“We’re friends?” I whispered, staring at his lips.
“Friends who’ve kissed before.”
“We’re just starting new lives?” I tried again, knowing that was true. We were both broken, both trying to get healthy, both completely unhealthy at the moment.
“What if I want you in that new life?” he said, his lips a whisper from mine. “I need to know that Dougie knows you two are done, Meek. Tell me that he knows.”
I winced at his words, pushed myself farther into the mud, away from the only man that had ever made me feel completely safe. He’d wiggled his way through all the nonsense and found our weakness: Dougie. I hadn’t fully cut him off. I’d told him I needed time, and time was only proving to solidify what I was scared of.
We were done.
I couldn’t love a man who didn’t keep me safe or that put me in harm’s way, who inflicted harm upon me.
I closed my eyes and said the words I didn’t want to say. It was admitting defeat, admitting I couldn’t conquer something. I’d always believed that if you buffed something hard enough it would shine. If I studied hard enough, I would ace it; if I put in the work, I would accomplish it.
My relationship hadn’t worked that way. I’d done something wrong, and Dougie was the first to pinpoint what it was.
“I need to call him,” I murmured, eyes closed to hold back the tears.
Jay was working through what he wanted to say to me. I wished for a moment that he wouldn’t say anything, that he’d just give in to what I wanted.
I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted to feel what I only felt with him, to disappear under him and escape to the place where everything felt right, felt safe, felt secure. My hands were at home on him, and my knees lifted on their own so he was wedged between them.
He groaned and then pushed off the ground to kneel next to me. The whoosh of air between us was immediate, a cold reminder that I wanted him close to me always.
He reached a hand out to help me up. “Let’s keep figuring our shit out, Meek. No need to make more problems than we already have.”
I nodded but felt my stomach contort like someone had squeezed it and then twisted it, trying to drain me of all my feelings for Jay. It was painful, uncomfortable, and definitely concerning. He’d said the thing I kept repeating to myself: we didn’t need more conflict; we were a load of complicated problems already.
Jay needed to focus on his movie; he needed to stay sober. And I’d done a terrible job so far of making sure he had less stress so he could do just that.
Still, losing his body on mine, thinking of him drifting further from me or going on a date with another woman, had me thinking I’d do just about anything to have one more conflict in my life.
Which meant I had to suck it up and accept one of my first fails ever.
I’d failed with Dougie, and I knew that loss was going to be very, very difficult to swallow.