Page 50 of Your Rule to Break

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Page 50 of Your Rule to Break

I pause for a few moments, making sure my thoughts are in order before continuing. “I googled a lot the last few days about OCD and intrusive thoughts because I want to understand it. I want to understand you. Even reading it hurt because I can’t imagine you going through this regularly.”

Emilie’s cheeks redden. “That isn’t part of me I try to share with too many people. I know it’s a lot to take in or take on. The whole thing is complicated, and I’ve worked hard at coming to terms with it, just myself, and telling people about it is a whole other thing.”

Basically, she feels like too much. This is something that takes up too much space.

“I can’t tell you how to feel ,but it’s not too much for me. You’re never too much for me. You always seem to be just enough.”

She stops, frozen, eyes searching for something specific.

“That’s one of the kindest things anyone has ever said to me.” Surprise is in the lines of her face.

"If you need more room, I’ll make it.” I look around my apartment. “There’s lots of room here. Take as much as you need.” I laugh at the heaviness.

Emilie scratches her arm, the red marks bright on her milky skin.

The weight is in the silence swirling around us, making it hard to breathe. It feels like my mind is stuck on one thing. The question I asked her and the one she never answered. The one I need an answer to.

She takes a breath but holds it in, like she wants to say something but doesn’t.

Fuck. Here goes nothing.

“Emilie. I’m going to ask you again. If this,” I point between the two of us, “is fake, then why were you so upset?”

She tilts her head, her lips pressed in a thin line, like she’ll do anything to keep her mouth closed. Her eyes, intense and almost completely green instead of hazel, go from mine to the floor, and back to me again.

“I’m not sure.” She says it like a question.

“Do you want me to guess?” I’m surprised how badly I want her to say yes.

“No. Not really,” Emilie answers much too fast, immediately covering her eyes after.

I sigh, leaning back. “Why not?” I don’t want to put my cards on the table, until I know this won’t ruin what we have. No matter what, I can’t lose her, even if we’re just friends.

She takes a deep breath, one where I watch her stretch into it. The seconds between us are like a snowball that’s being rolled down a hill, getting bigger and bigger—more substantial.

“Because I'm afraid you might be right.” She stands, and I feel like she’s looking for a place to pace in my apartment.

I walk over to her and she stops, her arms crossed and pushing her shoulders damn near her ears. When her eyes meet mine, it’s like the air leaves my lungs. She’s so fucking beautiful, no matter how unsure ofherself she is.

I take one step and being this close to her, without touching, is torture. I raise one hand and lightly touch under her chin, her skin hot under my fingers, and tip her face up to mine.

“This is against the rules,” she says, her voice quiet, as she looks around the room. “No touching if we’re not in public.” Her voice is breathy.

“It’s your rule to break, EJ.” I'm so close I can smell the vanilla from her lip balm. “I propose a new rule. Why don’t we do what feels right?”

I catch my breath after offering my suggestion—the rule to basically have no rules.

“What feels right for you?” Her voice is quiet enough that a whisper would most likely be louder.

I look at her eyes, golden and like they’re shining for me, and to her lips. It’s unlike me to hold back, not go for what I want. Holding back is killing me.

“Right now, it feels like if I don’t kiss you, I’ll never fucking forgive myself.” My voice comes out like I’m begging. I hate being in limbo. Do what you’re going to do and deal with consequences, or don’t—but make a decision. “But to be honest, that’s how it always feels when I’m with you.”

Her eyes sparkle at the confession. Me telling her how badly I want to kiss her. It’s almost like she didn’t think I felt what she does. I know why she’s so jealous, and I’d be the same, if not worse, but one of us has to say it.

“Then do it.” She bites her lip in the brief second between her giving me permission and my mouth landing on hers.

I kiss her the way I promised myself I would if I ever got the chance. Like she deserves. Like I’ve thought about her perfect fucking lips for months. I try to put all the pent-up feelings of wanting to do this for so long, this and so much fucking more,in this kiss.




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