Page 56 of My Sweetest Agony
But I don’t have it in me tonight.
I just can’t.
“Will you…” I swallow through my suddenly dry throat. “Will you stay…for a while?”
I hate how needy I sound.
How helpless.
Cam’s entire body tenses, the leather of his jacket creaking as he rolls his broad shoulders, his hand still clasped tightly in mine. “Ivy?—”
No!
I can see his reservation.
The hesitation in his gaze.
“Please. I just”—I shake my head, willing the tears to remain at bay—“don’t want to be alone right now. I don’t think I can be. I don’t trust myself to be…”
Not after what we just did.
I don’t say those final words, but I shouldn’t have to.
Cam was there to watch me crumble on that beach.
He witnessed my devastation.
Held me through it.
Helped me remember how to breathe.
Assured me that things would get better when, in that moment, it felt like it never would.
So, he knows how I’m feeling.
He understands what I’m saying without voicing the words.
Cam watches me for a moment, his gaze locked with mine so long that I almost get lost in the murky-blue waters that swirl with reservation and uncertainty. “Okay…”
Despite the clear hesitation in his acceptance, relief rushes from me on a heavy breath.
I slowly release his hand—not fully trusting my legs—and step back, giving him room to climb off the bike as I brace my hand on the seat. He does it tentatively, his jaw tight, shoulders tense, and pulls his helmet from his head, shaking out his thick, dark hair.
He approaches cautiously, lifting his hands to release the strap on mine, carefully removing it. Then he tucks it into the saddlebag and turns to face me again.
Tension rolls off him, along with an uneasiness I haven’t felt from him since the first night he showed up on my doorstep. When we were total strangers.
So much has changed between us since then.
We’re…
Friends?
I’m not sure that word fits, but nothing else seems to, either.
With everything we’ve shared with each other, the harsh reality we’re both living in with Drew’s loss, we should be friends. Yet, he’s still keeping secrets. Things that could help give me answers about those lingering questions that keep me awake at night.
But tonight, I don’t need them.
