30. Bailey
thirty
Bailey
It’s hot. I’m hot. Ew.
I open my eyes and find myself wrapped around him like a koala in a tree and my cheeks heat with embarrassment.
Careful not to disturb him, I slowly unravel my legs and arms from the tangle of our limbs and toss the covers off.
The relief is instant. Cool air calms my racing heart and thoughts.
This is bad. He might as well adopt a few drawers at this point.
Yikes.
I hear his footfalls as I start on my second cup of coffee, legs pulled up in the chair as I fight the fog of sleep.
Fuck, he’s beautiful. Nothing but sweatpants and abs walk into my kitchen and I can’t help but stare.
“Like what you see?”
I swallow.
“Yup” I say.
He laughs as he slowly makes his way to me, stopping in front of me. He takes my coffee mug from my hands and sets it on the table.
Before he can come any closer I blurt, “Did you brush your teeth?”
His smile widens and he huffs, “Of course I did.”
I sigh in relief and feel my shoulders relax as he leans in to kiss me. The kiss is gentle. Soft. Warming me in places the coffee couldn’t reach.
“Get dressed, I want breakfast,” he says.
“What? Why?”
“Come on,” he says, holding a hand out.
I groan. “Fine.”
The walk to the cafe is quiet, the morning air still. Warmth spreads along my arm and chest when my hand accidentally brushes his.
I wish I could hold it.
The breeze is cool, carrying with it a scent of cardamom and leather. Somehow carrying him with it. The desire to throw him against the brick wall of the adjacent building is overwhelming but I push it down, focusing on my breathing.
As we near the alleyway before the restaurant my heart rate picks up. A wild rhythm that clouds my judgement.
I grab his hand and pull him into the small opening, wedging us between the walls.
“What’s this?” He asks, smiling.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
My hands find his hips, unable to resist his pull.
I quickly scan the area, making sure no one is around. I catch a look on his face I can’t discern but it’s gone before I can remember to investigate further.
Too distracted by his nearness.
“Kiss me.” I say.
His eyes are wide, brows raised.
“Please,” I add.
He gently takes my chin, tilting my head up as if in question.
I don’t break his gaze, hoping he sees my answer.
He brings his lips to mine and the world melts around us, nothing in motion but us. The only sounds I hear are ours. The only smell, his.
I’m lost in him. In everything he is despite everything I’m not. He deserves so much more but I can’t stay away. I can’t seem to let go.
I wrap my hands around his back and pull him closer. Needing to be his in this moment.
Only his.
“Bailey?” A familiar voice startles me and I’m catapulted back into reality as I back away from Lolly.
Oh, god. Oh fuck.
“Jake?” I squeak.
“Bailey, what the fuck are you doing?” His brows are furrowed, eyes brimming with fury. “Disgusting,” he huffs. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he says as he stomps away.
No. This can’t be happening.
I can’t breathe. The air. The air is wrong. I’m all wrong. This is wrong.
“You okay, green eyes?” Oliver asks gently. “Who was he?”
His voice sounds far away, muffled by the whirring in my ears. My hands are tingling and my lips are going numb. My breaths are coming too quickly and I can’t fucking stop the train that is headed straight for me.
“Jake,” I whisper. “My cousin,” I add before the lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak.
Darkness envelops my peripheral vision and the band around my chest tightens its grip.
I can’t pull in enough air. It’s too tight.
Something inside me shatters, sending shards in a complicated explosion of humiliation and grief.
My back slams against the brick wall behind me as I slide down until my ass hits the concrete. I pull my knees to my chest, trying to catch my breath as hot tears fall through silent sobs. A heavy rain begins to fall, the sound barely audible through the blood rushing in my ears.
Through bleary, tear-filled eyes I see him crouched before me, a look of resignation on his face, concern in his eyes.
He places a hand on my cheek, “Tell me how to help you. Show me how to be here for you.”
A sob shakes me. “You can’t.” It’s a whisper, but it’s louder than any statement I’ve ever made.
“I can’t,” I whimper. “I’m sorry.”
“Just go.”
He pulls in a breath, eyes filled with sorrow. “Is that what you want?” His eyes darken and he pulls his hand away as if I’d burned him.
“Yes,” I lie.
I lie because he doesn’t deserve this.
I lie because I’m a coward.
I lie because I love him.
He stands, absently rubbing the back of his neck as he shakes his head. “Is that your truth, Bailey?” He huffs. “Or is it someone else’s?”
He takes a step back.
My jaw clenches as I fist both hands, face flushed as I try to find my voice.
His eyes meet mine. Longing and pain flash in his eyes before his gaze leaves mine.
“And you expect me to what, just leave you out here, in the rain, in a fucking alley?” His voice trembles as he wipes the rain from his eyes. “Let me walk you back to the dorm, at least.” He reaches out his hand, waiting.
I stare at it, the same hand that held mine just hours before.
A bone-deep longing begs me to take it, but I’m reminded why I can’t, and I force my gaze to the ground.
“I’ll be fine. Just fucking go, Oliver.”
His shoulders fall and he lowers his head before spinning on his heels, boots silent beneath the pain.
My tears fall with the rain as I watch him walk away, a halo of light cast from the streetlamps hovers above him for about four tear falls and one breath—and then he’s gone.