Page 11 of Rhys: and the girl who was always his

And then, just as suddenly as it started, she pulls away.

Her breathing is ragged, her lips swollen, and her eyes wide with something I can’t quite name. “Ally?—”

With a shake of her head, she steps back, fingers to her lips, as though she's trying to hold on to the taste of me. Or erase it altogether. “I—” Her voice catches, and she exhales shakily. “I can’t do this.”

A sharp pang cuts through my chest, quick and deep. All the air leaves my lungs, and I fight to find my voice. “What do you mean?”

She swallows hard, looking at me like she’s trying to figure out which of us is the bigger idiot. “This... us. I don’t know how,” she stutters.

I take a step forward, holding on to hope like a lifeline, but she’s quick to shake her head again. “Rhys, we’ve spent years pretending. We don’t know how to be anything else.” Her voice is small and sad, and I hate that I’m the one making her sound like that.

Clenching my jaw, my hands fist at my sides in helpless frustration. “So what? You’d rather run back to Justin?” The bitterness seeps out.

Her expression hardens, cutting and fierce. “This isn’t about him. It’s about us.”

She turns away, and for a moment, I think she’s going to leave me standing here like a goddamn fool.

But then she looks over her shoulder, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear it.

“I just need time.”

Then she’s gone, disappearing into the night, leaving me standing there, fists clenched, heart racing, lips still tingling from the kiss I’ve waited years to have.

I watch until she’s completely out of sight, expecting her to turn around one last time, to say, to do something.

But she doesn’t.

And just like that, she’s already slipping away again. I breathe deeply, trying to steady myself, to bring my pulse back to a normal rhythm, but nothing about this feels normal. Nothing about this has felt normal since the moment I saw her laughing at the bar without me. I came out tonight because I needed to get away from the house. I just needed some time on my own. But then she was here.

She may be gone, but her presence lingers, a tangled knot that I can’t unravel. My hands throb from being clenched so tightly, and the urge to hit something wells up inside me, as strong as the urge to hold her was just moments ago.

I need to calm down, to regroup, but the heaviness in my heart won’t let up. I know what I should do. I should walk it off, try to find some way to forget how her lips felt against mine, how she tasted, how her stupid red hair smelled when I pressed her against the wall and devoured her like she was the only thing I wanted.

But I can’t.

I can’t forget any of it. I can’t forget how she pulled away, how she looked at me, and most of all, how she said she needed time. Frustrated and running on fumes, I hightail it out of the parking lot and head home.

When I get there, the house is quiet, but the light in the living room is still on. Ashley is curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. She doesn’t react when I walk in, but she knows I’m there.

“How bad was it?” she asks without looking at me.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Bad.”

She finally turns her head, studying me. “You look like shit.”

“Feel like it too.” I drop onto the couch beside her, letting my head fall back. “I kissed her.”

Ashley doesn’t look surprised. “And?”

“And she ran.”

Ashley hums. “She’s scared. So are you.”

I glance at her. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of us speak. Then I shift, turning to face her. “How are you?”

She sighs, pulling her blanket tighter around her. “I haven’t told Caitlin yet.”

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