Thrown Down (Made in Jersey #2)(35)

When they walked into his room, he watched her take a turn around the bed, the chair he’d been using as a clotheshorse. Nothing had changed since they’d stayed there. Same color scheme, furniture, and background noise. Everything had remained the same, apart from him and River. A memory of her balled up on the bed, tears staining her cheeks, moved across his consciousness, and he had to look away, setting the to-go containers on the round, wobbly table opposite the bed.

“Maybe we should have taken the booze with us, too,” Vaughn muttered, chancing a glance at River.

She raised an eyebrow, and with a little flourish, she pulled the corked bottle of wine out of her purse. “Would have been a shame to let it go to waste.”

Love pummeled him with such force, honesty escaped as though an emergency valve had been turned. When he spoke, his words were labored. “I lied.”

Her smile slipped, the bottle of wine dropping to her side. “Sorry?”

God, he thought the words would feel like rose bushes being ripped out through his throat, but having made the initial admission, the rest flowed out like water that had been dammed too long—until he saw the dawning recognition on River’s face, saw her lower herself to the bed in slow motion. “I lied that night, Riv,” he said hoarsely. “You think I could’ve stopped loving you so easily?”

She didn’t answer. Didn’t move.

“I was dying for you,” he near-shouted, falling into the single dining chair. “Don’t you see, though? That was the problem. It was always the problem. The day we met, I started sucking all the possibilities out of you. College. A job and a life outside of this town.” She was facing away from him now. There. He’d lost her for good, hadn’t he? The lie that kept on giving. “You couldn’t just move on while I was away. Or hell, see sense while I was still f*cking here. You just kept running to me, and I couldn’t let myself catch you again. I had no choice that night, River. Before I left, I was bad for you. When I came back…” Vaughn shook his head. “I was flying shrapnel. I knew even less how to be the man you deserved.”

He closed his eyes and remembered the night in the Third Shift when River’s father had forced him to see sense. Forced him to admit he was killing River in his own inexcusable way. River didn’t need to know what had pushed him into the lie, though. It would only hurt her more—possibly dent her relationship with her father—and he was done causing her pain.

“So you…” River started quietly, face still turned away. “You did love me.”

Humorless laughter rattled in his chest. “You couldn’t feel it? I damn near smothered you on that bed. Jesus, I couldn’t let your mouth go long enough to give you a decent breath.” Vaughn shoved to his feet and paced to the door. “Walking out of here was like having my goddamn limbs torn off.”

When he turned around, River was standing, too, watching him across the room through luminous blue eyes. I still love you, Vaughn wanted to shout. I’d murder, sacrifice, and starve for you. But it would be too soon when he’d just ripped open the old wound.

“So you made that decision for both of us?” River murmured, rounding the bed and coming toward him. God, if she tried to get past him to the door, Vaughn couldn’t promise he wouldn’t block her, get on his knees, and beg her to stay. She didn’t attempt to exit, however, stopping instead when they were toe-to-toe. “You just decided I wouldn’t try to compromise or make our relationship all right for both of us? I’d grown up while you were gone. And we loved each other enough to make it work.”

Not enough to give you a real home. A safe, secure one. With a deed attached.

“There was no compromise. I couldn’t support you then—I didn’t know how.” He raked stiff fingers through his hair. “I made the decision I thought was best for you. You were the only thing that ever mattered.”

River opened her mouth then closed it, falling back a step in a way that made Vaughn frown. “God, I-I really want to hate you for making that decision for us, but I…”

He stepped forward, countering River’s backward progress. “You what, doll?”

“I made a decision for us, too. That night. Or maybe it wasn’t a decision at all, because I barely remember anything past being so scared. I didn’t know how to reach you.” Her voice hitched on the last word, one hand coming to rest on her throat. “Maybe I hadn’t grown up while you were gone. Not as much as I thought. I was a grown woman, and I didn’t even consider the consequences…of sleeping together without…” She blew a breath up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t on the pill.”

Gravity pushed down on Vaughn’s shoulders, even as his insides seemed to elevate, straight up into his neck. “You…” He cleared the rust from his voice. “You weren’t on the pill.”

River spoke in a whisper. “No.” She fell back a few more steps toward the bed, and Vaughn stalked her, lifting his hands to clamp them on either side of her face. “It was wrong. Lying about something so damn important. I know it. But I never would have tried to trap you. It’s why I didn’t try to find you…I refused to even let myself look. It’s why I’ve given you as many outs as I could since you came back.”

Vaughn erupted forward, branding River’s mouth in a kiss that lacked all control. In an achingly familiar move, they fell back on the bed, River arching beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist with a whimper. His hands couldn’t get satisfaction, roaming down her thighs, squeezing her knees, racing up into her hair. She slapped at his shoulders, writhing beneath him to signal she needed to breathe, and he barely managed to release her mouth. “Our first time without a condom.” His words emerged like shards of glass tearing through muslin. “Christ, I can still remember your hands on my ass, yanking me closer when I came, legs open so wide for it. Oh God, Riv—”