But I shouldn’t.
The thought slips into my mind, the first sensible thought I’ve had since he touched me.
I tear my mouth away from his with a desperate moan, pushing as far back from him as the small space allows. I’m breathing heavily and so is he. His eyes are burning hot with arousal, his pupils dilated, and his body so tense, I can almost feel the effort it’s taking for him to control himself.
“You should leave,” I manage. My voice is hoarse, and my hands are shaking. I clench my fingers tightly, trying not to think about the fact that just a few seconds ago, they were buried in his hair. “Please leave.”
“Why?” He sounds as confused as I feel. “Rachel, you want this.”
I shake my head, my trembling body making the gesture a blatant lie. Every single inch of me is pulsing with unfulfilled desire. I want him to kiss me again. I want him to leave me alone so I can get over him. I don’t know what I want.
“Rachel.” Landon’s voice is firm and patient, urging me to listen. I shake my head stubbornly, but he doesn’t stop. “I want you,” he says insistently, “and I know you want me. I’m not going to walk away from this.”
I want you.
The words send a tremor down my spine, and it takes all my willpower to ignore the feelings they invoke in me. But we’ve been here before, and I already know how it ends. Me, back in his bed, wondering how long it will last and worried that it won’t.
When I don’t say anything, he sighs. “Just tell me what you want from me, Rachel.”
I want you to love me! The words hover at the tip of my tongue, but I don’t say them. Instead, I shake my head. “You keep saying you want me, Landon. For what exactly? Just sex? Indefinitely?”
“This means a lot more than sex and you know it.” He touches a finger to my cheek and I start to tremble again. “As long as we both want each other this much, why does it have to end?”
“I don’t want you,” I tell him stubbornly.
“I already said I won’t go anywhere until you stop lying to me.” He pushes back from the door and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Rachel, this thing we have...”
I inhale sharply. “Landon… I don’t want a ‘thing.’ I don’t.”
He considers me for a long moment. “So you want something more serious? Some sort of commitment? A relationship?” His eyes flutter closed, then open again. “Rachel, that’s fine. We can
have that if it’s what you want, but it’s crazy to keep thinking of excuses why we shouldn’t be together.”
I want to hope, but how different is a ‘relationship’ from what we’d already had. There was still no guarantee that he’d ever allow himself to love me. “A relationship?” I ask softly, folding my arms across my chest. “And that’s all?”
He looks at me, brows raised. “What else is there?”
Love. Why can’t I say the word? Instead, I hold his gaze. “You’re willing to let me be a small part of your life, to go out with you once in a while and be seen with you. That’s what you call a relationship, isn’t it? And when you’ve had enough of the sex, which is what this is really all about. That will be the end, wouldn’t it?
He throws up his hands. “God! I don’t understand you. What the fuck do you want?”
Love. At least a chance at it.
But his thoughts can’t even go there. That’s how alien the idea of love is to him.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper. I want to cry. This whole thing with him is so heartbreaking. “I can’t… Just go away, Landon. Just leave me alone.”
He looks like he’s going to say something else, but then he turns and stalks down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I watch him until he disappears, my heart feeling raw, then I take a deep breath, unlock the door and walk into the apartment.
WHEN I close the door behind me, I’m still trembling. Laurie is lying on the couch, her hair piled atop her head, glasses on. She has earbuds stuck in her ear, and her face is deep in one of her gigantic law books. She sees me and rises to a sitting position, taking off her glasses and earbuds.
“So, how was the date with the Jacksshole?” She does a small grimace as she says her version of Jack’s name. Obviously, she’s still mad at me for ‘sabotaging’ my relationship with Landon.
“Whatever, Laurie,” I say tiredly. “I’m going to bed.”
She springs up from the couch, looking apologetic. “Rach... I’m sorry about the things I said yesterday.” She pauses. “You came in crying, obviously distressed. I should have been supportive, instead of blaming you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” I reply, not ready to be mollified.