Page 13 of The Sweetest Return

I hated the words, but Dre had never lied to me simply because a lie would feel better.

He leaned across the console and cupped the back of my neck until our foreheads touched.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

For a moment, I let myself have him exactly as he was. His scent still on my skin. His warm hand at my neck. His jacket around me like one more piece of him I was about to walk away wearing.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered.

“Me neither.”

Neither of us said the word over. We didn't have to.

Then he kissed me.

Nothing like upstairs. There was no heat to hide inside this one, only the softness of his mouth and all the things neither of us could promise.

When he pulled away, I caught the front of his coat.

“Again.”

He kissed me again.

I held on until he stopped.

Dre walked me to the quad and waited while I fought with the key because my hands would not stop shaking. At the threshold, I turned, still wanting something impossible from him. A sentence that would make New York, football, and distance surrender because we loved each other.

Instead, he brushed the dampness beneath my eye.

“Get some sleep, Mani.”

He kissed my forehead and walked away.

I watched him until I couldn’t see him anymore.

Inside, the hallway was too bright and too quiet. I looked down at the jacket hanging off me, at the sleeves covering most of my hands, at his number on my arm.

I should have taken it off.

Folded it.

Given it back before I let myself leave with one more thing that belonged to him.

But I couldn’t.

Not yet.

I would mail it to him when my throat stopped closing every time I thought about his face. When my eyes stopped filling before I could make it across a room. When I could touch the purple wool and gold leather without remembering how special I had felt the night he gave it to me.

Tonight, I kept it on.

By the time I reached my room, whatever had been holding me together was gone.

Camille took one look at my face, closed the casebook in her lap, and stood.

“Oh, friend.”