Finding It (Losing It, #3)(52)

I pressed my lips harder against his, curling my hands around the back of his neck. And for just a second, he pulled me in closer. My chest smashed against his. My feet left the ground, dangling centimeters above the stone path. My head was spinning with want.

Then just as suddenly, he released me. My feet hit the ground. My head stopped spinning. But I felt dizzier than ever.

He said, “Kelsey, I can’t.”

“You can’t? It seems to me like you just won’t.”

“You don’t understand.”

I stepped out of his arms, and backed away to the other side of the path.

“You’re right. I don’t understand. I don’t understand what about this is not okay.” People were starting to stare, but I didn’t care. “I don’t understand how we can spend every waking moment together, how you can touch me, how we can sleep in the same bed, sleep in each other’s arms, but this? This is somehow not okay? No, I don’t understand that. I don’t understand how you can kiss me the way you kissed me and feel the way I know you feel, and keep pushing me away. But I’m done trying to figure it out.”

I spun and ran through the tunnel, passing the lover’s seat that moments ago had seemed so poignant and perfect a representation of what I wanted and where I thought Jackson and I were heading. Maybe they didn’t choose locks because love is permanent. Maybe they chose locks because emotions bind us into place. They weigh us down. They pull your heart into a thousand different directions until the only option left is for it to break.

That chair was stone, stuck forever in that chaste kiss. It was hard, cold, and lifeless. A lot like Hunt could be at times.

So, I ran, my sandals slapping against the stone path. The tunnel was dark with rectangles of light pouring in through the window gaps. I got far enough away that I couldn’t feel Hunt’s gaze on my back or the gravity that pulled us together. Then, I slowed. My breath rasped like the sound of fabric tearing, threads ripping apart.

And then because the universe has impeccable timing (and because it hates me), a droplet of rain splashed against my forehead. Followed by a second and a third. Then the sky opened, and dumped an ocean on my head.

I yelled, “Fuck! Of course.” I looked up at the sky, raindrops pummeling my face and yelled, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The hard path jarred my ankles as I ran, but I kept running, more concerned with finding shelter. I could have turned back and headed for the tunnel, but then I’d have to face Hunt again.

No, thank you. Not after I literally ran away from him. Not after he pushed me away at every turn.

The stones turned slick under the downpour of rain, and my foot slid. I tried to catch my balance, but there was nothing to hold on to. I teetered backward and prepared myself for impact.

But my back didn’t hit rock, well, not the rock path anyway. A familiar pair of arms circled me. I saw Hunt’s soaked tennis shoes first, but I would have known it was him regardless. Even soaking wet and pelted with rain, I felt a shock of warmth at his touch.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I jerked out of his arms. “I’m fine.”

I continued down the path, walking as fast as I could on the uneven, slippery stones.

“Kelsey, just wait.”

I yelled back. “I’m tired of waiting, Jackson. I think I’m done.”

I followed the path down into the village, and the streets were grimy with mud. I could feel tiny drops flicking up and landing on my calves and thighs.

I reached the home where we were staying, and ran up the rickety stairs that led to the apartment upstairs we’d rented. I threw open the door, and slammed it closed behind me.

I knew it was childish, and I couldn’t keep him out there in the rain, but it felt good all the same.

I tore off my sandals, splattering mud and water on the floor and my clothes. Then, maybe because I was crazy or because I was a mile past giving a shit, I tugged my soaking shirt over my head. It hit the ground with a slap at the same time that the apartment door blew open.

I heard it slam back against the wall once, then again, knocked by the wind. I turned and found Hunt frozen in the doorway.

His eyes went to the bare skin of my stomach, slick with rainwater and pebbled with goose bumps.

Spitefully, I said, “You’re welcome to stay outside. You know, if this is another thing you can’t handle.”

He stayed locked in the doorway, his hands gripping the jamb.

I unbuttoned my shorts and slid them over my hips, letting them fall to the ground.

I said, “Actually, I dare you to come inside. I still have one dare left from Heidelberg. So, I dare you to come inside and kiss me.”

His body leaned into the room, but his grip stayed tight on the entryway, and his feet firmly planted on the porch. His face screwed up like he was in pain, but he dropped his head and looked away.

I scoffed. “That’s what I thought.”

I spun and walked toward the shower in the corner of the room. It wasn’t even a room by itself, just a raised tile platform circled by a shower curtain. I turned the knob, and heard the pipes whistle at the same time the door slammed closed.

I’d thought maybe he’d left, but then I heard his gruff voice behind me say, “Fuck it,” and his hands seized my waist and pulled me back against his chest.

His wet clothing met my bare skin, and I shivered from the cold. His mouth found my neck, and those shivers became tremors. He nipped the juncture of my neck and shoulder, and I stumbled forward into the spray of the shower.