Page 11 of Fight for Me
“Syd.” His voice slides over my name.
“It’s fine. We’re fine. It’ll be fine. As soon as I find my pants.” Seriously, did they disintegrate when he touched them? I get to my feet and start to look around, hating the tears that burn in the backs of my eyes.
I’m so angry that all it took was one kiss for me to lose my mind completely and conjure all kinds of excuses as to why this was okay. He’s never going to stay in Sugarloaf, and I’m sure as hell never leaving. Not that he’s offering anything anyway.
Jesus, get it together, Syd.
“I came here to talk … I don’t know how we …”
I turn quickly, my hair fanning out and then slapping me in the face. “How we what? Ended up naked and screwing like teenagers in the freaking wide open?”
He runs his hand down his face, looking disheveled and irresistible. “I was going to say ended up here, but that’s fine too.”
I glare at him and then go back to my task.
My hands are shaking, and I refuse to think about what any of it means or what the hell I did. I have to work today. Plus, I wanted closure, so I’m going to take this as my opportunity to slam the proverbial door and leave.
“It’s not like we haven’t done this many times here at the pond before. It always worked when we were teenagers.”
“You know what doesn’t work? No pants!” I yell as my emotions boil over. “I need to get out of here and call a shrink because I’m clearly having a mental breakdown.”
“Because …”
I turn, glaring at him. “Because I’m smart. Because I don’t do this. Because I …”
“You have a boyfriend.”
Great. I forgot about that. I cheated on my fictional boyfriend. “I have that too, but mostly, I have regret.”
Hurt flashes in Declan’s eyes. “We need to talk about what just happened.”
I shake my head. “No, I need to go, and you need to let me.”
Declan leans down, grabs something, and then sits back up. “Here,” he says, holding my aforementioned missing pants out to me.
I take them and pull them on, neither of us say a word. What can be said anyway? We both made a huge mistake.
He dresses, and we both stand here, looking at one another.
“I know you said you didn’t want to talk, but hopefully, you’ll listen. I didn’t come looking for you to end up like that. I came because I didn’t want us to be enemies and hoped that maybe we could find some common ground. I was young, and I know I hurt you.”
“You destroyed me,” I correct him.
“I was stupid.”
I will myself not to cry. I won’t give myself over to the flurry of emotions that are swirling inside. Yes, there’s anger, but more than anything, there’s hurt. I’m in pain because looking at him, touching him, and hearing his voice has brought it all back again.
When he was inside me, I felt whole.
A missing piece of me was found and back in place. And that is the biggest lie I can ever allow myself to feel.
He isn’t going to stay or put me back together. He’ll leave.
“Are you going to stay in Sugarloaf?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Now?”
I laugh once and roll my eyes. “Don’t be stupid, Dec. I mean after your six-month sentence. Are you going to come back home, fall back in love with me, and stay?”
