Her eyes water and she sucks in a ragged breath, like maybe she’s trying not to cry. The sight of her trying to be brave does me in.
I cup her face. “Kelsey, I—”
She shakes her head vehemently. “Don’t,” she whispers.
Did she know I was just about to tell her I love her?
“Not right now. I don’t want the happiest moment of my life tied in with the saddest one.”
Fuck. My chest feels like it’s caving in.
I lean over and kiss her with a desperation I feel deep in my soul. Every second that ticks by is one second closer to the moment that I’m going to be ripped away from her.
I pull away and study her face. “Maybe we can—”
She lifts her finger and presses it to my lips, shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. If this is our last night with you living here, I want us to enjoy it. I want that memory.”
I open my mouth around her finger to argue with her, to tell her that we have to talk about this, we have to figure out a plan, but the pleading look in her eyes, as though she can’t handle what I want drains the fight right out of me.
I’m not leaving here without a discussion, that much I know. Even if I have no real idea what the best solution to our problem is. I can’t very well ask her to pick up and leave her home and her career with zero notice to follow me. Leave her dream behind, so I can continue living my own.
Still, I’m not willing to give her up and one way or another, we’re going to figure this out. But I can give her what she wants, what she needs right now.
And even if she won’t let me tell her with words how I feel about her, I’m determined to make it clear with my body.
I stand and pick her up, carrying her to the bedroom. After I’ve deposited her on the bed, I slowly remove both of our clothes.
When I settle over top of her, I savor my time kissing her, pouring every ounce of emotion I have into our connection and then I explore her like we have two weeks. Once I’m finally rocking into her, our gazes lock and we never look away from each other.
The tie that binds us solidifies from string to steel and our connection intensifies. Still, I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit that making love to her tonight feels a lot like a goodbye.
15
Kelsey
When my eyes drift open in the morning, I startle when the first thing I see is Brock sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, staring at me.
“You’re already dressed.” My voice is still thick with sleep.
“You didn’t stir at all when I got out of bed, and you were still sleeping when I got out of the shower. Thought you could use the sleep and… I kinda dreaded waking you, if I’m honest.”
I don’t have to ask why. It’s the same reason I dreaded waking up today when I was drifting off last night. I might have been able to push this conversation off last night but one glance at the clock tells me there’s no time to do so now.
I sit up and pull the sheet up so it covers my breasts, leaning against the headboard. “I’m dreading this conversation too.”
He swallows audibly. “I don’t want to lose you, Kels.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.” Tears already swim in my eyes and I know there’s no way I’m getting through this conversation without crying.
“Maybe we can do the long-distance thing. You can come out when you have the time and hey, I have months off at a time. I could spend the summers and September here.”
I give him a sad smile. “It’ll be hard to come see you when I’m following the Infernos around.”
He already knows this. The odds of our off days lining up are slim to none. We’d only get scraps of time to spend together. Even less since he’s basically at the opposite side and end of the country from San Francisco.
“Do you really think that’s going to work?” I don’t know if I’m hoping he’ll lie to himself by saying yes, or just put me out of my misery and say no.
In the end he says nothing at all, just looks at me with sad whiskey eyes that I drink in because I feel the same.
“Brock, I don’t know what’s worse. Ending things when you walk out that door or witnessing the slow demise of us when we try to do a long-distance relationship. Both will be painful, but one feels like ripping off the Band-Aid quickly and the other feels like doing it slowly over the course of months, all with the same end result.”
His forehead creases. “Are you saying you want to break up?” There’s hurt and anger in his voice and I want to shout at him that no, I want him to ask me to go, but that would be insane.
We’ve been seeing each other for less than six months. What kind of person just picks up and leaves their life behind to start over for someone they haven’t been seeing for that long a time? Especially after only seeing them in secret.
I don’t dare mention it myself, lest he think I’m completely insane. I am. I can’t even believe I’d consider it. But last night I lay there in his arms before I could fall asleep trying to picture my life without him. And the truth is, I just couldn’t. Not a happy one anyway.
But Brock is a straight shooter and even if I could tell he was going to tell me he loved me last night before I stopped him, if he doesn’t ask me to move with him then he must not be sure he loves me enough to ask me to leave my life behind.
Finally, I answer his question. “I don’t want to break up, no. But I’m not sure life is giving us much of an option.”
He leans in and presses his forehead to mine, swiping my tears with his thumbs once they begin to fall. “This really sucks. I’m gonna miss you so much.” His voice breaks on the last sentence.
“Same,” I whisper.
He presses his lips to my forehead and holds them there for a moment. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push back the emotion burning in my throat.
When he pulls back, he glances at the digital clock on the other nightstand. “Shit. I have to go. My car will be waiting downstairs to take me to the airport.”
The urge to beg him to stay slams through me, and I press my lips together.
He looks around the space. “Guess I’m going to have to hire someone to pack up all my stuff and ship it to Florida. Find a realtor to sell my place.” His shoulders sag. “This is all happening so fast.”
“I can help if you want.” Having something to do will be good once he’s gone. I’m going to have to keep busy to stay sane. Though it’ll probably break my heart every time I step into his empty condo.
“Yeah, thanks.” He stands from the bed. “Here, I was gonna give this to you anyway.” He pulls a key from his pocket and sets it on the nightstand. “Just lock up whenever you leave.”
I nod and sniffle, trying in vain to stop more tears from falling.
“We’ll figure something out, okay? We will.” He bends down and places a long kiss on my lips.
I nod, even though I know we both know it’s not true. “Text me when you land.”
“Will do.” He grabs a duffel bag sitting on the floor and slings it over his shoulder. “Rest of my stuff is already by the front door.” He walks over to the door and turns to look at me one last time. “We’ll talk soon, okay?” He holds my stare for a beat and then he’s gone.