“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he replies contritely. “What can I do to help?”
“Nothing,” I say, realizing how deeply true that is on every level. “There’s absolutely nothing either of us can do. Maybe we weren’t supposed to stop any of this. I’ve never been able to before, why now?”
I can practically hear the shocked silence on the other end.
“Is that true? You’ve never been able to change what you See?” I can hear his fear, and I almost feel like an asshole. But he deserves to know.
“Yes, it’s true. I’ve never stopped a vision from coming true. And I’ve tried.”
“So why did you think you could this time?”
It almost falls out of my mouth. I almost say it. Because I love you.
If I couldn’t tell him about my secret until it was too late for our relationship, I sure as hell can’t tell him that.
“Because hope dies last, Drew.”
Though the double meaning of those words sits heavy between us, he doesn’t acknowledge them.
“I’ll see you Friday night, CJ. We’ll figure this out.”
I want to agree, but I feel so defeated and I can’t let that show. “You’re right. I hope you have a nice time with your parents, even with everything that’s going on.”
“I’ll do my best.”
So will I, I think with a renewed determination. So. Will. I.
Sometimes your best just isn’t good enough. I have Matt drop me off at Drew’s apartment on Friday night, knowing I’m going to have to tell him exactly that.
I’m sorry, Drew, I did my best, but I have no idea who is going to kill you or how to stop it. I rehearse it over and over in my head.
All of my words go out the window when he opens the door and the mere sight of him makes me break down into sobs.
He pulls me in, closing the door and wrapping his arms around me.
“Shhh,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
I hold him tight, enjoying his familiar smell, his soothing embrace. I hadn’t forgotten how good this felt, and I’ll take it while it lasts.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble into his chest. “This is so backward.”
He presses me away, holding onto my arms. “We should talk.”
My heart races at his words and the serious expression on his face. Oh god. Can someone break up with you when you’re not even dating anymore? I may vomit.
In shock, I let him lead me to the couch. The couch. I’m surprised he hasn’t burned it yet, but clearly at the moment he’s got bigger problems on his mind.
He folds a leg up so he can face me. I curl into myself, unable to fight the urge to hide.
“Hey, no,” he protests, pulling at my arms until I’m not so closed off. “It’s just … I told my parents a modified version of what’s going on right now, and they kind of knocked some sense into me.”
My eyebrows fly up to my hairline. “Modified how?”
“I didn’t tell them about you,” he assures me. “I just told them I’d been getting threats. That I was afraid for my safety. But I did tell them about what happened with us, more or less. That you were just trying to get answers about the threats, but I thought you were sleeping with Nick. That you weren’t telling me everything. That it was just … too much.”
Slightly relieved that I hadn’t been outed without permission, I wave a hand for him to go on. “And they said?”
“That no future is certain, no matter how much it may feel that way. That no relationship is easy. That they’d never heard me happier than when I was with you.”
My heart twinges. Because I was never happier than when I was with him. And I think I’d forgotten that. And the way he’s looking into my eyes, I can tell he feels the same.
“I told myself this was too complicated. That I’d hurt you too much to ask anything of you. But these past few weeks … I’ve had no clue how to both be around you and not push for more, especially as conflicted as I was. And that just made it worse. So I’m done trying not to want to be with you. I believe we can work things out, and I don’t want to face another day apart, CJ. Please.” He reaches up to stroke his thumb over my cheek. “Let’s try again.”
I want to say no. But I don’t disagree. Our issues are probably fixable. And there’s still a big part of me that knows he’s worth it. But what’s really holding me back, I realize, is that if I open myself to him and he dies anyway, I don’t think I’ll survive.
Though that might be true no matter what. If I don’t try, I’ll always wonder.
I feel a single tear roll down my cheek that he makes no move to wipe away, letting it roll over his thumb.
My difficulty forming words keeps me from responding right away and when I don’t, he makes it all the more difficult by leaning in. His nose swipes gently against mine, and I know I won’t be able to answer him with words. So I answer the only way I can, with my lips on his.
With a relieved sigh, his hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me in deeper, his tongue invading my mouth, his other hand reaching behind my back to pull me to him.
In a flurry of hands and tongues and labored breaths, we strip each other bare and he claims me completely. Our hips rock together furiously, the reunion hurtling me toward my peak at a pace as frantic as our need for each other. His need for me is obvious in his hard, rough thrusts, in the reverence with which he holds my face to look deeply into my eyes as he takes me.
Neither of us speak, a silent understanding passing between us that we were fools to deny how much we need each other. Even through the hurt, the pain. This connection is worth everything, especially now.
I tense around him as I come, and it pulls him in too. It only took minutes to undo the separation of these past weeks. But will it be enough? I can only hope so. Hope that it can withstand what’s to come.
We spend the night — well, the wee hours of the morning, really — reconnecting. The awkwardness between us melts away under our dire need to be together. To try to work through our hang-ups.
To that end, he finally tells me the full Amber story. It’s not worse than I thought, but it is eye-opening to hear the way he talks about it. It gives me a fuller understanding of him, and the whole issue with Nick.
I admit that my aversion to touch is because of my ability, and I can see in his eyes that it underscores the truth for him.
While I can’t say everything has been fixed in one night, by the time I drift off to sleep in his arms, I’m more optimistic than I have been in a while. Because now that we’re truly together, maybe we really can figure out how to stop what’s coming.
“Don’t leave,” I beg. Now that my body remembers being with him, it doesn’t want to stop. I may be a little high on orgasms. Not the worst place to be. It’s definitely helping me to not think about anything else.
Drew groans and strokes a hand over one of my nipples. “You’re killing me,” he moans. “I have to get to work.”
I flop backward on the bed. “Work, schmerk,” I whine. “I’ll hire you to keep doing that thing you do with your tongue.”