Chapter 26 #2
He’d learned her body better than she knew it in this way, and he didn’t even have to enter her to bring her to climax. His hand between her legs was all it took.
She hadn’t even come down from the ceiling when he thrust inside her body. This was carnal and fast, and it was necessary. So very necessary.
Taking final control, she rolled him to his back. He went willingly, a longing gaze of gratification as she mounted him and rode him to completion. Rode them both there.
She forgot about everything for the moment as they stared at each other in more than a little shock at the intensity of what they’d just done together.
“I’m falling in love with you, Molly.” He lifted his hand to her neck and pulled her to him, sliding out of her as he tucked her against his side.
No. Falling in love was not allowed. Definitely not allowed. “Then we need to stop,” she said. “Nip this in the bud.”
He frowned. Lifted on his arm. “Maybe we need to spend some time planting this garden.”
“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t do that to you.”
“To me or with me?” he asked, grabbing a tissue to deal with the condom situation.
“To you,” she said. “Don’t fall in love with me.”
“No.” He pinned her under his body. “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me. You’re doing this because you’re terrified of relying on someone else.”
Palm pressed to the smattering of hair on his chest, she said, “My world is crumbling.”
“Because you keep chipping away at yourself.”
“That’s not fair.” She closed her eyes.
He waited. Said nothing. Didn’t remove his weight from on top of her.
Finally, she opened her eyes. “You’re not being fair,” he said.
Life wasn’t fair. It wasn’t her. “Why are you going to buy the cow when I’m giving you the cheese for free?”
Okay, so that didn’t sound quite like she’d meant it to.
He stared at her a long beat before saying, “I have no idea what that means.”
Ugh. “That’s the problem, you know? Because I can’t give you milk. And I don’t want to be a cow. But I don’t want to be a goat either. I don’t really like barnyard animals, and I know nothing about gardening.”
“Molly?” Gavin took an exceptional amount of care as he moved off her. “I don’t need milk. I’m good with other beverage choices. I’m willing to compromise, and we don’t have to go to any farms.”
He didn’t get it. Really didn’t get it. “You don’t even
know what I’m talking about!”
“I don’t, but I’m still willing to compromise. That’s what you do when you fall in love with someone.”
She shook her head. Sat up. Searched for her clothes in the mess they’d made of the blankets. “That’s why this can’t work.”
“Because I’ll compromise?” He didn’t stand up, didn’t look for his clothes.
She turned, held her shirt against her chest. “Because I don’t think I can.”
“Oh.” He nodded, that look of longing in his expression changing. Shifting to something else. Something she didn’t know.
“Okay,” he said, standing and pulling on his boxers. Running a hand through his hair. “You can’t compromise. Okay.”
He didn’t look okay. He finished getting dressed, just as she did.
“Okay,” he said, softer, backing up, hands held in a position of surrender.
She felt each inch between them as it expanded, as though those steps he made were miles.
“Gavin, I’m sorry,” she said. She really was; she didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Especially him. “I will not be the reason you’re unhappy.”
He stopped his backward movement. “You’re just going to be the reason you’re unhappy.”
“So unfair,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if she meant her or him or both of them.
“Or is it that you’ve decided we’ll both be unhappy?” Gavin said, standing still, his hands clenching and
unclenching. “So, we just stop. That’s what you want?”
“We’re going to go back to pretend.” That’s it. That’s
what this had to be.
“You want to be pretend?” he said, like she’d asked if he could please drive her to the moon.
She nodded. “That’s all I can offer you.”
“Great. Fine.” He nodded. Curt. “That’s what I’ll take if that’s all you’re giving. Just know that for me? This isn’t pretend.”
“After the finals, we have to be done.” For everyone. “So I can go off and be happy and you can stay alone
and be miserable?”
No. Not that. “Maybe I’ll be happy alone.” They both knew that was a lie.
“Right. You’ll be happy. All by yourself. Just like always.” He was pissed. She understood.
“We’re just going so fast,” she said. “We’ve known each other for years.”
She said nothing to that. There wasn’t anything to say.
Nothing she could say.
He’d see, though. This was for the best, and he’d see that.
Maybe it’d take a little time, since she’d let things get so out of hand, but he’d see it.
Then he could be with Cassidy and they could live a long, happy life together and fill the dining room table with kids.
Cassidy and Evelyn would be great friends.
Molly would always have Oliver. And Agnes. Even when she moved away with Charlie, she’d still go visit them. It’d be fine.
Not a big deal.
Gavin waited, probably to see if she’d say anything else.
But she wouldn’t. No. She couldn’t.
He closed the door behind him as he walked out of the room.
She stayed completely still as the back door opened and closed. Still as his Escalade started up.
Only as the gravel crunched under his tires did the hiccupped sob break free from the restraints she’d hung on to.
Once that flood opened, the tears just came. And came.
And came some more.