Page 114 of Tangled Kisses
I kick my boots off with a thud, peel off my shirt, and toss it over the chair. Then I stretch out on top of the blankets, leaving a space between us, letting the flickering screen wash over the silence.
Halfway through the movie, Reese shifts, propping her chin on her hand. Her eyes are glassy from the whiskey, but sharp enough to cut me open. “Can I ask you something?”
Thank God, she’s ready to talk.
“Shoot.”
Her voice is low, tentative. “Have you ever been in love?”
With you. You’re it. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.
The answer almost rips out of me, but she’s still raw, still pissed, still hiding behind all those walls. So I swallow it down and give her the truth I can.
“I have. Once.”
She blinks, curiosity softening her face. “What was it like?”
“The highest highs and the lowest lows,” I murmur, eyes fixed on the screen though I’m not seeing a damn thing. “All rolled into one. And I wouldn’t trade a single minute of it.”
Her brow furrows. “What happened?”
I don’t know. Why don’t you talk to me and tell me what happened?
I comethisclose to saying the words aloud but bite them back.
Arguing with someone who’s been drinking is like trying to convince a turtle to wear roller skates. Even if you manage it, it generally turns out to be a bad idea. So I realize I’ve got to wait until morning, until she’s sober. Then we’ll have the discussion we need. We’ll figure it out together.
I turn my head, letting her see the weight of it in my eyes. “She pulled away from me. Stopped talking. Built walls I couldn’t climb.”
Her lips part, but she looks away, hugging her pillow tighter.
A beat of silence, then she tries again. “What about you and Lauren?”
“There is no me and Lauren.”
Her gaze flicks back, uncertainty lining her face. “She offered you a way out.”
“Yeah,” I admit, voice steady. “But I want something bigger than that.”
She lets out a shaky breath. “What if not all of us are meant for happily ever after?”
“All of us meaning me?”
The vulnerability in her expression guts me. “I know you’re meant for it. I’m talking about myself.”
Something inside me rebels at that. I reach out, brushing my fingers against her ankle where it peeks from behind her wall of pillows. Just a touch. “You deserve the most beautiful happily ever after.”
Her throat works like she’s trying to swallow down the emotion. Then, she murmurs words so soft I almost miss them. “Thank you for saying that. But I don’t believe in it anymore.”
Before I can dig in, before I can pull her further open, she turns the volume back up, retreating behind her wall of pillows and shutting me out again.
The movie drags on until her head tips against the cushions. She blinks heavy-lidded and sighs. “God, I’ve got such a headache. I’m so tired.”
“Then just go to bed.”
She shakes her head, rubbing her temple. “No, I’ve got to wash the night off me.”
I push up on an elbow. “Or you could just sleep. I’ll find you aspirin.”
