Page 43 of Wild Thing

What’s happening?

I step toward him, my heart pumping even faster. I think I might be having a heart attack.

There’s that strange sound again coming from his pocket. I’m so confused about everything that I don’t even fight when Archer grabs me by my arm, pulls me inside, and, kicking the door closed, whips me around and presses me against the door.

“Why are you crying?”

His voice is harsh, but his gaze is too intense, letting me know he’s not angry but upset. My future depends on the answer.

“Is it Zion? Friends? Marlow? Fucking talk, Kat. We’ve been here before. Me, pinning you to the wall, prying words out of you. You choking and handcuffing me because you are used to fighting back.”

How does he not get it? “You are such an idiot.”

A glint of bitterness etches his eyes. “So explain it to me, to the idiot that I am. I can’t chase you, Kat. I canforceyou to do and say what I want, but I won’t. Out of all people, I won’t do it with you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are important to me. And if you don’t feel the same, then I have to let you go.”

“Don’t.” I’m begging. This is the lowest I’ve been with a man. I should be ashamed.

“Say it,” he urges.

“Say what?”

“Tell me why you want to stay.”

I feel like I’m kneeling but I haven’t moved an inch.

“I have a picture of us on my phone,” I say, my chest tightening at the words. “Us dancing at Cece’s party. It’s my screensaver. It’s us.”

I hang my head, tilting forward and pressing my forehead to his shoulder. It’s easier to talk if I don’t look at him, though his scent drives me insane. “I know I acted like a brat that evening,” I say in a shaky voice, swallowing tears. “I know that later, I said some awful things. I let you down in your worst moment, and you might be hating me for that. And maybe that’s the reason you keep your distance lately.”

This will only work one way—if I show all my cards.

“I want you,” I say quietly, summoning all my courage. “More of you. What we had. It’s frustrating. And worst of all—” I swallow hard. “It hurts, Archer. Because we don’t talk anymore. Don’t laugh together. We don’t haveanythinganymore.”

My head is dizzy, and my heart is ripping apart. From booze. From the emotions I can’t hold back anymore, letting him see me this way, the mess that I am.

His fingers brush off my tears, and just his touch is enough to make my knees buckle.

“I’m drunk. I’m sorry.” If I weren’t, I would’ve never told him even a fraction of this. “If you don’t care—”

“Don’t finish the fucking sentence, Kat.”

My feelings are way over the top, spilling onto my face in embarrassing tears.

“I want so much more of you, Archer.” I stare at his shirt, at his arms moving as his hands gently cup my face, then down at his feet—anything but his face, as if meeting his eyes will kill me. “But if I can’t have that, it’s alright. I’ll be fine. But let me stay for a little longer.”

How do I tell the man who avoids me that he haunts me every hour of every day? That every time he walks out of the room we are in, I pray to see him again in the next minute. That the world feels empty when he’s not around. That I constantly imagine what it’d be like if therewasan us. That I lie sleepless in my bed at night, for hours staring at the ceiling, remembering every second we spent together. How scary it is to realize that I crossed some red forbidden line where there’s no return. No return from the person who consumes me completely.

“I won’t bother you,” I whisper. “Won’t annoy you. Won’t get on your radar, I promise. But I need more time with you. If only at a distance. So I can part with Zion my own way.”

The air burns between us. There’s silence and waiting, me waiting for his response that doesn’t come, and I finally summon the courage to lift my face and meet his eyes.

His gaze is so intense that I want to disappear from shame.

“I can’t, Kat,” he says.

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