Me: Do you know the exact moment I knew I loved you?
I press send and hear the alert on his phone go off in the distance. I can’t see if he’s reading it and typing a response, reading it and deciding I don’t deserve a response, or ignoring me completely. I go with option two. I’m not sure I deserve much of anything right now.
Me: It was on your birthday. Do you remember what we did?
I’m typing the answer for him when my phone beeps.
Reese: How could I forget? I never thought I’d get you in my bed.
I blink and send the tears down my cheeks, sniffing loudly. Loud enough to possibly alert him of my crying. But it’s hard not to cry when he’s given me his words. I’ve only been deprived of them for a little over three hours, but it felt like longer. Much longer. As I type my response, movement in the doorway catches my attention.
I’m in his arms before I can speak, before I can tell him I’m sorry, before I can wipe the tears from my face. I’m so drawn to him that even if I wanted to remain on the bed, there’s not a chance in Hell I could. Not when I’ve fucked up and I need him to feel how sorry I am. My body trembles as he lifts me off the ground and holds me against him. He moans into my hair, and I cling to him like I’m desperate. Like I’ve been deprived for years of his contact. Like it could be taken away from me at any minute. And that’s exactly how he holds me.
It kills me.
I cry harder, grip him tighter, bury my face so far into his neck it becomes borderline painful. I don’t register that he’s carried me throughout his condo until he crouches down and sits on the couch with me in his arms. I scoot closer until I’m practically in his skin. Until it’s hard to determine where he ends and I begin. He keeps one arm on my legs while the other stays wrapped around my upper body.
I brush my lips against his neck, fisting his shirt in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Reese. Please talk to me. Yell, scream, I don’t care. Just give me something. I can’t stand not hearing your voice.”
His breath warms the side of my face as he tilts his head down. “I wanted you on that trip with me because I can’t stand being away from you. I’m selfish when it comes to you, Dylan. I always will be. I knew there was a possibility you would have to see Bryce. I knew he made you uncomfortable, but I took that risk and asked you to come with me anyway.” He shifts me in his lap so we’re face to face. “And then when I saw how you reacted to him on the plane, it killed me. I put you there. I made you feel that way. He saw you in that dress because of me. He stared at you, thinking the same thing I thought when I saw you in it. Because. Of. Me. I didn’t put you first, and I should have. I don’t deserve to know when you fell in love with me. I don’t deserve to hear your voice.”
My heart thunders in my chest as I absorb his words, words I wasn’t expecting to hear. I had prepared myself for a Reese-style flip-out, but not this. How can this man think I wouldn’t follow him anywhere? That any of this is his fault?
“No.” I grab his face with my hands, brushing along the stubble on his jaw. “I wanted to be with you just as much as you wanted me there. Even if you wouldn’t have asked me to go, I would’ve snuck in your suitcase or booked a flight without you knowing. I can’t stand to be away from you either, so don’t you dare act like this addiction is one-sided. I’m just as obsessed and selfish as you are.”