Page 98 of The Space Between
“You could’ve just said something. Anything.” I snap back. “Instead, you let me in, you fucked me… or rather, you letmefuckyou, and then, you fucking ghosted me!”
He winces, but his fists clench at his sides. I’m not scared he’ll hit me when he steps forward. I meet him, enraged and tired of this game we’re playing.
Suddenly we’re toe to toe, the river behind me and the storm in his eyes swirling straight through my ribs.
His voice is intense as he says, “I don’t know how tobe this, Blakelyn. I’ve been surviving. For six fucking years, that’sallI’ve known. I stay the fuck away from people. I told you I didn’t know how to do this. Repeatedly! I tried to stay away. But I can’t!
“Ever since you showed up… with your innocence and your trust and your sass and those goddamn eyes that look at me like I’m not broken! You said you wanted more, and I don’t know what the fuck to do with that! I want more too, but I don’t know if I canbewhat you want! What you deserve!”
Oh, Gruene.
Tears form in my eyes at the anguish within his words. They’re hot. My throat is thick with them, but I keep my chin high. “I choose what I deserve, Gruene! Not you! I don’t need you fucking perfect. You’renotperfect! I didn’t ask you to be perfect. I just need you to stoprunning!” My chest is heaving and I’m about to sob.
He stares at me for the longest time. His eyes flit over my face as his breathing is as ragged as mine. Grabbing my face, he kisses me.
It’s desperate… hard… rough. His lips cling to mine like he’s still figuring out what it means to want something andnotrace away. My lips part and he takes full advantage, his tongue sweeping past them.
I kiss him back like I’m tired of waiting… because Iam…because this is real… because we’re here.
Andthisneeds to be where the story changes.
Gruene
I tasteher long after she’s gone.
Even as she walks back to her cabin with her jaw tight and her eyes burning—not from the kiss, but from everything I haven’t said… everything Idon’tknow how to say. I stand there like a fucking coward again, letting her walk away when what I should do is follow.Own it.Be the man she thinks I can be, instead of the man I’ve been since the river swallowed my whole world.
But I can’t.
Because my hands still remember how it feels to reach for people who will never walk through the door again.
Because I still wake up gasping, hearing Molly and Aubree scream for me before the water choked their voices out.
Because the thought of loving someone again—of failing someone again—makes me feel like I’m standing on the edge of that incline all over again, one step away from sliding back into hell.
Dragging a hand down my face, I head for my truck, gravel crunching beneath my boots, August heat pressing down on me like a second skin. The tubing crowd’s thinned out since the weekend rush, but there’s always cleanup. Always some kid leaving a tangled mess of inner tubes like we’re his personalmaid service. Reece said he’d handle it, but I need something to do before I lose my fucking mind.
Something other than thinking about the look in her eyes when she said, “I don’t need you to be fucking perfect! I just need you to stop running!”
That hit harder than it should have.
Because she’s right. I am running. I’ve been running for six fucking years.
The shop isquiet when I get back. Too quiet. Reece’s Bronco is parked out front, but the front desk is empty. There’s a note scrawled on a receipt.
Ran to town.
The guys are on tubes and watching the office.
Back soon.
— Reece
Balling it up, I shove it in my pocket.
The air’s thick with leftover humidity, the river slow and shimmering down past the bank. I step out back and see the guys goofing off as they stack and sort tubes. I head to the river and start collecting abandoned tubes, throwing them further up the bank. It’s mindless work, but maybe that’s the point. I need mindless. I need simple.
Nothing about Blakelyn is simple.
