Ugly Love(28)

faint glow over her.
I can see her enough.
I can see her perfectly.
Her eyes lock with mine again. She steps closer to me. I
wonder if she’s ever shared a shower with anyone before, but
I don’t ask her. I take a step toward her this time, because she
seems scared. I don’t want her to be scared.
I’m scared.
I touch her shoulders and guide her so that she’s standing
under the water. I don’t press myself against her, even though I
need to. I keep distance between us.
I have to.
The only things that connect are our mouths. I kiss her softly,
barely touching her lips, but it hurts so bad. It hurts worse than
any other kiss we’ve shared. Kisses where our mouths collide.
Our teeth collide. Frantic kisses that are so rushed they’re
sloppy. Kisses that end with me biting her lip or her biting
mine.
None of those kisses hurt like this one does, and I can’t tell
why this one is hurting so much.
I have to pull back. I tell her to give me a minute, and she nods,
then rests her cheek against my chest. I lean back against the
wall and pull her with me while I keep my eyes closed tightly.
The words are once again attempting to break the barrier
I’ve built up around them. Every time I’m with her, they want
to come out, but I work and work to cement the wall that
surrounds them. She doesn’t need to hear them.
I don’t need to say them.
But they’re pounding on the walls. They always pound so hard
until all our kisses end up like this. Me needing a minute and
her giving me one. They need out now worse than ever before.
They need air. They’re demanding to be heard.
There’s only so much pounding I can take before the walls
collapse.
There are only so many times my lips can touch hers without
the words spilling over the walls, breaking through the cracks,
traveling up my chest until I’m holding her face, looking into
her eyes, allowing them to tear down all the barriers that stand
between us and the inevitable heartbreak.
The words come anyway.
“I can’t see anything,” I tell her.
I know she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. I don’t want
to elaborate, but the words come anyway. They’ve taken over.
“When you move to Michigan and I stay in San Fran? I don’t
see anything after that. I used to see whatever future I wanted,
but now I don’t see anything.”
I kiss the tear that’s running down her cheek.
“I can’t do this,” I tell her. “The only thing I want to see is
you, and if I can’t have that . . . nothing else is even worth it.
You make it better, Rachel. Everything.” I kiss her hard on the
mouth, and it doesn’t hurt at all this time, now that the words
are free. “I love you,” I tell her, freeing myself completely.
I kiss her again, not even giving her the chance to respond.
I don’t need to hear her say the words to me until she’s ready,
and I don’t want to hear her tell me that the way I feel is
wrong.
Her hands are on my back, tugging, pulling me closer. Her legs
are wrapping around mine like she’s trying to embed herself
inside me.
She already has.
It’s frantic again. Teeth-crashing, lip-biting, hurried, rushed,
panting, touching.
She’s moaning, and I can feel her trying to pull from my
mouth, but my hand is wrapped in her hair, and I’m covering
her mouth desperately, hoping she’ll never break for breath.
She makes me release her.
I drop my forehead to hers, gasping in an effort to keep my
emotions from spilling over the edge.
“Miles,” she says breathlessly. “Miles, I love you. I’m so scared.
I don’t want us to end.”
You love me, Rachel.
I pull back and look her in the eyes.
She’s crying.
I don’t want her to be scared. I tell her it’ll be okay. I tell her
we’ll wait until we graduate, then we’ll tell them. I tell her
they’ll have to be okay with it. Once we’re out of the house,
everything will be different. Everything will be good. They’ll
have to understand.
I tell her we’ve got this.
She nods feverishly.
“We’ve got this,” she responds back, agreeing with me.
I press my forehead to hers. “We’ve got this, Rachel,” I tell her.
“I can’t quit you now. No way.”
She takes my face between her palms, and she kisses me.
You fell in love with me, Rachel.
Her kiss removes a weight from my chest that is so heavy I feel
like I’m floating. I feel like she’s floating with me.
I turn her until her back is against the wall.
I bring her arms above her head and link my fingers through
hers, pressing her hands into the tile wall behind her.
We look into each other’s eyes . . . and we completely shatter
rule number two.



Chapter thirteen

TATE

“Thanks for making me go,” Miles says to Corbin. “Aside from another hand injury and finding out you thought I was gay, I had a good time.”
Corbin laughs and turns to unlock our door. “It’s not exactly my fault I assumed you were gay. You never talk about girls, and you’ve apparently left sex off your schedule for six years straight.”
Corbin gets the door open and walks inside, toward his bedroom. I stand in the doorway, facing Miles.
He’s looking straight at me. Invading me. “It’s on the agenda now,” he says with a smile.