And I realize maybe this was a mistake.
Maybe all the ignored phone calls, me hiding in my room when he’s come to the house, texts I deleted without reading…maybe I should’ve never come back.
I stand to my feet, taking a step back onto his enormous porch, reaching for the column at my back to steady myself.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” He’s got his keys in his fisted hands and I see something flecked across the back of them and up his wrists, just below his black shirt.
Something red.
“W-what’s that?” I make myself ask, Sid’s words coming back to me.
Be careful with Maverick. He’s always got blood on his hands. Get out while you still can.
He doesn’t look away from me. “Maybe it’s the remnants of that fuck you took home last week, Ella.” He spits on the ground. “How was Mark, by the way? He fuck you good?”
“You wouldn’t—”
He closes the space between us and grabs my arm, yanking me forward. “You have no idea what I would or wouldn’t do, kid. So don’t fucking try me.”
For a moment, I’m with Mom again. For a moment, she’s screaming at me that I ruined her life. That my persistent hunger is costing her too much money. That I’m ungrateful. Lazy. And after Shane, a slut. That I stole her one chance at happiness. For a moment, I am a kid and I deserve this.
For one moment.
But then I hear Maverick saying, I want to fuck you in the ass, and the moment passes.
I’m none of those things my mother called me. And I’m definitely not a fucking kid.
I yank my hand out of his grip with enough violence that he actually lets go and I see a flash of surprise on his face.
“Whatever I did or didn’t do with Mark, you deserved worse. You deserved for me to do it in fucking front of you.” I step forward, getting in his face but keeping my hands by my sides. I’m afraid I’ll actually hurt him if I don’t and I’m not sure just how brutal this might get. “You deserved to never hear from me again. You deserved to wonder if I ended up happy with someone else. With someone who might know how to say something nice and mean it. Who might know how to open up to me! To fucking talk to me—“
“Because you are the queen of communication, right, baby?”
“—to tell me what you do when I’m not here. What your weird ass friends do. Where you work. Why you hole yourself up in that office and why you’re alway angry—“
“Do you want me, Ella?”
What?
“Do you want me?”
The rest of my tirade falls from my mouth and I’m almost embarrassed. Almost embarrassed I said so much to someone who has given me so little of himself. Someone who has fucked me over in one of the worst ways.
I take a step back and cross my arms. “What?” It’s all I can think to say.
“Do you want me?” he asks for the third time. “Do you want me, or do you just want someone?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what—“
“Do you just want anyone who will have you? Pull you out of where you’ve been? Take you away from your mom? Feed you? Fuck you?” He steps closer and I step back. “Love you?”
No. No, that’s not it at all. He has no idea what he’s—
“It’s okay if you do, baby,” he whispers, and there’s no malice in his words. No anger. He doesn’t touch me but he steps even closer, his blue eyes locked on mine.
I want to look away. I want to tell him he’s crazy. I want to tell him this is about him and what he did to me and not about—
“It’s okay to want to be loved, Ella.” He reaches out a hand and brushes a lock of hair from my face. I remember he has blood on his skin but I can’t move. I can’t speak, even as he cups my chin. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing wrong with that.”
I think of how he said that about the kinds of sex we have. The kinds of things I wanted from him. I feel suddenly hot, warm all over.
“No,” I manage to say. That’s not it. I’m not desperate. I know what love is. I’m not starving. I’m not...
He leans down, brushes his lips against mine. “It’s okay, baby,” he assures me, and my heart swells and I think it might crack. I think he might break it and I think...
I think...
“I want it, too. But I’ve been with women. I’ve chased the high. I still do. I was still looking. Until you.”
A tear spills down my cheek and he brushes it away with his thumb.
“Until you came along and wrecked my whole world under a stupidly beautiful moon. I was so angry and you were so willing and...” He swallows, averting his eyes but not letting go of me. “And I was terrified.”
More tears sting my eyes and I cradle my arms tighter to my chest, my lip trembling.
“I was so scared and I felt like a kid again.” He meets my gaze, running his thumb back and forth over my cheek. “I felt like a stupid kid because love isn’t real and it doesn’t happen that fast and the people I love... I always hurt them.”
I think about the girl. I think about the night I told him no and he didn’t want to listen...
His hand leaves my face and my stomach twists up in knots. He looks away again and I can’t take it.
I can’t take it because he’s right. I did need someone. Did want someone. It’s why I kissed Connor. Why I fell into Maverick’s arms in the first place.
But he’s wrong, too.
I wanted it to be him.
Since the moment he tackled me to the ground, my crazy heart has wanted him.
“I hurt you, too. And I don’t have a good excuse. I don’t know what you were thinking when you were in that shed, but you had every reason to think it. Every reason to think I wasn’t right for you. I’m not.”
No. He is. You are. But I can’t speak.
“I’m not right for you, Ella, and I might never be.”
He still won’t look at me. No. This week has been miserable. Let me come back. Let it go.
“I’m a terrible person.” He finally looks at me again. “I’m a terrible person and I’ve done terrible things and I’ll keep doing them, Ella.”
No.
He reaches for me again, his hand on the back of my neck. His eyes are pleading, but he hasn’t asked for anything. I hold my breath, hoping he does.
“But I want you. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I’ve kept so many things from you, but I was only trying to protect you. And with Chelsea, and everything…”
I tense at her name but stay silent, hoping.
“You were right. I was trying to make you leave.” He swallows, steps closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “But this week has been shitty and there haven’t been any cookies and…”
I can’t help it. I breathe out a little laugh, my stomach unknotting itself.
“And there hasn’t been anyone else. And there won’t be. Not again. Not if you…not if you want to try this again.”
I swallow, wrap my arm around his back and his eyes close, relief visible on his perfect face. “You’ll tell me everything?”
He nods, eyes still closed. “Yes.”