ChapterNineteen
Wynter
“Croix?I’m starting to think you have a problem with lurking outside of bathrooms…”
He smirks at me. “Maybe it’s you. Maybe you should stop giving me a reason to lurk outside the women's room, Chief.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not my name and you know it.”
“It makes you irritated that I call you Chief? Does it make you jealous that I came with a date tonight?”
“Why in the hell would I be jealous? We’ve already established multiple times that I don’t like you,” I snap at him.
Running his hands through his hair, I can feel the frustration coming off him in sheets. “Stop lying to yourself, Wynter. You're not the only one you’re hurting with the lies.” Anger and fear flash across his face, and it’s something I’m all too familiar with. I feel sick. It’s true. I’m hurting him as much as I’m hurting myself every time the lie slips from my lips.
He pushes away from the wall, stepping closer to me. “Come with me.” He leads me away from the bathroom toward the Egyptian Art exhibit, pulling me into a gallery on the way. This gallery is only decorated in colored paintings, not fancy Gala garb.
“Tell me you feel it too. Tell me that my kiss isn’t addicting, that each touch isn’t simply another injection of lust under your skin. That each time we’re in the same room your heart doesn’t race like mine does. Or look me in the face, right now, and tell me you feel absolutely nothing.” He runs his fingers up my arm, across my neck, along the line of my jaw, and over my bottom lip.
“I…” I can’t speak. Thinking about kissing him is short-circuiting all my plans to be honest. His kisses are like drinking whiskey, smooth and slow with a sharp kick at the end.
“Say it, Wynter.” He holds my jaw in his grip so I can’t look away. Gently, but enough to keep me from looking away.
I shake my head, fear coating my throat causing a stilt in my breathing.
“Wyn… I need you. I can’t keep doing this with you.”
I still can’t seem to tell you I need you, more than I even know. That I’m tired of being alone. That I want to give you a shot, but I’m scared of what that means.The words dangle on the tip of my tongue, waiting to end all the misery between us.
A tear slips from my cheek, and he kisses it away. His lips find mine, and I can’t help letting them linger longer than they should for friends. I don’t even balk or pull away when his kiss turns punishing, demanding more from me than what I’ve given. I’m melting for him, the rest of the world slipping away as the ice shatters from my heart.
“Did you like her touching me tonight?” he whispers.
“No,” I whisper back.
“No?”
I shake my head. “I hated it.”
“Why did you hate it?”
I remain tight-lipped, afraid of what I might say that he could use against me. Or maybe it’s the opportunity to steal another kiss from my lips without permission.
“Tell me…”
He leans in, whispering in my ear, “Do you want me to go? I’ll go find Kalli. I’ll take her home with me. She’ll let me worship her body all night long. I bet she’ll enjoy it.”
“Fuck, no,” I clip.
“Give me a reason not to, Wyn. Tell me something. Give me anything.” He pulls away and turns to leave, not waiting for my answer.
“Goodbye, Wyn.” Gets thrown carelessly over his shoulder as he steps away.
“Wait!” I almost yell.