Page 42 of Forget Me Not

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“No, he’s not,” I say in an attempt to ease some of the tension that’s boiling between these two. I put my hand on his bicep, trying to pull him back slowly, though he doesn’t budge, but I can still tell that just my touch has him less stressed. Bennett has at least five inches and at least thirty pounds of muscle on David, and I know it wouldn’t be pretty for David if this came to blows. Bennett is no stranger to putting guys in their place who think that they can talk or even look at me a certain way, and the scene used to make my knees weak and my panties damp.

Not the time, Olivia.

He seems to calm slightly when he turns to look at me and then down at where I’m holding him back and David shakes his head sadly witnessing this small interaction.

“You sure you know what you’re doing? You’re too sweet and forgiving to see what’s happening here. Do you really think he deserves a second chance?”

Bennett snaps his gaze away from me and towards David, the fire returning to his eyes. “You know what? You need to move on because I’m taking my wife back.”

I gasp, not expecting him to say that. “Excuse me?!” I squeal as he begins to pull me away when David’s voice perks up.

“She doesn’t even want you!”

I groan at David’s provoking, wishing that this whole altercation could be over when Bennett lets my arm go. “Maybe not,” he growls, “but I don’t need you in the fucking way while I try.”

The rest of breakfast and the walk home is silent, and as soon as we get back up to the apartment, I do my

best to break the tension. “Are you upset?”

“No,” he says without another glance towards me as he heads to his room.

“Wait wait!” I run after him and stand in front of him. “I don’t buy that. Are you mad at me?”

His eyes wash over me and the sadness behind them is evident. “I can never be mad at you. Besides, you’re the one that’s mad at me…”

“I’m not,” I whisper and his eyes widen. “I just mean, not because of what happened at the restaurant. David isn’t an issue…we’re over.”

He’s silent and I can tell he’s mulling over my words. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” His hand reaches up and pulls the clip from my hair that was holding a few pieces back.

“You know you’re still the only man I’ve ever let play with my hair.” I giggle, trying my best to break the tension, but he doesn’t smile. He just stares at me, his fingers running through my strands like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

“I won’t back down, Olivia.” He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. I shut my eyes as he gently pulls away and his lips rest on my forehead. “I might have given you up once but I’m not doing it again.” His arms move around me and I’m surrounded by his cologne that used to be permanently ingrained in my skin as he presses me against the wall. “I know I don’t deserve you. Your love. Your forgiveness…” He trails off. My heart begins to pound in my chest as the words sit on the tip of my tongue that maybe he doesn’t deserve it, but it won’t stop me from giving them to him. “But I’m still begging for it.”

I don’t speak. I just melt in his arms, fully prepared to let him take the lead wherever he wants to take us. “Tell me to stop.” He cups my face, forcing me to look up into his eyes. “Tell me to stop,” he repeats and I lick my lips in response, unsure of what it is I want next year, or next month or even tomorrow, but I do know I need his lips on mine now.

He’s breathing heavy and I can almost hear his heart beating in his chest.

“Clarke,” I whimper his nickname for the first time in six months aside from that one time at the hospital, but more importantly, for the first time since he woke up, hoping that it serves as the green light.

“Livi.” He grazes his nose against mine once, one of his moves that used to drive me crazy. His hands find my mouth, drawing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Did you wear this color for me?”

“Yes,” I whisper and I look up to find him biting his lip.

“Fuck.” He groans, his lips ghosting over mine gently. I let out a sigh, dying for a taste of his mouth but he doesn’t come any closer. We just stand there, breathing the same air, but not making any attempts to close the space between us. It’s like we’re stuck, neither one of us wanting to make the first move, though I’m surprised that Bennett isn’t going for it.

“I remember…” He takes a step back and shuts his eyes. “You came home from work one day. I was already there because I worked from home. You’d gotten your period at work…and you just couldn’t stop crying. Nothing I did made you feel better.” He opens his eyes and I know mine are glistening with tears threatening to fall. “I felt like such a failure.”

I remember that.

“You weren’t,” I tell him quickly, sliding my hands up his body to his face. “There was nothing you could have done.” I pause when I realize when that was. “That was only about a year ago…you remember that?” I smile and he shakes his head.

“It was like a flash.” He shakes his head. “Remembering that made me feel like my heart was exploding. Reliving that…seeing how much pain you were in.” A tear rolls down my cheek as I start to recall that memory. “God, I’m sorry.” I feel his lips at my temple and then dragging down my face, collecting the tear that fell before his lips find mine slowly. A kiss to the corner of my mouth, to the top lip and then to the bottom lip, as if he’s re-familiarizing himself with my mouth before he presses his lips to mine gently.

Fuck, I forgot how soft his lips are. I open my mouth wanting more, needing more, and he follows suit. Our tongues meet in the middle before he pushes mine back into my mouth and begins to kiss me with all the same passion that I was used to. An explosive, bruising kiss that tows the line between pleasure and pain.

But also, a line between the past and the present.

His beard scrapes against my cheeks and chin, all the while his teeth nip at my lips. His tongue is forceful, dominant as he kisses me in a way that used to make my knees weak. The kiss he’d plant on me just before he’d fuck me mercilessly. His hands go to my thighs, slowly moving under my skirt that flares out at my hips, allowing him to move underneath with ease. His fingers, warm and soft stroke my inner thighs and I swear I’d give anything for him to touch me. He breaks our kiss and my eyes flutter open to see my lipstick all over his mouth. “I can feel the heat between your thighs. You still get wet for me?”


Tags: Q.B. Tyler Romance