Chapter 20 #5
before you hit the ground.
“We wouldn’t be able to make this work.
“Like, at all.”
The second I say it,
it hurts, like a punch I threw at myself.
But when I see his face,
my words don’t hurt anymore.
Because the heartbreak in his eyes
blows a fist through my chest.
It doesn’t hit him all at once.
It seeps into him,
a quiet wound locking up his jaw,
eyes holding too much,
as if he’s bleeding from somewhere I can’t see,
and trying to keep it from spilling out.
He turns his head to the side,
wets his bottom lip, tasting the sentence,
and decides it tastes like poison.
“Nah. That ain’t fuckin’ happenin’.”
He shakes his head.
There’s denial in his smile,
and it pisses me off.
He brings our joint hands into his lap,
pulling us closer together.
“If you think I’m walkin’ away from you again, you’re outta your damn mind." His voice is serious, stripped, his stare nailing the words into me.
Like he picked up the live grenade I’d dropped between us,
threw it back like a shot of Fireball,
and swallowed the blast.
“Allison, if this is your way of tryin’ to push me out the door, you’re doing a terrible job,” he says with a tired, frustrated grin. Because all this shit you’re tellin’ me?…
“It's just pullin' me in deeper."
I blink.
Then I lean back,
taking my hand with me.
Because yeah,
this man’s actually fucking insane.
Who in their right mind signs up for this?
For me?
A short laugh escapes me. I can’t stop it.
It seems I've caught his madness.
“Okay.
“You’re gonna have to back up a sec. I’m lost.”
There’s a smile on my face that doesn’t belong.
It wandered in,
got lost,
confused like the rest of me.
“None of this is making any sense.
“I came here to make sure you knew none of this was your fault. That it wasn’t a lie. I just—”
I break off and look around the room,
as if someone's fucking with me.
“I wanted to come here to say it wasn’t fake.
“That’s all it was supposed to be.”
It wasn’t supposed to go like this.
All of his words punctured holes into me,
and I’m bleeding all over the damn floor.
How does he expect me to walk away now without slipping?
“And you—you were supposed to get mad, disgusted with me, maybe even pity me. Then show me the door.”
I stare at him in disbelief,
then my brows snap together.
“Wait—I did mention the Baby Contract already, right? My genius scam where I get mine and give back jack shit—not feelings, not favors, not a fuckin’ thing but money?”
His knee's going now,
eyes fixed somewhere over my shoulder.
“Jesus, Allison—” He blows out a breath. “Yeah, you keep buildin’ escape routes, exits, doors I never asked for, and I keep watchin' you standin’ in front of ‘em, blockin’ it every damn time.”
He laughs empty, incredulously,
wiping his forehead with his wrist.
“You think some contract scares me more than losin’ a chance at this?”
“You walked, Andrew,” I remind him. “And now you’re sitting here asking for what, exactly?”
His eyes dart back to mine, his jaw tight—
“What the fuck was I supposed to do?
“What would you have done, huh?”
Yeah, you askin’ the wrong fuckin’ girl.
He shuts his eyes, trying to calm down.
“I thought I was the problem,”
he breathes out.
“I thought I was doin’ right by you.”
His gaze drops to his hand.
It’s trembling, and he shoots me a sideways glance, shaking his head.
“You always do this to me,” he says, smoothing his hand down the front of his pants to iron the panic out of it. “You drive me so fuckin’ insane, I’m barely holdin’ on here.”
He keeps blinking,
trying to calm the tremble in him,
but it’s not working.
“Jesus—I’m fuckin’ losin’ it.”
His chest's rising too fast, eyes darting.
He’s drowning and doesn’t want me to see it.
“Andrew—hey—”
“Nah. You don’t get it—” he cuts me off, the panic creeping up his neck. “I don’t lose my shit like this.” He shifts in the chair, rubbing his hand across his chest. “But I can’t fuckin’ shut it off.”
He’s falling apart, and it's splitting me in half.
He once said he’s the wall everyone leans on.
Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to be for him.
Maybe that’s why I’ve spent years building my walls so high and strong.
Not to keep him out,
but to give him a safe place to fall into.
“C’mere,” I say, reaching for his hand,
dragging him closer,
steering him until my knee slips between his.
He watches me guide his hand lower, lower.
Until it’s resting between my thighs,
making him go still.
My eyes flutter shut
long enough to remember
I’m not immune to his touch.
His fingers barely move, afraid.
The words scrape out of me—
“Something steady.”
If he’s going to fall apart,
I want him falling into me. Not the floor.
His eyes meet mine,
wild and worn and wired.
Then the storm drops as he pulls me closer with both hands.
One on the outside of my thigh—anchoring.
The other on the inside—gripping.
I melt forward without thinking,
my hand slipping across his back,
his temple falling into mine.
His eyes close,
an exhale shredding out of him in pieces.
Then he swallows.
“God, I needed this so fuckin’ bad…”
He whispers it to himself,
his hand’s still shaking.
His thumb brushes the inside of my thigh first.
Then his whole palm follows,
dragging heat behind it.
Slow. Clumsy. Possessive.
I trail my hand up his spine,
and his lungs listen.
His next breath comes easier.
His hand climbs higher.
Higher.
All the way up,
his fingertips slipping under my skort,
until they reach the end of my thigh,
and his thumb traces the crease.
Soft. Careful. Another breath slips out of him.
Then another. And another.
Fast. Then slow. And slower.
His whole body exhales.
The shaking leaves him.
The bouncing in his leg ceases.
His breath spills out of him steady
like I gave it back.
“Jesus—” His laugh is small, winded, but his throat’s tight. He watches his palm slide over the warmth of my skin. “You got that magic touch, swear to God.
“Tear me apart, piece me together,
“all in the same fuckin’ breath.”
And he holds me there,
pinned between his knees.
His thumb keeps moving. He’s not letting go.
He knows what I said, and he doesn’t care.
His chin tips up,
eyes sinking into me. “Sonny.”
His voice wraps around it,
as if it’s always been his.
“I’m still here.
“You’re still here.
“We’re both still here.”
His hand’s still holding my thigh,
a warm sedative in every stroke.
“And I gotta feelin’ we’re both always gonna circle right back here.” His eyes slide between mine. “So what the fuck you so afraid of, huh? ‘Cause it sure as hell ain’t me.”
He makes a point of squeezing my thigh.
“I just—I need to know. What is it that makes you so sure this can’t work?”
Bro.
I gave you reasons and you still want more?
What the hell is left?
What more can I give you without cutting parts of me away?
“Andrew…”
I swallow.
“You’re you.”
I gesture at him as if that explains it.
“And I’m… ”
I blink.
“I.”
I used to be smart. I used to know things.
I hang my head with a laugh, because wow—
“Honest to God—thought everything I told you was enough.”
Then I sigh through an I’m-fucked smile.
It’s not cute—it’s fatal.
It’s not sweet—it’s sick.
Because it’s too late.
I’m so fucking weak for this man,
I’m dying on it.
“You deserve someone not tied down by addiction and contracts and—” I wave a hand at myself, the system, the whole damn situation, “—whatever the fuck this is,” I say.
“This life? I built it on the foundation of my fears just to survive. Every rule I made was to keep my head above water. So, yeah. It protects me. But it doesn’t protect you, Drew.
You don’t build a whole life on fear, then invite something good into it. ”
My laugh bleeds out
like air from a slit in my chest.
“Fuck—I want you outside of it.
“All the way at the shoreline.
“Safe from all this.”
His stare falls away. So does one of his hands.
He replaces it with the support of his thigh,
leaning mine against the inside of his.
Then he takes my hand,
tongue running across his bottom lip.
“So you’re telling me…”
He stretches it out to make sure I hear it.
“You’d rather keep things safe
“than take a risk?”
My jaw locks. “It’s not that simple—”
“No. It is.
“You’d rather play it safe with some guy you don’t give a fuck about, than take a shot at somethin’ real with me?”
Then stillness.
A dumb stare.
Well, shit.
Say something back.
Say anything.
But say something that makes complete sense.
“That’s what I'm sayin', Drew.
“I don’t wanna risk you.”
Alright… Not a lie,
but nervous about where this is heading…
“I don’t. I can’t. Hurting you? Breaking you?” I shake my head. “You think I can live with that? I can’t even risk the way you look at me. I’d rather never look into your eyes again than watch it change.”
Fuck—my heart's controlling my mouth, giggling,
while my brain's drunk somewhere.
“So, yeah—I’d play it safe with someone I could give two shits about before ever risking that.”
He stops, hand paused on my thigh,
eyes locked, mouth parted.
As if he witnessed a miracle and a tragedy at once.
When he leans back, his eyes comb my face,
checking to see if I meant what I said.
Then comes half of a smile. “Sonny.”
He laces our fingers together.
“I’m only gonna say this once.”
Then he lifts his brows like—baby, listen up.
“You keep talkin’ like you know what’s best for me. What I want… What I deserve… You wanna talk about what I deserve?
“I deserve the fuckin’ choice.”
He pulls my hand into his lap again,
collecting me piece by piece.
“It’s my fuckin’ heart, Sonny.
“My body.
“My soul.
“My sanity.
“Even my cock—”
a breathy laugh escapes him.
“Yeah, angel, that too.
“And I get to decide who I give myself to.
“Who I wanna risk it for.
“So if it all goes to shit?” He shrugs. “At least I went all in for the person I fuckin’ chose.”
Well, fuck me silent.
Cock and soul. That’s it. I’m done. Tap out. Kill me.
Cock and soul, and now I’m moist and mute.
“You’re insane,” I exhale.
“You’re—God—you’re crazy.”
I laugh. Dumbfounded. Breathless.
“You forget the part where there's another guy?”
It comes out as a test to see if he’ll flinch.
He doesn’t.
'Cause he's a whole pie of psycho.
“As if you could stand the thought of another guy touching me, much less get me off. And now you wanna talk about a choice like I’m not one hundred percent gonna fuck up? Like this isn’t gonna destroy me and everything I’ve built?”
My voice climbs. I can hear it.
That edge. That shake.
“I can see it coming from a mile away. You? Me? This?” I point between us. “We’re sitting here asking for it. Like two fuckin’ lunatics.”
I stop. I have to. My lungs won’t work with his stare hitched to mine.
This is why I don’t do Italians.
Their fevered intensity gets too close,
and suddenly
your lungs don’t belong to you anymore.
Andrew just smiles,
eyes lingering on me
long enough to land in my stomach.
It makes me want to throw this glass at the wall. Or kiss him until I forget why I started talking in the first place.
His hand dips down my thigh again.
“You done?” he asks.
“No.” It slips out stubborn.
“You have no idea, Drew.
“I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
He smiles his cocky-ass Jersey smile.
“C’mon, Sonny. You say dangerous like it’s a bad thing.”
I suck in a breath. “Andrew…”
“I’m not Ben.”
His words make me freeze.
He cocks a brow. “Scares you, don't it?
“The thought that I might be the one you could actually fall for."
It lands in the center of my chest,
a dart with his name on it.
Bullseye.
Yes, it fuckin’ scares me.
Because you don’t get it.
I’d never risk hurting you, so why the hell are you so willing to risk hurting me?
Why do you get to be brave with an addiction and system that’s not yours?
You have no idea what you’re asking me to gamble.
No clue what it cost me just to sit here.
I’ve got a hundred reasons not to do this.
And only one reason to say yes—you.
But it’s not worth losing it all in the end.
Which is what will happen.
So there’s only one answer.
I shake my head. “No, Drew.”
His eyes narrow—
His breath cuts short—
And then—
BAM.
The door flies open so hard
it smacks against the wall.
Music and noise crash in.
My head jerks toward the door.
Andrew turns.
It’s barback guy, from when I first walked in,
standing in the doorway,
eyes drifting from me,
to Andrew,
back to me.
His brow lifts,
a smirk spreading as he folds his arms,
leaning into the doorway.
“Jesus, Andrew. Every time I open this fuckin’ door, you’re wrist-deep in someone new.” He nudges his chin. “Don’t forget. You hogged the last one. You got five minutes before I’m knockin’ for my turn, bro. I want this one next.”