Page 32 of Down Bad

Oh, fuck me, what have I started?

The hand he put on my cheek slides to the back of my head, where he starts pulling our faces together even more. The kiss grows stronger. I hear him breathe and choke as he kisses me with more and more strength, nearly to the point that it hurts. I grab that hand too and pin it to the wall with the other.

Wyatt, against the brick, against my body.

Our faces at war.

I let go of his hands and cradle his head, losing my mind.

He gains footing and presses forward, causing me to stumble back until I’m against the porch railing.

Neither of us are in control.

What am I doing?

We pull away at the same time. Panting. Gripping each other’s faces. Staring. Confused.

“Diego …?” he whispers again.

I stare at him for five seconds longer.

Then let go, stumble off the porch, and race back to my house. I slam the door shut, back against it, and slide to the floor, fingers on my lips, staring ahead into the dark.

—7—

Wyatt

I can still feel Diego on my lips.

His powerful hands around my wrists, holding me to the wall.

Diego …

I have half a mind to follow him right on over to that house, to tell him it’s okay, to calm him down.

But maybe I don’t know what’s really going on here.

Maybe it wasn’t just a kiss to him.

It’s probably the first time I’ve actually been honest enough with myself to say: I do not truly know Diego Valdez.

Who he is.

What he wants.

What his life was like before he became my neighbor.

My not-quite-a-neighbor neighbor.

I pick up the roses and whatever else I dropped. Go back into the house.

And lock my door.

I do it so fast, I don’t even realize I’ve done it at first.

I can’t remember the last time I locked my door.

It feels wrong somehow.