Chapter 27
ALEX
I’m happy and relaxed as I walk back to the art museum to meet Theo, who is sitting on a bench, doing something on his phone and sipping coffee. I slow down and take a second to study him as I walk towards him.
He seems different to me now.
Based on the way he took care of me when I was sick, I don’t think he’s trying to manipulate me anymore.
He’s still my delusional stalker, but he cares about me in his own weird, intense way, and what he feels for me is real to him.
He’s sweet and thoughtful, and the sex is fantastic, and he loves taking care of me.
A soft ache pulses through me as I realize that if things were different, he’d be a really good boyfriend, exactly the kind of boyfriend I would want.
Exactly the kind of boyfriend I do want.
That realization rings around like a bell in my head as he looks up at me and smiles warmly.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He stands up and slips his phone into his back pocket as he leans down to kiss me, handing me a warm coffee cup as he does.
“I got you ginger tea. I know you feel better, but I still thought it would be nice. How was the massage?” I lean into him a little, and his free arm wraps around my waist reflexively.
“It was great, thank you.”
“I’m glad. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” He looks down at me with a warm, hungry expression.
“There’s a nice hotel a few blocks away with a huge bathtub and good room service.” He shoots me a quick grin. “I thought it might be nice to connect a little.” I roll my eyes at him but don’t say anything, because it sounds amazing.
It feels incredible to be cared for like this.
That’s a problem.
***
As we check into the hotel, he wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses my temple absently, as if being affectionate towards me is natural for him, like he’s been doing it for years.
It’s impossible to ignore how much I want him, even though I shouldn’t.
It’s so new to feel cared for like this, and I like it so much that I’m willing to overlook the fact that I’m trapped, just for a little bit.
For the first time, I let myself sink into the fantasy he’s so invested in.
It’s overwhelming how easy it feels.
We’re barely in the elevator before I push him back into the wall, pressing onto my toes and kissing him deeply. He seems shocked for a moment before he grips my hips and pulls me in tightly, making a low, content sound in the back of his throat as he kisses me back.
It’s nice to pretend this is normal. It’s nice to completely ignore the fact that he’s stalking me, to flirt and kiss and undress, to let him softly kiss my cunt while I order us a bottle of champagne and room service, to drink and joke and make out in the bath, to act like he’s actually my boyfriend.
I let myself pretend all of it is normal as he sits back against the headboard and I crawl into his lap, gripping his shoulders as I lower myself onto him slowly, taking my time and teasing him.
His hands tighten on my ass, his moan low and appreciative, his eyes bouncing from my lips to my tits to where we’re joined and back again.
I have to lower myself the last inch or two carefully, tilting my hips forward and back until I find the most comfortable angle, moaning when he’s finally all the way in. His hazel eyes are wide as I start to ride him, his face torn between adoration and lust and something I don’t really recognize.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was hope.
I twine my arms around his neck, leaning into him, grinding slowly as his hands roam over my back and come forward to cup my breasts, his thumbs running over the peaks of my nipples.
His touch feels intoxicating, and an electric current hums through my body when he kisses me.
I close my eyes and melt into the feeling.
It’s never felt like this before.
“What hasn’t?” I look at him, slowing myself until I’m barely moving. Fuck, did I say that out loud? All of a sudden, I feel too naked, and the sex feels too intimate.
“Uhm, this. It feels…different.” His eyes widen, his pupils large in the low light, and he looks surprised as he searches my face and wraps his arms around me tightly. “Theo,” I say slowly, “why are you looking at me like that?”
“You feel it, don’t you?” Theo’s voice is an excited, low whisper, and his body is tense beneath me. I try to pull away from him, but his arms are like a vice around me, and he won’t let me move. “Oh, my god, you do. Alex, you’re here with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
He smiles at me tenderly, pulling me closer. “You’re finally letting me in.”
Oh, god, he can tell.
What the fuck am I doing? Why am I giving into this bullshit delusion of his?
I’m so fucking stupid if I think I actually want him, that he’s not just manipulating me successfully.
I can’t be desperate enough to have someone be nice to me that I’m willing to overlook the fact that he’s a violent fucking asshole who broke into my life and took it away.
That’s pathetic.
“No, I’m not,” I blurt out. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t like this. I don’t like you.” His expression shifts into deep hurt, and his eyes flick down to my lips as he grips me tighter.
“I know you don’t mean that.” Intense anger surges through me, and I need to get out of here.
I need to get away from his feelings, from my feelings.
I start pushing away from him, but his arms are locked around me.
“Sweetheart, please don’t push me away,” he says, his voice pained.
“I know you’re scared of being happy with me, but you don’t have to be. ”
Oh, fuck him, and fuck me for letting my guard down like this. I need an out, any kind of out. He shouldn’t get to make me feel like this.
Fuck it. I’m going to push.
“You really think that? The only thing I’m scared of is you,” I spit.
“You’re an insane, manipulative stalker, and you’re going to kill me.
” I watch anger and hurt flash across his face, and I push again.
“You think I want this? You think I want you? No one would want you! You’re fucking unlovable. ”
I know immediately that I’ve pushed hard enough when Theo freezes, his face going instantly blank.
There’s a tense moment of silence as the word hangs between us, and then I’m on my back before I even realize he’s moved.
He’s already off the bed, grabbing his clothes and throwing them on as he faces away from me.
I can hear his breathing, loud and shallow and fast, and I curl up into a ball and start to go numb.
I’d rather die than want him like this.
He starts pacing at the end of the bed, every muscle in his body so tense that he’s shaking.
“This is such fucking bullshit, Alexandria. You’re lying to yourself if you think you don’t want this, which isn’t surprising because all you fucking do is lie.
You can be such a shitty girlfriend sometimes, you know that?
I have to beg you to talk to me, you barely tell me anything when you do, and you’ve got all these big fucking issues that you just bottle up and take out on me whenever I get too close.
I fucking let you, because I want to take care of you, but you treat me like shit and shut down any time you let me in!
I have to work so fucking hard to get so fucking little from you, and it sucks.
” He stops pacing and looks up at the ceiling, making a loud, frustrated sound, shaking his head and scrubbing a hand over his eyes.
“I didn’t think this relationship would be so difficult, I really didn’t.
I’ve been doing everything I can to make this work, and you’ve been fighting me at every turn.
I don’t understand why you’re working so hard to try to push me away, but I'm fucking tired of it.” He grabs his keys off the dresser and finally looks at me, frustrated and hurt and on the edge of crying.
“Why can’t you make this easy for once and just let yourself be happy with me?
” He sighs and drops his keys, rubbing his hands up his face again and pushing them back through his hair.
“Fuck this,” he mutters as he moves towards me quickly, reaching out for me.
I flinch away from him and curl tighter into myself, and he freezes.
His face is shocked, then incredulous, then pained.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Alex? You think I’m going to hurt you?” He turns on his heel, grabbing his keys and his jacket. “I’m the only one getting hurt here,” he snaps out as he wrenches open the door and storms out.
I sit on the bed, frozen and confused and unsure of how to feel. I stay glued to the same spot for an hour, but he doesn’t come back. I have no idea what to make of what just happened, so I don’t think about it. I order more wine, pour myself a hot bath, and drink to numb myself.
I don’t sleep at all, but he never comes back. He’s not at the bus station in Portland the next morning, or at the bus station in Astoria, or at his house, or at my apartment.
I know he’ll show up. He constantly shows up, whether or not I want him to.
I don’t know if I want him to or not.