Page 55 of Our Secret to Keep

Fuck, what have I done?

One day, River will leave me. He’ll decide he’s had enough of my bullshit and walk away for good. But I won’t let him quit me.

CHAPTER19

RIVER

Nate leaves his seat,his shoes tapping on the steps behind me. I should get this over with so it doesn’t ruin our day.

But I refuse to look at him.

Not until I gather my thoughts.

I can’t fucking believe him.

Nate’s addiction has finally come between us. At some point, I knew it would. It was only a matter of time before his needs overpowered my own. He has no problem asking me for a handjob, yet when I ask him to reciprocate, it’s like I electrocuted him.

Well, fuck him.

Before he can reach me, I race out of the dark theater. He already made enough of a scene. Besides, I can’t risk someone overhearing the blowout.

I dart through a door to the parking lot and ignore Nate yelling my name. As I power walk to the car, I recall every detail of our conversation. The last part, anyway. The only part that matters to me.

“I want you to make me… come. Please.”

My heart hammered in my chest. “What about me?”

Nate lifted his head from my shoulder. “What about you?”

The way he saidyougrates on my nerves. Like what I needed didn’t matter to him at that moment.

“River, wait,” Nate shouts behind me, the familiar jingle of him reaching into his pocket for the keys only a few feet behind me. “We need to talk about this.”

I stop by the passenger door to his car. Unless I want to walk the five miles back to campus with a hangover, I have no choice but to catch a ride with him.

Nate hovers in my space, maybe an inch or two between us, and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Keeping my head down, I say, “I know.”

He’s always sorry.

“Riv, look at me.”

I ignore his command. And that pisses him off, his hand now clutching my chin to yank my eyes back to his face.

“I’m sorry.” He rubs the pad of his thumb on my chin, and I don’t want him to stop. “I’ll try harder to get this shit under control, okay?”

“I think you should go back to therapy.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not telling some quack about my sex life.”

“Do it for me.”

Nate pauses at my request. His hand falls from my face, and he stuffs both hands into his pockets.

“Please,” I say, reminded of how he begged me in the theater to stroke his dick.

“Would you go with me?” Nate clears his throat and shrugs. “I mean…”

---