Page 117 of Twisted Needs

Choosing. Because that’s always been the problem, isn’t it?

Anders needs to be chosen.

I reach up and cup his jaw. His eyes soften despite himself.

I kiss him once. Just slow and gentle, but long enough to feel him melt for a second. “One minute,” I whisper against his mouth. “Promise, baby.”

His gaze carefully searches mine, suspiciously hopeful in a way that hurts to look at. Finally he nods. “Okay.” He presses a kiss to my cheek before climbing off the bed.

The room feels colder the second he leaves it, his words coming out a little too soft.

I unmute the call. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“Jesus Christ,” Luca laughs. “Are you with someone?”

My answer comes automatically. “No, I’m not with someone, you fucking goon.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, tasting bitter and wrong. Across the room, Anders pauses near the doorway. I watch him hear it. Watch him go still. Watch something shutter behind his eyes. Fuck.

“Anyway,” Luca continues, completely oblivious. “I’m just saying ESPN made you sound evil.”

“Mhm.” My eyes never leave Anders. He gives me one long unreadable look, then disappears into the hallway. Panic hits so fast my pulse stumbles. “Hey,” I cut in immediately. “I gotta go.”

“That important, huh?”

“Yeah.” I swing my legs out of bed. “Real important.”

Luca laughs. “Alright. Talk later, you bastard.”

The second the call ends, I throw my phone onto the mattress.

“Anders?”

No answer. Something cold settles in my stomach. I stand, slipping into my boxers, and head for the hallway. “Anderson?”

Still nothing. The silence shouldn’t bother me this much, but after last night, after everything he told me about Frankenstein and monsters and abandonment, I suddenly understand exactly why it does. Because for the first time in my life, the thought of him walking away doesn’t make me feel guilty.

It terrifies me.

I run straight down the stairs. “Baby,” I call out. “Babe.”

I don’t breathe until I finally see him standing in the kitchen.

He’s here. He didn’t leave me. He’s making coffee like he didn’t just scare ten years off my life. Relief crashes through me so hard I almost laugh. He’s standing at the counter in one of my shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, hair still messy from bed. Two mugs sit beside the coffee pot. Leaving me wasn’t even on his mind. My chest aches.

I walk straight over to him and wrap my arms around his waist from behind before I can stop myself. “There you are,” I murmur into his hair.

He leans back against me and chuckles. “You act like I disappeared.”

“You did disappear,” I say honestly. That quiets him. I press a kiss to the side of his head. “Don’t do that to me.”

His shoulders soften slightly beneath my hands. “You answered his call,” Anders says after a moment. He isn’t accusing me of anything as much as he’s just pointing it out.

I tighten my arms around him. “I know.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know that too.”

He finally turns around in my hold, coffee mug warming his hands. His eyes search my face carefully like he’s trying to figure out whether I mean any of this now that daylight exists.