before, she’s not my girlfriend.

“No. He’s just a friend. What about the women you sleep with? Any feelings?”

“No.”

I don’t tell Dalton that I am having feelings for her. That the way she smiles makes my heart double up and kick-starts my pulse. That her smell brings me comfort. I don’t tell her that the feeling of holding her while she was sleeping will be something I never forget.

The room quiets, and neither of us says anything. She looks over at me. Her lips are wet from her drink, her hair falling in thick waves down her back. I swallow and reach over to put my beer down. She doesn’t ask me where I’m going as I get up and walk over to my record player. Pulling out an album, I slide the record out and put it in place. I move the needle, and Garth Brooks starts crooning lyrics about making you feel my love.

This is deep, but somewhere inside of my soul, I feel this way for her. It’s too soon to say it out loud. Hell, I don’t know if I ever will, but maybe just for a moment, we can both forget the battles we’ve lived through, the war going on in our heads, and just be.

I turn around to look at her. She looks nervous. Why do I make her nervous?

“Dance with me,” I say.

“Here?” she asks, looking around. I know the space is small, but we aren’t moving all over the room.

“Yeah,” I say, sliding my hands into my pockets, because I’m a little nervous, too. I don’t want to press anything. I don’t want to be the reason she walks out. But I want to hold her so much it hurts.

She folds her lips in. I see the fight she has with herself. Like she shouldn’t do this, and I have no idea why. Why is this so hard for her? We’re just two people who obviously want one another and yet, she acts like it’s a sin.

What’s so wrong with me?

I know I’m not the best man. I know I’ve done stupid shit. No one is harder on me than me. But I deserve some happiness, don’t I?

After all the pain I’ve been through, all the hurt and guilt.

“If you don’t want this, that’s okay,” I say.

She looks over at me, places her beer onto the table, and stands up. I swallow as she nears.

She puts her arms around my neck, and I cautiously remove my hands and put them around her waist. Her eyes go to mine, and slowly we move, small step after small step. And as the music plays and the room fades away, I look at her lips, so fucking desperate to kiss them. Her eyes go to mine, but I’m not making the first move. If she wants me, then she’ll have to do it.

I’ve always been the one to make first moves. I’m confident. Some would say cocky at times. I know I’m a good-looking guy, so that makes it easy to get women, but this isn’t someone I just want to fuck.

I want more with this girl.

She makes no move to kiss me, though. Instead, she rests her head on my shoulder and we dance.

And that’s all we do.

Chapter Thirty

Jace

Weeks pass, and winter hits hard. It’s freezing in Atlanta, and a snowstorm bellows through the city. Dalton and I see each other a few days a week. We meet up at Hudson’s or at each of our places. The most we’ve done is kiss, and I swear to God, I have permanent blue balls. I rub my hands together as she bounces behind me.

“Hurry up,” she urges.

“I’m trying,” I reply with freezing fingers. We’ve rented a cabin in the mountains. It’s snowing all around us, but we’re not secluded. There are plenty of other idiots up here, too.

I push open the door and we hurry inside. Snow blows in behind us and Dalton quickly shuts the door.

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