Page 89 of Barbed Wire Fences
I can’t do this right now.
“I… I need to go,” I say, swiftly turning on my heel and heading back towards my car.
I’m embarrassed. So fucking embarrassed. Yes, I wanted to talk to him and see him but not like this. Not when he’s so damn… angry with me.
“Jael!” Rhett’s voice pierces through the air as I storm off, not stopping to look behind me. “What are you doing?”
Spinning around at my car door, I shoot him a glare. “I thought we could be mature about this. Talk about how I left things, but you’ve ignored me completely the past month! Things were good before I left. I don’t understand what happened? I don’t get why you’re so mad at me.”
“Why are you here?” he demands again, his tone sharp as he steps down from the porch, walking towards me slowly.
He looks unfairly good tonight. The kind of good that makes my stomach knot and my palms itch just to touch him. But I don’t seem to have that right anymore. Those light grey jeans cling to his long legs like they were made for him, showing off every lean line, every step of muscle in his thighs. The navy-blue t-shirt stretched tight across his chest bears his business’s logo, but honestly, no one’s looking at the logo when the fabric strains like that over his shoulders and biceps.
His hair’s longer than when I left, shaggier, brushing the nape of his neck and curling around the edge of the baseball cap he insists on wearing low, shading his eyes.
And God, I wish he’d take it off. I want to see all of him, his full face, the expression in his eyes. But he keeps it there, like armor, like he’s holding a piece of himself back from me. I wish he wouldn’t. I wish I knew what he wanted. I’m so bad at being vulnerable. I felt like I was getting better with him, but now all I feel is weak and small standing in front of him.
“You keep leaving, then coming back, then leaving again. How long are you here for this time before you leave again?”
“I… I don’t know.”
He steps closer and that’s when I see the frustration that’s behind his hazel eyes. “What keeps bringing you back, Jael?”
You.
“Work. Doctor Walker asked me to come back to do a week-long training for their emergency department on some special skills.”
He shakes his head, annoyance written all over his handsome face. “So, you’re just here for a week and then gone again? Back to yourex-fiancéin Richmond?”
That pisses me off. “Not that it matters, but I didn't go back to Virginia to get back together with him. You’d know that if you responded to any of my text messages or phone calls.”
It does matter.It matters so much. Because if Rhett thinks that’s why I left, then that means he ignored every message I sent him because he was mad that I left without talking to him in person first. And that means he thinks I didn’t want more when that’s far from the truth.
His eyes narrow as he assesses me. “Why are you here, Jael?” he asks again, his voice softer this time.
For you but you clearly you don't seem to want me to be.
“I… I don’t know what more to say.”
He chuckles and shakes his head before tilting it to the sky. “You never know, do you? You’ve never gotten it.”
I hate this. I feel cornered and raw, unsure how to handle this vulnerability. I don’t want Rhett to hate me again. I don’t want to fight with him.
“Maybe we should talk another time instead,” I start. I back away slowly, reaching for my car door handle, but Rhett’s quicker.
“No, you don’t get to run away again.” His hands catch my hips, pulling me flush against his body and crushing me tightly against his chest. He smells like sweat and soap. The scent is so simple and masculine, I can feel every part of me melting instantly into his hold.
“You drive me crazy, Jael,” he whispers in my ear before dragging his rough fingertips up the exposed skin on my back. My skin warms under his touch and goosebumps break out all over my chest. “You always have since that day you first showed up at my front door with your mom, set on ruining my summer plans at fourteen.”
“And what do you think you do to me?” I ask breathlessly as he releases my hips. I meet his gaze head on. “I texted and called you, yet you never returned either. You made me feel like the whole month we spent together was a fever dream. Like it never meant anything to you!”
His hands slide to the back of my neck, strong and insistent, pulling me into him—and then, without warning, his lips crash against mine. The kiss is rough, edged with frustration and a kind of desperate need that makes my whole-body light up. For a split second, I try to resist, pulling back because we should talk about this, weneedto talk about this.
But then I give in. I can’t not.
With Rhett, touch has never been our problem. It’s always been our language, the one place we’ve never tripped over words or stumbled into silence. I melt against him, my chest pressed to his, the heat of his body swallowing me whole as the rest of the world falls away. His tongue slides into my mouth, claiming,coaxing, and his fingers tighten in my hair, angling my face exactly how he wants it, exactly how he’s always known I’d give it to him.
When he finally breaks away, his breathing is ragged, his gaze much more intense.
