Chapter 11 #2
“And that was it. You walked off the boat on the Fourth before that without saying goodbye, and then you blew off my text. I decided that night I would never give you that kind of access to me again.”
The truth hangs in the air. The tension is thick. We stare at each other like two adversaries pulled together with strings.
I wish I could run into his arms and nestle my face against his chest.
But I can’t.
And I don’t.
Coy forces a swallow. “The day of the Honors awards, I didn’t have my phone all day.
And when I got it back that night, it was so blown up that I didn’t even try to go through it.
Everyone that ever had my number sent me texts, calls, direct messages.
It was insane.” He grips the back of a chair.
“I got a sponsorship the next day from a different service provider anyway, so I just used the new number. I never sorted through that barrage of messages.”
I consider this. It might be true. It could be true. I remember Boone telling me about a new number shortly after that, but I didn’t save it. I was too hurt. And when Coy called me a couple of weeks later, it was from an unusual number.
But still …
His gaze pins me in place. “And for the record, I walked off that Fourth of July because you wanted me to.”
“What?”
“I tried to tell you I wanted …” He closes his eyes. “I held you that night and told you that I’d always be there. I told you to tell me if you needed me, and you rolled over and went to sleep.”
“Because I knew you would leave anyway.”
“You didn’t give me a chance.”
“Why would I, Coy? I’d given you everything I had to give, and it wasn’t enough to keep your interest.”
He shoves off the chair, sending it rattling against the table. He looks at me with fire in his eyes. “What’s that mean?”
My cheeks heat with a mixture of embarrassment and fury. I don’t want to do this, but I might as well get it over with.
What else do I have to lose?
“That means I gave you everything,” I say slowly. “My first kiss. My virginity,” I say, ignoring the shock on Coy’s face. “My heart on that boat and my vulnerability when I needed someone and dared to ask for help.”
He pulls his hands over his face.
Emboldened by my declaration and freed from the weight of the truth, my entire being feels lighter. I keep going because I’m too tired to care. I continue because it’ll be one war that I can end tonight and then move on from.
I suck in a breath as his eyes find mine again.
“I used to name all of my boy dolls after you,” I tell him. “I had a journal when I was eight, and I would practice writing Bellamy Mason in it every day, over and over.”
I close my eyes and let my anxiety settle.
“The older we got, the more I realized that you and I would never be a thing. That giving you my virginity wasn’t enough to keep your eyes on me. That I was just another girl—maybe less.”
“Bellamy, that’s not true. I had no idea …”
“Then you weren’t paying attention.” I shrug.
“And, yes, on the boat that Fourth of July, I did pull away because I saw the writing on the wall. Your phone was going off the entire night, and I knew I couldn’t compete with whatever Nashville had to offer you.
So, I took what I could and knew that would be the end of it. And that’s okay. I made that choice.”
And I think I’ve hated you for that choice ever since. Because it really wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity.
He forces a swallow. “I can’t say I would’ve stayed if that’s what you would’ve wanted. Actually, I know I would’ve gone anyway. But things could’ve been different.”
I shake my head. “No. They are the way they are because that’s how it’s meant to be. I’m just a silly girl who’s always been in …”
I catch myself a moment too late.
Words topple out of my mouth—a nonsensical string of phrases that only exist to deflect from the singular phrase I let slip far enough to out myself.
It’s one thing I should’ve kept tight to my chest.
Coy stalks around the table, his eyes dark and hooded. There’s a fire in them that I haven’t seen since the night on the boat when he took my hand and led me upstairs.
He knows where I was going with that, and my ramble afterward didn’t cover it.
I’m glued to the spot on the floor as he approaches me. My mouth goes dry.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I try to come up with a deflection, a way to save myself from whatever is about to happen. But before my brain decides to work, Coy is standing in front of me.
“What were you going to say?” he asks.
“It was nothing.”
“Say it,” he demands.
“It was nothing.”
He lifts my chin with the tip of his finger. The contact sends chills up my spine.
His eyes drill into mine, holding them hostage as he searches them for an answer to an unasked question.
“I will pick you up and throw you over my shoulder again,” he says, the corner of his lip twitching. “And I will throw you into the pool.”
“Oh, that’s scary.”
He grins, trailing a finger down the side of my face. “Tell me what you were going to say,” he whispers.
I weigh my options. I could continue to argue with Coy, but the damage is done. I’ll have to deal with the fallout anyway.
So, I suck in a deep, nervous breath and give him a version of what I was going to say.
“I’m just a silly girl who’s always had a thing for the boy next door,” I whisper back.
His grin falters before growing again. He cups both sides of my face with his palms.
I hold my breath, awaiting his reaction.
Coy knows that’s not what I was going to say. I can see it in the twinkle in his eye. But he seems to take pity on me and lets it slide.
“You wanna know something?” he asks.
“Probably not.”
He chuckles. “I’m just a crazy guy who’s always had a thing for the hot, beautiful, and sexy girl next door.”
“You have a neighbor like that?”
He tries not to laugh but fails miserably.
My cheeks heat as his words settle against my heart. I normally brush off sentiments like this from guys, figuring they’re just a line to get me in bed.
Usually, they are.
But I’ve known Coy Mason long enough to be able to determine when he’s full of shit. And when he’s telling the truth.
And this? This line that I never thought I’d hear come from his sweet, kissable lips?
He’s telling the truth.
Mountains of tension and stress float away. If it’s just for right now, that’s okay. It’s a relief to have things feel like they’re right where they should be.
I exhale, letting my body sag forward. Coy holds me steady.
“I’ve got you,” he says. “Okay? I’ve got you.”
There’s a gravity in his words, a double entendre that peppers my heart.
“No more bullshit,” he says earnestly. “No more assuming. No more miscommunication. Got it?”
I nod. “That works both ways. Because I told you about my dad. You just didn’t see it.”
“Of course. You’re right. That works both ways.” He takes a deep breath. “I know you have a lot going on, Bells. More than I realized, and that’s on me. But it’s on you that you didn’t tell me.”
“I can agree with that.”
He strokes my cheeks with his thumbs. “I want to be here for you. I want to be your friend. I want to … be lots of things, okay? I don’t … I don’t know …”
I raise a finger to his lips and press it against them. “I don’t know either. And we’re probably not going to figure it out right now. I mean, I still kind of hate you.” I wink at him. “So let’s just …”
“Start over?”
“Nah, not start over. Maybe we forgive and forget?” I bite my lip. “Well, maybe not forget everything. There are a few nights I’d like to remember.”
“You are the most confusing and infuriating girl I’ve ever met,” he says, narrowing his eyes playfully.
“Yeah, well, you’re the most frustrating and irritating man I know.”
He grins before leaning down until his mouth is a hairbreadth from mine, and his breath is hot against my lips.
I close my eyes and will his mouth to touch mine—if even for a moment.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, the words brushing against my skin. “If you want to object, now is the time. Otherwise, I’m taking it as consent, and I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
“Coy …”
His thumbs dig into my cheeks. “Yeah?”
I open my eyes as my heart threatens to burst out of my ribs. “Kiss me.”
And he does.