Page 88 of Broken Compass


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We’re just friends. And I don’t know if I can do this anymore.

“You’re the one who stayed,” she whispers. “I wanted you to come with us, remember? You stayed for your grandfather, and your sister.”

“You’re the one who left.”

She claps a hand over her mouth and goddammit, her eyes are all shiny and wet. I can’t stand it when girls cry.

When she cries. Last thing I want is to cause her sorrow. She drives the knife into my chest so easily, reminding me it’s all my fault, yet again.

r /> My heart starts to race. Heat gathers in my chest, and a tightening feeling compresses my lungs, turning my breathing shallow, so shallow I hardly get any air in.

“Fuck, you’re right, okay? I’m sorry. I stayed, but I had to.”

She wipes at her eyes. “I get it.”

“Okay.” My hand starts tapping restlessly on my knee. I count the taps in my head, one two three, one two three. “I had to stay. I had to stay.”

“West. It’s okay. Stop that.”

My hand is tapping faster. “I had to stay. I’m sorry. I’m—”

“West.” She throws herself into my arms, stopping me. Not prepared for her hug, the feel of her slim body on mine, I hiss. My hands come up behind her back to hold her. My voice is gone, the words caught between my teeth. “Stop,” she whispers.

A strange sound leaves my throat. I’m not sure I’ll ever breathe again. My chest hurts.

“Hold me,” she says, and my hold on her tightens, even as my breathing finally eases and I draw in sweet air. “Just hold me.”

I tried so hard to ignore my need for her this past year. She’s with the guys she wants. I wonder if she’s made her choice yet between the two, but truth is, I don’t fucking wanna know who she chose over me.

And now she’s in my arms as if this past year hasn’t passed, as if all that fucking loneliness and pain and the thought of her in another guy’s embrace never haunted me. All my nightmares, and all the dreams where she’s moaning underneath me, all of it… erased in the warmth of her touch.

I’m so fucking lost without her. One brush of her skin on mine is enough to shatter my self-control. I struggle to hold onto its shreds.

One kiss. One more damn kiss, that’s all I ask. Even if it’s the last kiss I’ll ever have of her.

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” she mumbles against my shoulder, and pulls back a little. “They’re your family. Of course you stayed. I’m such a bad friend I don’t even know what’s wrong with your grandfather.”

Too many things. But, no, nothing’s wrong with him. It’s me. I’m the one who’s fucking everything up.

“Was it a heart condition?”

Oh. That. “Yeah. It’s a genetic thing. Can’t be fixed without major surgery, and they aren’t sure he’d survive it, so…” I shrug.

“I’m so sorry, West.”

“Not your fault. I…”

Her face turns up and her mouth brushes over mine, taking away my fucking breath. My body’s reaction is a jolt, a current streaking through me, lighting me up.

“West…” she breathes, and I haul her closer, in my lap, crushing our mouths together.

Fuck, oh God… it feels good. So good it hurts. So distracting. She tastes so sweet, and the press of her tits against my chest is driving me insane.

Her hands slip behind my neck and she straddles me, still kissing me, swallowing my heartfelt groan. I’m so damn hard I can’t stand it, and in real danger of coming in my pants.

I should stop this before it goes off the rails.

But when I flip her over on the sofa and press myself between her thighs, I find I can’t. Can’t stop kissing her, molding my body to hers. Her touch both ignites me and soothes me, the combination blowing my mind.

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