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I throw on athletic shorts and a hoodie and run downstairs, opening the door just in time to see her sneak the driver’s side door closed and turn to walk away.
Like hell.
“Really, Princess? You’re just going to leave without a goodbye kiss?” I call out, watching her freeze mid-step.
Her shoulder tense and her hands curl up into fists. For a moment, I think she might actually run. Not that I’d let her get far. I bet the keys to the Subaru are still in the ignition.
I jog over to where she stands, bare feet slapping on the cobblestone.
“Seriously? What did you think? That you were just going to sneak over while I was asleep, drop my shit off and run?” I ask. The razor-sharp edge of my words shock even me.
Still, she doesn’t move.
“Turn around,” I tell her, but she doesn’t.
“Keaton, look at me.”
Her spine stiffens as she stands a little straighter, but still, she refuses to face me.
“Look at me!”
She whips around lightning fast, and I expect venom in her words. Only, I’m met with tears in her whiskey-colored eyes.
“Baby,” I whisper, shocked by the sight of her so undone, but when I reach out to comfort her, she jerks away, just out of reach.
“Keaton, what happened?”
The anger that I was ready to bring to battle melts away with every passing second, only to be replaced with this severe need to fix whatever has put that look in her eyes.
“Don’t,” her voice cracks as she backs away again, pleading with me not to touch her.
My brain can’t make sense of that. Like it’s refusing to believe that she’s denying us the ability to draw her in and hold her close. To breathe in her warmth and soothe away her pain.
“I don’t understand,” I admit, brows knit together and eyes searching hers for a reason.
“I can’t,” is all she says, like it’s physically difficult for her to utter even those few words.
“Can’t what?”
“This… I can’t,” she says.
I stare at her, unmoving. Shocked. I had a feeling she had spooked herself, sure. But to hear her say those words with tears brimming her eyes… doesn't make sense.
“What do you mean, this?” I ask, my voice hoarse and thick with worry.
She shakes her head, fighting back tears and settles her gaze somewhere over my shoulder, like the act of looking me in the eye is just too hard.
Well, that's too bad. If I have to be present for this, then so does she.
I reach out and grasp her by the chin — not hard enough to leave a mark, but firm enough to tell her I want her eyes to remain on mine — and turn her to face me.
She jerks her head back like the touch burns her, and I furrow my brows, completely at a loss.
“What the fuck, Keaton? What’s going on? I get that maybe this was all too fast, but you kissed me,” I say, frustrated.
“I know,” she whispers, sniffling slightly.
“I thought you wanted to,” I say.
