Page 80 of Into the Dark
Cold, icy terror screeches down my spine. “What do you mean?” My voice sounds small and afraid.
“I assume fixing it means you want me to stop being angry about it? But, see, I don’t know how to do that. Every time I think about you with him I want to hurt someone. And since I don’t know where the fuck he is…” His jaw clenches tightly. “And since I can’t fucking stop thinking about it, about you trying to forget about me by being with him, I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do about it. How do I fix that, Alex?” He’s asking me. Imploring me.
Very aware of the hammering in my chest and the panic rising from below, I move toward him, into the space between his legs. Maybe if I’m physically close to him then the rest will follow. If he doesn’t know how to fix it then I need to figure it out, and fast. There’s no other option. I know now that there’s no point in trying to enforce the technicality we weren’t together. He clearly doesn’t care about that. I need to try something else. Something more important. Something I should have said last night.
“Jake, I know you were hurting too, and if you’d drowned your misery in another woman I’d be angry too. Heartbroken and angry.”
His eyes narrow. “So that’s what you did? You drowned in him?”
Jesus, why can’t I say the right thing?
“No.” I shake my head. “No, I didn’t drown in him. I was just…sad and a little drunk, and he was there.” I take hold of his hands, which are still wrapped tightly around the glass. God, I just want them on me, or in me, touching me somewhere. I never want anyone else but him to touch me for as long as I live. I look down at our hands and how perfect they look inside one another. I love his hands. “I didn’t want him, not really,” I continue, my voice trembling slightly. “I wanted to want him, but that’s because I was miserable and sad and I missed you so bloody much. It was you who I wanted, Jake. I didn’t know how I was going to reconcile it with who you were and what I knew, but I knew I didn’t want anyone else.”
His eyes are laser-focused on me, watching me intently.
“Maybe I should have told you about him, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But it wasn’t to keep it from you or lie to you—it’s just there’s been so much going on and I forgot about his entire existence until he called.” I think about the baby then, and for the tiniest fraction of a second I think about telling him, right now, in this instant. But then the notion is gone as fast as it arrived. It’s not the right time. In fact, right now is maybe the worst possible time to tell him I’m having his child. After what he said to my parents last night about it being so far down the line for us, I’m not sure when the right time will be, but I know it isn’t here in this room under this smothering, terrifying mass. It needs to be soon though. I don’t think we can recover from any more hidden things.
As I wait for him to respond, I notice the crowd below for the first time, a low, distant ebb, and though it’s a little distracting, I’m glad of its company because it fills the otherwise heavy space between us. I’m about to prompt him when he moves, placing the glass behind him next to the bottle before turning back and taking both my hands in his. My heart soars at the increased contact, a fluttering sensation moving upward into my throat.
“This is all new for me, Alex, you know.” His voice is soft and uncertain, vulnerability seeping through the rough cracks.
“What is?”
He squeezes my hands tighter, stroking his thumb back and forth over my ring finger. “All this stuff. Feeling like this, being with someone like this. Like you. That’s what I meant when I said I don’t know how to fix it.” His head comes up and his eyes meet mine again. They look so blue and deep, and I don’t ever want to look away from them again. “I’ve never cared about anyone or anything enough to want to fix anything. I’ve never been here before.” He lets one of my hands go and brushes his knuckles softly over my cheek before moving to hold my face. My eyes close, and I lean my head into his palm. When he speaks again his voice is quiet and soft. “I know how this will sound, yeah, but it is what it is. I’ve always felt like you belong to me, like you were meant for me. Right from the start I felt that—from that night you fixed me, I thought of you as mine.” He smiles a little. “I meant what I told you that day, how I felt as if I’d been waiting for you my whole life. I just wish…” His voice trails off, and I hold my breath, half-terrified of what he might say next. “I just wish I’d been a different person, you know. Or that my life wasn’t such a fucking mess when you finally came along. I wish I was a different kind of person.”
“Jake, I’ve told you, I love you. We’re together now. I am yours, and you’re mine, and noth—”
He puts his hand up to quiet me and widens his eyes, an urgency in them now. “I need to know something—the truth, Alex,” he warns. “When you were with him, when we were apart, did you think that maybe it was for the best? That it was better. That it would have been better for you if you’d never fucking met me? Do you ever think about that? About how much better off you’d be?”
I can’t stop the frown from settling over my face. He can’t be serious. How the hell can he ask me that? Now. After everything. How can he still think he isn’t what I need or want? What the hell do I need to do to prove I belong with him?
“How can you ask me that?” I whisper.
He looks around him, an awful sadness in his eyes I’ve only seen once before. “Baby, you’re better than this…than me.”
“I’m not listening to that, Jake. Stop it. Now. We’re not doing that again.” I push my body into him, meeting his eyes with a defiant stare. “You want the truth? Here it is: No. I didn’t think that. And I have never thought that. Not once has it ever entered my mind that I’d have been happier without you. Not for a moment. Not even when my heart was in a million bloody pieces. Even then, I wanted you and I loved you. Because I knew you were the only one who could fix the way I felt. That feeling you have about me belonging to you? It’s because it’s true. I do belong to you, and even when we were apart I belonged to you. Like you belong to me. I love you. That’s our truth, Jake.”
He stares at me for what seems like hours, his eyes heavy with emotion. So many moments pass where nothing happens but everything needs to happen, and I honestly have no clue what’s going through his mind or if my words have, like most other times, done nothing but bounce off of that impenetrable outer shell of his.
Then he moves, fast, the suddenness of it taking my breath away. His other hand comes up to hold my head as his mouth crushes down onto mine, and his tongue delves deep into my mouth. The first thing I taste is the warm, delicious spice of the bourbon on his tongue—definitely the best bourbon I’ve ever tasted—and he moans loudly against me, sucking, biting, and licking at my mouth hungrily.
I can’t breathe. The kiss is faintly reminiscent of the first time he kissed me here in this office, but it has the weight of our history behind it now—of love and need and loss. In order to stay upright I stagger backward, stopping only when the surface of the large window meets my back. As the chill of the glass hits the backs of my thighs I throw my arms around him and breathe him in.
His deep, masculine scent hits my nose and throat and lungs all at once before coiling deliciously in the pit of my stomach and around the tops of my thighs. Tightening. Trembling. He devours my mouth, his tongue and lips unforgiving as those beautiful moans I love so much escape from the back of his throat. He wraps a hand around my butt and hoists me up off the floor, lifting my leg and sliding his hand up my inner thigh and under my dress, cupping me between my legs, rubbing me harshly over the damp material. With a groan he pulls my panties aside roughly and slides two warm fingers deep inside me so I gasp with pleasure. I bite down hard on his lip, which partially stifles my moans, but not his.
“Alex… Fucking hell, I want you so much…” he breathes against my mouth.
I moan loud as he kisses his way down my chin and licks my throat and around to my neck as his fingers move deep inside me. God, it’s been too long. A day apart from him is too long now. Far, far too long.
My body feels the same. Greedy and starved it grabs onto him, hands, thighs, and insides all trying to draw him further into me. As he spreads me open and fucks me with his fingers my climax starts to build faster than I expect, and I move my hips wantonly against his hand and bury my head deep in his neck. The cords of muscle under his skin here feel strong and vital, and they taste salty against my tongue.
“I need you…” I whimper against the heat of his neck.
Drawing his mouth away from my collarbone, he pulls his head up and looks deep into my eyes, kissing me roughly on the mouth, his eyes wide open as he does. Possessive. Fierce. Intense.
That’s when it hits me. I need to show him how far I’m willing to go to prove I do belong to him.
And right then, I know exactly how to do it.