Page 75 of Apparently, I’m Torture

Thursday Night

Tristy’s Coffee Shop

Lilly splayed on the couch, her naked, beautiful body shaking with laughter. I collapsed on the ground, my blood still humming, as I wiped her juices from her thighs.

Her laughter died, and she shook her head at the ceiling. “This is crazy.”

I gave her a small smile. “Maybe it is.”

It was like my voice woke her from her thoughts. Her wide green eyes swung to me, and she lifted herself up and out of reach, clutching her pile of clothes to her chest.

It was definitely sobering.

For a minute there, for a moment, I lost myself in the feel of her, in the idea of us together. And it felt better than I could’ve imagined.

“Lilly, that was–”

“Don’t you dare say that was a mistake,” she warned, cold and angry.

We sat and stared at each other. Her shoulders were braced, her jaw was set, her eyes were wide, lips gathered into a thin line. She gripped her clothes to her, knuckles white. Even her toes were curled. She was waiting for a fight.

I didn’t have any more to give her.

It’s been five years. And in that time, I never once stopped thinking of her. I never stopped wanting her.

Time away dulled the pain, and I used it, channeling it into projects that helped turn me into a sought-after leader in education. I helped kids, families, and teachers, easing their lives by giving them everything I had.

But I never forgot her, as much as I wanted to. No matter how hard I tried, what I did or who I dated. Lilly Fares was ingrained into me. Into my skin, seeping into my pores, coursing through my blood.

It’s been a lonely five fucking years.

“I wasn’t going to,” I murmured. I had to tear my eyes from her, take a breath and swallow. My body felt heavy. I was physically wrecked, and I needed sleep. But right now, what I really needed was to make things right between us.

She shook her head, her shoulders dropping, grip loosening. Her brows gathered close by her jade eyes, searching me.

“Lilly.” I reached up, wrapped an arm around her and dragged her onto the floor with me. She gave me a half-hearted protest and pushed against me a little, but once she was settled into my lap, she relaxed. I nuzzled into her hair and said, “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

“You don’t?” she asked, and when I shook my head, her fingers started trailing circles along my chest.

“I’m tired of it. I’m tired of fighting this.”

“What do you mean?” she whispered as she tilted her chin, her brows knit in confusion.

I sighed and leaned my head against the wall. There was so much to explain. My feelings then, my feelings now. Why I tried to pretend she didn’t exist for five years while I built my career. Where did I start? Where could I start?

“Remember when you and Mia showed up here, dressed for that costume party?”

“Hmm?” she asked, and I could tell she was turning it over, trying to place it. Then she hummed as she remembered. “You mean when I dressed as Rainbow Dash, and Mia was Ariel?”

“That’s the one.” I stroked her hair and tightened my grip on her waist. It felt so good to have her in my arms, so close. The sex we just had; it was life-altering. So incredible. And I wanted more, but I dreamed of just holding her like this. “I was so jealous, and so close to picking a fight with you over Trevor.”

She turned her face to look up at me, and there was an anxious confusion there, as easy to read as it always was. But she wanted to know everything, and I was going to tell her. It was the least I could do.

“You were?” she asked. “Why?”

I drew her closer to me. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

She shook her head and I let out another breath.