“Not until you talk to me.”
God, why couldn’t he just respect my decision? Couldn’t he tell that I could barely think right now? Let alone talk to him. I took a deep breath. It didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have a choice once I told Miller to not let him in. I made my way over to Miller and he opened the door to let me in. I’d feel better once I was in my room. The rest of the apartment was too creepy to comfort me. “Take him off my list,” I said to Miller. I didn’t wait for a response. I hurried through the foyer and up the stairs. But still I heard the footsteps behind me. I wished it was a ghost. I’d take the place being haunted over having Matt alone with me in my room. Or Miller, if he was the one following me. I didn’t want to speak to either of them. I didn’t want to see anyone.
I tried to close the door to my bedroom, but two strong hands stopped it.
“Brooklyn, I just need five minutes.”
Matt. “You’ve had plenty of my minutes. I don’t have any more time to waste on you.” I tried to close the door but he was too strong.
“I’ve never wasted a second with you,” he said.
That was certainly poetic, but it was even more false. He didn’t get it. He’d never understand. “Time is limited, Matt! And every time you don’t have my back, that’s time I can never get back.” I’m running out of time. I pictured my mom unconscious on the kitchen floor. I pictured my uncle coughing at the kitchen table. I’d never have enough time.
He pushed the door open hard, knocking me backward. I fell back and landed on my butt.
“Shit,” he said as he reached down to help me up.
I didn’t need his help. I didn’t need anything from him. I pushed his hands away from me.
“Just let me help you up.” He grabbed my bicep when I wouldn’t let him grab my hand.
I could smell the cinnamon on his breath. And feel his fingers digging into my skin. Suddenly all I could think about was being closer to him. I just wanted to feel something. Anything. I grabbed the front of his t-shirt and pulled him toward me.
His lips collided with mine in a frenzy as I pulled him onto the floor with me. He was pissed. I was furious. And for some reason, for a few heartbeats, this made it better. I was sick of feeling sad and angry and alone. Or worse, nothing at all. I needed this. I needed him.
His fingers slid ever so slightly underneath the bottom of my sweater, the pads of his fingertips warm against my skin. We’d been in this position dozens of times. And it always stopped here. But today I couldn’t bear the thought of stopping. And his hands were higher than usual because my sweater was cropped short. I wanted his hand to slide up higher. I shifted beneath him. No, I wanted his hand to slide lower. So much lower. I needed more. I just needed something to make me feel like I wasn’t drowning. And I knew he had the power to do that. I knew he could make me forget.
I ran my hand down the front of his shirt until I reached the waistline of his jeans. All I could think about was touching him. And him touching me. My fingers fumbled with the button on his jeans.
He grabbed my hands and lifted them above my head, pinning them to the carpet. “Not like this,” he said.
“We can move to the bed…”
“You’re high, Brooklyn.” He was staring at me like I was lost. It didn’t matter if I was. I just wanted him to stop looking at me like that.
“I know what I’m doing,” I said. I tilted my hips and I could feel him pressed against me. I knew that he wanted this too. The evidence was clear enough.
He pushed himself off of me.
This felt like the one thing that would make me feel better. And him denying me? “You’ll sleep with the whole cheerleading team but you won’t sleep with me?” My voice sounded so small. I slid away from him and stood up.
“Who told you that?”
It wasn’t a denial. “Screw you, Matt.” I pulled my sweater back down.
“I didn’t sleep with the whole cheerleading team.”
“Just most of them then?” I thought about Isabella and I felt like I was going to be sick.
“I can’t undo my past. But I told you I’d wait for you now. And I have. I’m not the one letting someone else touch…”
“We broke up!”
“I never agreed to that.”
“You don’t have to agree with it. It still happened. It’s done.”
He just stared at me. “I’m not done with you.”
That’s not how this works! “Let me make this easier for you to comprehend, because clearly you’re struggling. I hate you.” I wasn’t sure I really meant it, but I certainly meant it right then. I freaking hated him for barging in here uninvited. For making me feel unwanted when he’d already been with everyone else. For not listening to me.
He had the audacity to smile. “Tough luck. Because I love you.”
I opened my mouth and then closed it again. What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
He took a step toward me and I didn’t retreat. His words were swirling around in my head and I didn’t know how to process them.
“You really want your first time to be like this?” he said. “With you mad at me?” He put his hand on the side of my face.
Obviously, or I wouldn’t have tried to unbutton your pants. I swallowed down the words. I didn’t want him to remove his hand.
“Do you know how badly I want you all the time? How many times I pictured you saying you were ready for more? But not like this. Not when all you need is for me to be here for you. Not today.” He swiped his thumbs under my eyes to remove the tears I didn’t even realize I shed.
I knew that he thought he loved me. And I could forgive him for a lot of things. I could love him in spite of his flaws. But not this. “If you loved me, you would have stood up for me.”