June, Reimagined (57)
“You thought wrong.” June looked at the wall of stories. It had grown by two. “You still haven’t found the right story?”
Eva shook her head. June pulled the most recent page from the wall. The prose was fresh and interesting. Even from the small amount she could read, June liked what it said. Eva was talented, and yet all of it was going to waste if she couldn’t finish a story.
“Why not this one?”
“Because it’s not right.”
“But why not? It’s beautiful so far.”
“Who cares, if there isn’t depth to back it up? Messy stories are more interesting than beautiful ones.”
“But doesn’t it drive you crazy? Couldn’t you just force yourself to finish one? So what if it’s not the right one, at least you’d have written a whole story.”
“No, I would have wasted my time.”
“And this isn’t wasted time?” June gestured to all the papers on the wall.
“There’s as much value in the word ‘no’ as there is in the word ‘yes.’ Maybe even more, because we, as women, so rarely say no.”
June handed the paper back to Eva. “I better go before Matt finds Angus and World War III breaks out.” She made her way to the door.
“So you made your choice?”
“I wasn’t aware I had a choice to make.”
“Darling,” Eva said kindly, “anytime a ‘yes’ needs to be spoken, a ‘no’ comes before it.”
June didn’t want that burden. Her only goal was to get through one more night with Matt and see him safely away. But back in her room, Matt stood by June’s bed, where her pictures were spread out in a collage. At the sound of June’s entrance, Matt turned, a storm already brewing in his eyes.
“What are you doing?” June went to the bed, suddenly protective of her collection. She gathered the images into a pile, but it was too late. Lennox was the subject of too many for Matt not to notice.
“June,” he said. “Enough is enough. Come home with me.”
“Is that why you’re here? To get me to leave with you?”
“Would that be so bad?”
How had June been so stupid? The gifts, his agreeable nature, even the flirting, it was all a part of a very calculated ruse. “Did my parents put you up to this?”
“No. They have no idea I’m here. But I’m sure they’d agree with me. It’s time to go home, June.”
“You don’t know what my parents want.”
“Maybe not, but I can guess. You abandoned them, just like you abandoned me.”
June was flabbergasted. “What?”
“You abandoned me, June.”
“So, this is all about you? That’s not fair.”
“No, June. What you’re doing isn’t fucking fair. You left me with no explanation. And I’m just supposed to let you go without a fight? Fuck that.”
June bit the inside of her cheek, stopping a waterfall of confessions. She didn’t want to argue with Matt, hadn’t wanted any of this to happen in the first place—a dead brother, or the lies, or her guilt. And right now, she didn’t want to see Matt Tierney. She had stuffed down her annoyance, stuffed down her frustration, played the part of a best friend, and Matt had been lying the entire time.
June felt the walls caving in on her. “I need to get out of here.”
Matt blocked her path to the door, taking her by the arms. “After everything we’ve been through, you’re willing to throw it all away? I thought we meant more to each other.” Matt’s eyes brewed with an intense, angry passion June had never seen before. She pulled away. She couldn’t handle the heat, didn’t want to know what that meant. But Matt refused to release her.
“Let me go.” But as she backed away, he only moved closer. “I mean it, Matt. Let me go!”
“I can’t, June. When you left, it practically killed me. I won’t do it again.”
A tiny voice in the back of her mind knew she could have fought more, pushed back, made Matt release her. He hadn’t been that forceful. But she didn’t. Maybe it was the intrigue, the years of wondering what it would be like, the small seeds of jealousy planted every time Matt spoke about another girl or shared intimate secrets about his sexual conquests, teasing June to speculate as to what it would feel like to kiss him. Maybe she was tired of holding herself together and wanted to give herself to someone else, let go of the burden, have him carry the pieces. Maybe she simply wanted to be wanted, devoured, instead of cast aside.
The way Matt Tierney kissed June was anything but trite. It wasn’t playful or hesitant or gentle. It was thirst and hunger in one. It was deep. It was a message in action. A telling. A stake thrust in the ground. Matt’s hands knotted around June’s shirt, fists clenched as if he were fighting an invisible enemy. June was lost in it—in the taste of his tongue, the feel of his lips, the press of his body into hers. He beckoned her closer with his hips. June clung to the violent bliss of being disconnected from the world, allowing herself to drown in it. She had wanted a way out of the emotions of the past few days, and it was happening. The room grew quiet. Tension melted from them both. Her mind went delightfully blank, and her body took over, reacting instinctually.