25. One Last Night
25
One Last Night
WINTER
“Come on.” Caleb kicks the door to the bedroom shut and walks over to the mini fridge pushed up in the corner. It’s filled with booze.
“Are we even allowed to be in here?” I question.
“This is my friend’s room. We’re good.” Caleb grabs the one bottle of water in the whole fridge.
“Why here?” I sit on the edge of the bed.
“People don’t go up those stairs to play board games, if you know what I mean. I bet he’s losing his mind out there, wondering what we’re doing.” He joins me.
“Yeah, well, he dumped me. He can’t be jealous.”
He lost that right when he tore my heart out of my chest and stepped on it.
He shrugs. “You two will find your way back to each other. You always do.”
I’m surprised. “Caleb, I hope you won’t mind me asking, but a few days ago, you were… I mean, isn’t this weird for you?”
“Because I caught feelings for you?” He laughs quietly. “Nah. When we met up at the coffee shop and I saw how miserable you were without him, I don’t know, I guess I had a revelation. I want to be loved like that. I want to be loved the way that you love him.” He briefly pauses. “I think I fell for you because you were the closest thing I had to a girlfriend, you know? Because we grew up together. But in the end… you belong with him. I have my Winter waiting for me somewhere, and I’ll find her, one day.” He smiles.
It feels like a huge weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.
“I never got to tell you, but… I’m sorry. About everything. It was wrong of me to tell you the truth on your birthday. It wasn’t my secret to tell. I hope you can forgive me.”
After everything I put him through when he had feelings for me, the way I led him on that night, I owe it to him. We both made mistakes. We’re both guilty.
“It’s okay.” I smile.
Several drunk couples walking in and out when they see the room is occupied later, we decide it might be time for us to head back out there. Seconds before we exit the bedroom, Caleb steps in my way and pops the first two buttons of his shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ll see.” He grins.
“Caleb…” I’m not sure I like where this is going.
“You want him to stop lying to himself or not?”
We hurry down to the first floor, and I’m relieved, yet a bit disappointed, not to see Haze anywhere. We enter the kitchen to play beer pong, and I instantly spot him. Chugging down a vodka bottle. Not drinking— chugging. This isn’t good.
No sign of Laura.
One of his douche friends notifies him of our presence with a nudge. He looks up and stares… hard. When he sees Caleb button up his shirt, I swear I can hear him mentally planning the murder. What’s his deal?
Caleb asks if I want to play beer pong, and I accept. Twenty minutes later, we’ve completely destroyed the two girls we were playing with. Caleb pulls me into a hug in the midst of joy, and Haze scampers out of the room with a tight jaw. The front door is slammed, but I don’t move a muscle. I pretend that I didn’t see it, that I’m unbothered, but all I want to do is follow and ask him why…
Why his mouth says something but his actions say otherwise. Why he pushes me away but can’t stand to see someone else pull me closer. Why he’s possessive of something he doesn’t want anymore.
Why the one who threw my heart on the ground can’t stand to see someone else pick it up.
The sound of the door closing invades my silent apartment, and I strip off my coat in a hurry. It’s close to 3:00 a.m. I search for Waze for a while, only to find him sleeping in my room. After a few hours of playing beer pong with Caleb, I managed to get a hold of Allie and Kendrick. They—big surprise—were quite busy the majority of the night. Tipsy, smudged-lipsticked Allie apologized a million times for leaving me alone, but I didn’t hold it against her. She’s in love. I’m happy for her. Kendrick said he would be crashing at Allie’s place tonight and coming home tomorrow.
Caleb offered to drive me back to the apartment, but he was wasted, so we ended up splitting a cab. I’d had a bit to drink myself, although not nearly as much as he did. Before I got out, he hit me with a “You’re welcome.” I’m not sure what he meant by that, but I’m way too exhausted to overthink it. I just want to get into a scorching shower and sleep it off.
When I step under the hot water, every muscle in my body unwinds. Ten minutes later, I’m reaching for the towel hanging off the corner of the bathtub and wrapping it around my body.
That’s when I hear them.
The footsteps.
I jolt around, holding on to my towel for dear life. This is it. I’m going to die. There’s an intruder in the apartment. They’re going to murder me, and the police will find me dead and naked in my bathroom, which, by the way, has always been my worst fucking nightmare.
I reach for the closest weapon I can find which happens to be a steel candleholder. The bathroom door creaks open, and I let out a gigantic breath of relief.
In the doorway is a very drunk Haze.
He’s barely maintaining his balance, leaning against the doorframe drunkenly. His eyes are bloodshot from all the alcohol, yet so mesmerizing I can’t tolerate staring directly into them.
“Haze, you scared the shit out of me.” My chest inflates with heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”
“As far as I know, I live here, baby,” he rasps.
He’s completely gone. Lights off. No one’s home.
“You don’t live here anymore,” I correct.
He’s about to say something but stops. “Why are you holding a candleholder?”
“Oh, right.” I put it down, embarrassed. “I thought I was going to have to fight an intruder naked.”
“With a candleholder?” He bites back a grin.
“Shut up.” I can’t help a small smile.
His pale eyes travel up and down my body shamelessly. He watches the drops of water rolling down my chest, the extra- small towel unsuccessfully covering my whole cleavage. It’s practically a miracle that my nipples aren’t showing. I can’t pull the towel up without exposing too much down there. Shit, I really should’ve checked the towel I picked.
“Why didn’t you go to Vic’s?” I ask.
He shrugs carelessly . “Because I don’t want to. I want to be here.” His lips quirk up into a grin. “With you.”
The lust in his eyes speaks a language only I know.
“Did something happen?” he asks before I can tell him to get out.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“With that son of a bitch. Did something happen?” He steps closer, anger clouding his judgment.
It clicks in my head.
“Caleb?”
He doesn’t reply, but I read between the lines.
“Why do you care?”
“That’s not an answer,” he growls.
Something takes over me. “What? It’s true. You shouldn’t care if he took me from behind right there in that bedroom, Haze. You can’t care. You don’t love me anymore, remember?” I’m surprised by my own guts. Who is this girl?
His features harden. He always hated even imagining someone touching me—at least, he did before. His expression keeps me gushing down a self-destructive path.
“What’s wrong, Hazie? You don’t like that? You don’t like thinking of another guy making me come? You don’t want to imagine him fucki—”
“Stop,” he snaps.
His anger catches me off guard.
“Relax. I’m just playing. Isn’t that your new thing? Playing people?” I taunt.
“So, nothing happened?” He sure is persistent.
I give a sigh. “No. Not that it should matter to you.”
His gaze remains locked on me. “It does.”
Certain I heard that wrong, I search his eyes.
“ It does matter .”
Right. That’s why you wanted nothing to do with me a few hours ago.
“I don’t have time for this. Please get out of my way so I can put some clothes on.”
All my request does is earn me a full, slow body scan. Sure, Winter. Remind him that you’re naked when he’s drunk and horny as hell. Good idea .
He doesn’t acknowledge what I just said or walk out like I expect him to. Instead, he ventures farther into the room and slams the door. But that’s not the important part…
The important part is what he does next.
He locks the door.
Gulp.
“What are you doing?” Tingles hasten down my spine.
He probably thinks Kendrick will be coming home soon. He doesn’t know he’s staying at Allie’s.
“I… I can’t do this anymore.” His voice roars with defeat—like dropping to your knees and surrendering once and for all.
“D-Do what?”
He takes a step forward, and I can feel my pulse throb uncontrollably in my neck. No, he can’t be doing this. Not when he just told me to leave him alone. Not when he went as far as to pretend he cheated on me to get me off his back.
“Haze, you’re just drunk and lonely. Go home.” My voice is trembling with pain… but it’s also quaking with desire. God, I wish I didn’t want you. Fucking Haze Adams. “You need sleep.”
He continues to close in on me. “I needyou.”
Holy shit, has it always been this hot in here?
He steps forward until my back merges with the freezing tiles of the bathroom wall.
“You don’t,” I disagree. “You don’t need me. You made that clear.” I brush off his lies before they dig their claws any deeper into my heart. Without a care given, he presses his broad and sculpted body to mine, leaving no room to escape—I’m not sure I would if I could—and I quickly realize his muscles aren’t the only hard parts on his body.
“I thought I could do this… I thought I could force you to stay away, but I can’t,” he rambles on, running his thumb across my lower lip. I desperately try and convince myself that he doesn’t affect me.
It’s fine. I’m good. I don’t feel anything.
“Not even for something so important. I tried. I really fucking tried, but I’m losing my goddamn mind.” He buries his head into the hollow of my neck, standing still for a few unbearable seconds until he starts to feather hot kisses up and down my jawline.
Okay. Fuck. I felt that .
“I can’t live without you, Winter.” He sounds so desperate I almost let myself believe him. Almost.
My throat closes up.
“Then why did you break my heart?”
I hate how vulnerable I sound, how fragile I feel when he stands this close to me. My walls are made of glass. And I’m terrified if he just looked closer, he’d notice. If he just blew on them, they’d shatter.
He gently cups my cheek, the lust in his gaze shifting into regret. “I never wanted to. I would never hurt you.”
What on earth does that mean?
I’m about to ask him a thousand questions, but his touch shuts me up. The way his hands explore my body… it’s precise, determined—like he designed every curve himself. His fingers dig into my hip bone, my tiny towel the only thing keeping him from my soaked skin. When he leans forward, my heart thunders so loud I’m surprised we haven’t gotten a noise complaint from the neighbors yet. Me? Exaggerating? Never.
There will be no going back if we cross this line. No matter how mad I am at him, no matter how much he hurt me, if I let him kiss me… I’ll let him do everything.
“You said you don’t love me anymore,” I remind him.
He looks conflicted. Like he’s fighting an endless war within himself. Then, his eyes jerk up, their intensity telling me a part of him won the battle. But which one?
“Want to know a secret?” His gravelly voice cuts me to the bone. He stops barely a few inches away from the disaster masquerading as a harmless kiss.
His breath hits my mouth when he says it.
“I lied.”
The itsy bit of self-control I thought was left in my body ditches me the second he kisses me. Don’t kiss him back!
Annnd I’m kissing him back.
His tongue slides past my lips, tangling with mine until I’m completely at his mercy. He holds me flat against the wall, continuously working my mouth like a pro, and I can’t, for the life of me, tell him to stop. God, I missed this. Any remnant of my reluctance turns to dust when he wraps my wet hair around his fist and releases my mouth. My body takes the reins, and my head falls back of its own accord, giving him clear access to my neck. He’s quick to make me squirm, focusing all his attention on my collarbone, then the soft spot below my ear. I moan as quietly as I can, yet too loud for my liking, and I feel him grin in satisfaction. When he tugs at my towel, I’m worried he might feel my thundering heart. Even drunk out of his mind, he looks up at me, waiting for my approval. This is one of the things I always loved about him. Haze would never do something I wasn’t comfortable with. He always needed more than the absence of objection. He needs a yes. Always wait for the yes.
I don’t even realize how quickly I whisper the word he seeks. He grins and pulls on my towel, watching carefully as it hits the ground. Then like he needs a second to fully revel in it, he steps backward for a front-row view. His eyes blatantly rake over my naked body, and to my greatest surprise, I don’t feel shy. Nor do I feel embarrassed. I feel empowered.
Sucking in a breath, he grunts. “You’re going to kill me, Kingston.”
Then his mouth is back on mine. But this time, we’re doing way more than kissing. Now, he’s coming for all I have. Cupping my breasts with both hands, he twirls his thumbs around my nipples so slightly I have to keep myself from pushing into his palm. Before I know it, his hands are everywhere: my waist, my stomach, my ass, until finally he slips downward and…
I gasp when he pushes a finger inside me.
Well, that escalated quickly.
I moan against his mouth, my eyes closing when he begins to curl one finger in and out of me. My body is already overloaded with sensations, but it’s when he adds a second finger effortlessly that I know…
I’m his.
Entirely, undeniably, and completely his.
“Fucking hell.” He withdraws his fingers completely before diving back in. “Always ready for me, aren’t we?” His thumb finds my clit and begins the sweet, torturous circles he mastered from day one. Shit, he knows me. This guy knows me, and his knowledge is dangerous. How can I be mad at him when he does this? When he can make me come undone with just the touch of a finger? How can I ever get over him when the only place I want to be is under him?
I brace my hands on his shoulders and grip them tightly. My nails dig into his skin as his fingers work their magic.
“Haze,” I moan when he speeds up his circles. I can’t help it. He’s just that good. Don’t ask me how we both end up naked on the bathroom floor—I couldn’t tell you. On top of me, he stretches one of the condoms we keep in the bathroom cabinet down his shaft and teases my entrance, pulling back whenever he’s too close to entering me. He’s not going to stop until I’m begging, but right now, I need him.
All of him.
He’s caught off guard when I spin us around and settle on top of him. My hands find his torso, and he blinks in surprise. He reaches for my breast, but I slap his hand away, trapping his wrists on each side of his head.
“I’m in charge today,” I tease.
He’s about to say something—that’s probably very cocky—but I shut him up in a matter of seconds. I wrap my hand around his length, hold on to the bathroom counter, and lower myself onto him.
“Holy fuck…” He throws his head back with a grunt. I can deny my feelings to the end of the world, but my body missed him, no matter the stories my brain loves telling itself. The way I effortlessly adjust to his size, the warmth building up between my thighs, my reactions to his thrusting don’t lie.
When firm hands cage my waist and guide me down quick and hard, my plan to be in charge is blown to pieces and swapped with pure instinct. Haze and I have always had crazy sex, but this time feels different, like a war between love and hatred. A mix between “I love you” and “we were doomed from the start.”
I flitter my eyes shut and grip the counter so tightly my knuckles turn white. I’m confident this couldn’t get any better until he wraps a hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down into a horizontal position. My chest comes flush with his, and the pace isn’t up to me anymore. It’s all him. And he likes it rough.
“Oh my God.” I can’t help myself.
“Quiet, baby. Kendrick could come home any second,” he has the audacity to say while he pounds into me to the point of making me forget my own name. I know he doesn’t really give a shit about Kendrick hearing us, but he loves the thought of making me feel so good that I can’t keep quiet.
I consider telling him that he’s not coming home, but I love the intensity of this moment. Here we are, going at it on the bathroom floor like animals, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more alive in my entire life.
“He’s not coming home tonight,” I finally say, and Haze stops moving so abruptly my body aches for him.
He arches an eyebrow. “And you just say that now?”
Well, damn.
Before I can even come up with a good enough response, I’m off the floor and into his arms. My legs wrap around his hips while he slams the door open and walks into the kitchen.
“From the second we moved in here, I’ve wanted to take you everywhere in this room,” he says in my ear. Oh my… This may be the second time we’ve ever been able to have sex outside of the bedroom, and we’ve lived here for months already. His hands band around the back of my thighs, and he plants me on the freezing kitchen island.
“On your back,” he commands, and my heart skips a beat at his authority. He rests my leg up against his shoulder and runs two fingers up and down my entrance, as if to make sure that I’m still ready. With him, I always am. Satisfied with his discovery, he nudges himself all the way inside me with a thrust deep enough to make me see stars .
We both stop for that split, intoxicating second I’ve grown to love so much. That fleeting moment where we both enjoy feeling each other fully. The euphoric sensation reminding me that he’s the high I never want to come down from. He begins to move again, slowly at first, then fast.
Barely a few minutes in, he snaps, “Fuck, I need more.”
He pulls out and leads me down the island before we drop together onto the couch. Our bodies collide and the sudden closure, the weight of his rising chest on top of mine… it makes me more emotional than I anticipated. I was fine in the bathroom a second ago, but this… this isn’t sex. This is so much more. Snaking his arm between us so he can rub me in rough, precise circles, he stares deeply—deadly—into my eyes.
His burning skin feels like a cure to a disease I never knew I had. Some rare illness only he can take away. He’s the pain and the medicine, the addiction and the rehab. He’s the defibrillator and the heart attack.
And fuck, I don’t mind being sick if he’s the one to save my life.
I don’t mind being broken if he’s the one to fix me.
He slams into me repeatedly, and I can tell from the way his body shakes in waves that he’s close. I am, too. My climax begins in my toes, climbs up my legs, my thighs, until, finally, it reaches my center and my mouth drops open. I begin convulsing under him, falling apart with each thrust, and he catches on, hearing my body’s message loud and clear. Grunting, he speeds up his circles and kisses me deeper, only to follow shortly after me. He rams harder until he gives in and spills into the condom.
Like I’m his safe haven, a sanctuary where only he can go, he rests his face in my neck. I can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, but I doubt he can feel mine since he just fucked the life out of me. I’m classy, I know. He pulls out slowly and props himself up with both arms. Then, he presses his forehead to mine.
“I love you. So fucking much,” he says in a whisper.
I don’t answer, afraid—terrified—that he’s just saying that because he’s caught up in the moment. Or because I made him come. Hard .
“We’re not done. Give me fifteen minutes.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. When he gets off me, lies back on the couch, and leads me into his arms, I never want to leave them. I still love him.
Of course I do .
I’d take him back in a heartbeat if he still wanted me. I’d gladly surrender my heart to him all over again if he just promised to change. It’s pathetic, so pathetic it makes my skin crawl, but it’s the truth. He said he still loves me. That he lied about the whole thing, and the only thought haunting my mind while I lie naked in the arms of the only guy I’ve ever loved is…
Please don’t let me wake up alone in the morning.