Touch (Denazen #1)(53)

“I told you, the others wanted me to call things off with you. When I didn’t, they were annoyed, but oh well. They got over it. As time went on, though, they started talking about using you for more than information. They wanted to use you to get at your father. I didn’t want you involved in anything to do with Denazen. I told them that.”

“You’re trying to say you broke my heart for my own good?”

“It was the only thing I could think of to wipe you out of my life. I knew you’d never forgive me.” He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “It killed me—the look on your face. The pain in your eyes. I did what I had to do to keep you out of it. If I’d had any idea you were a Six…”

“You’re lying,” I said, even though deep down in the pit of my stomach, I kind of believed him. Our relationship had been intense—or maybe it had only seemed that way to me because he’d been my first love—but I didn’t want to believe it had all been a lie. If this was true, it didn’t make up for things, but it gave me some small peace of mind at least.

He closed the distance between us and took my face between his hands. “I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry.

The last of my resolve crumbled. All the anger drained away, leaving the gaping, empty wound he’d left behind. I’d waited so long to hear the words. I stretched on my toes, crushing my lips to his. He responded, equally eager. The way he nipped at my top lip, his rough stubble scratching against my cheek and chin—all the familiar sensations my mind associated with him—all exploding from the locked box I’d kept them hidden in for so long.

He pulled away long enough to drag the shirt over his head, before backing us up to the bed. We tumbled to the mattress, a tangle of limbs and greedy, clutching hands. “I missed you,” he mumbled into my mouth. Fingers tugged at the edge of my shirt, inching it upwards.

The kiss was euphoric—a haze of buzz-worthy bliss mingled with fond memories that brought a flush to my cheeks and lit a fire in my chest. This…this was familiar. This was…

Wrong.

He managed to tug my shirt over my shoulders as I pushed him away. The shock of the cool air against my skin was enough to make me lose my train of thought and pull back. Distance. I needed distance.

“Stop,” I panted, scooting back across the bed.

Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. After a few minutes, his breathing slowed—as did mine—and he opened his eyes, watching me. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this,” I said. “Not now. Not with you.”

“Not with—”

“Kale,” I said, remembering the night he’d been recaptured—and the night before. How his touch—so gentle, yet somehow so primal—had burned him into my heart, mind, and soul.

The day Alex broke my heart, I thought he’d broken me, too. I didn’t date after that. Not really. Nothing serious and nothing exclusive. I saw who I wanted, when I wanted, with no commitment. I hadn’t slept around, but I’d sure as hell fooled around. A lot. Not once had I ever felt guilty. There was no reason to. No one had ever made me think twice about the choices I’d made. Monogamy wasn’t for me. Not anymore. Not until Kale.

Alex jumped up, fuming. “Are you serious? You’re telling me you’re with him?”

“I’m not with him,” I said, reaching for my shirt. Or was I? I pulled it over my head, tugging it into place, and stood. “It’s complicated.”

“Oh? How so? I still love you.” He reached for my arm. “I know you still have feelings for me.”

“Maybe I do,” I admitted, ducking out of his reach. Part of me screamed that this is what I’d wanted for so long—him—but another part of me laughed. He deserved this. To be hurt. By me. Fair turn and all. I’d dreamed about giving it back to him. The slap of rejection. Now that I was in the position to get what I wanted, I wasn’t into it. Hurting him like that didn’t hold the appeal it used to. “But that doesn’t change much.”

He pulled on his own shirt and hissed, “Of course it does!”

I shook my head. “No. No, it doesn’t. You messed up. It doesn’t matter what your reasons were, you killed us. You could have told me the truth. You made the choice not to. You picked your path and now you have to live with it.” Tears filled my eyes, threatening to overflow. “I do still feel something for you. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away and I’m sorry for that, but I also feel something for Kale. Something strong. I don’t know what it is yet, but I have to find out.”

He looked like he wanted to argue but kept quiet. “I should go. It’d probably be catastrophic if your father found me here.”

I nodded. “Probably.”

He raised his hand and pointed at my desk. A pen flew into the air, hovering for a moment, before diving at the pad of paper sitting on my nightstand. After several seconds of scribbling, the pen fell lifeless to the floor. “That’s my cell number. Call me in the morning and we’ll meet up to talk about the Denazen thing. I meant it. I want to help get your mother”—he swallowed and made a bitter face—“and Kale out of there.”

I nodded and followed him to the window. Swinging his legs over the edge, he eased himself down to the branch closest to the house. After dropping to the ground, he paused to look back at me. “I’m not gonna let this go, Dez. I know I screwed up, but I’m gonna fix it. Kale or no Kale, you belong with me.”