Can't Let Go (26 page)

The screen door closes, and I peer up to Sam. “Do you mind if I sit down?” she asks, and I scoot over, silently permitting her. “Can we talk?”

Unconsciously, my legs pull up against myself. It’s been a defense mechanism for so long. As if I can protect my body from the hurtful things people spout.

She stares out to the streets I was admiring moments ago. “This is awkward,” she starts. “I didn’t know who you were … I never would have.”

I place my hand on her arm. “Sam, I’m not with Dex,” I inform her. “We’re only friends.”

“I think you’re wrong, Chrissy. I’ve been a part of Dex’s life for a few months, and he’s never mentioned you.” She stabs me right in the heart. Noticing my despair, she quickly tries to change her words. “But,” she bends down to meet my eyes, “he’s never, ever looked at me the same way he does you. When your eyes meet, whether it’s two feet or twenty yards, no one else is around.”

Every vibe I’ve gotten this past week says she’s right. Something shifted between Dex and me, and I’m not sure how long I can claim ignorance to it. “Thank you, Sam.” I decide on not doubting her words but thanking her for them instead.

“I’m not sure this will make it better or worse but you deserve to know. Dex and I have only ever been—sexual.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

“I mean … there’s no feelings there.” She stands up, and a relief she’s leaving me alone is all I feel in the moment.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I tell her.

“You’re welcome.” I wait to hear her shut the screen door before I relax my legs, stretching them out.

Contemplating my own life decisions in my head, I stay out there for close to a half hour. Not sure what Dex prefers me to do, but the last thing I want is to throw myself at him. Anger starts slowly wrapping around me like layers of Saran Wrap. Anger that he watches my every move, his eyes finding me from across the room in every instance. The intense stares and pinning glances packed with so many emotions you’d need a wheel barrel to haul them away. If he wants me, why won’t he confess? Or why would he screw Sam last night? I need to embrace this time in my life. Save the money, get my own place, and secure myself a future.

When the screen opens again, I deny the drive to turn around and scream at whoever it is. Then the large pair of sandals rest on the ground to my right, and I can’t help but look up, finding my favorite set of blue eyes.

“We’re leaving,” he says, venturing down the sidewalk. Not about to follow his commands, he peeks over his shoulder. “I said
we
.” I stay seated. “Please,” he relents, and I stand up. “Stubborn,” he mumbles, though the smirk he’s hiding is clear.

A half hour and a stop at a drive-thru later, I have an idea of where he’s taking me. The signs read
closed at dusk
on the metal gates as his truck turns into the drive. Parking in the angled spots, I wait for him to open my door this time, and he links his hand with mine, while carrying the white and red bag that contains my favorite food.

Finding our usual spot on the rocks, the glowing orange sun is quickly fading from the sky, hiding behind the tree line. He organizes the food just like six years prior.

“It always seems like I’m apologizing to you up here, but I brought you here because I am sorry. I should have never let the line blur between us.” I’m thankful he’s the one who begins talking.

“Dex, I’m not sorry,” I say, and his head pops up.

“What do you mean?”

The sun dips lower, and I throw my head back to admire the sky, wondering if I’m about to make the worst mistake in my life. “I’ve wanted to erase that line between friendship and more for a long time. I don’t regret that at all.” I inhale a deep breath and a slow smile appears on his face before it vanishes too fast.

“We can’t, Chrissy.” He violently shakes his head. “I’ll be your rock, your best friend, but it ends there. You’re way too important of a person.”

“Can I ask you a question?” I grab a chicken nugget and hold it in my hand.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your relationship with Sam?” A loud and steady stream of air exhales from his lungs while his palms incase his head.

“Friends … with some benefits mixed in,” he admits, and while the admission stings me, I’m elated he hasn’t given his heart away yet.

“So, last night was part of the usual benefits?” I ask, not even positive I can handle the answer. From the corner of my eye, I see him glance up and release another breath of air. Here we go, I tell myself. It’s not like you thought he was a virgin.

“No,” he answers and brings his knees up to rest his elbows on.

“No?” I question again to double check I’m not hearing things.

“No. We didn’t,” he further clarifies, and I struggle to not allow my lips to show how happy I am inside.

“Why?”

“Nothing, Chrissy. Can we please talk about something else?” He runs his hand through his hair.

“Don’t you feel it?” I whisper.

“It doesn’t matter.” He gazes out at the horizon.

“Dex,” I sigh, but he shakes his head.

“Just stop!” he yells.

I slide closer to him, pushing the food to the side. Kneeling on the hard rock in front of him, I place my hands on either side of his cheeks, and he looks at me with scared and frightened eyes. “I want you, Dex. Why should we continue to deny our feelings for one another?”

“Because, if it goes south, it’s over. We’ll have no relationship, instead of a friendship that drives to the core like we have now.”

“That won’t work for me.” I sit back and cross my arms. Since the kind act didn’t work, I figure I’ll go for the pouty teenager one.

“It has to. It’s the only option we have.” He continues his argument while leaning back on his hands.

Climbing up on his lap, I allow either side of my legs to encase his waist, pressing my body against his. “Tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now.”

He shifts his head away. “I don’t want to kiss you,” he says straight-faced.

Inching forward, my lips only mere millimeters away. “Are you sure?” I ask, pushing my chest against him, enticing him. His chest rises and falls in rapid breaths.

“Yes.” He gulps deeply, and I giggle at his attempt to be so disregarding to my advances.

I move my mouth closer to his ear and whisper, “So, you’re telling me if I pressed my lips to yours right now, you wouldn’t reciprocate?”

“That’s right. I’m telling you, Chrissy,” he argues, and sick of the back and forth bullshit, I place my hands on either side of his face and smash my lips to his.

He keeps them tight for a few seconds, almost sucking his lips into his mouth. But the harder I press, the more his restraint diminishes. Without any indication he’s about to relent, I sit back and bite my lip. Our eyes focus on each other for a few seconds until he grabs my face, bringing it toward him, allowing our lips to collide. He positions me exactly where he wants me and claims my whole mouth with his. Inserting his tongue, I match the speed, darting so fast, it’s as if we’re unable to wait for one another. Pressing into him further, the desperate necessity to feel him, to affirm the excitement I may be evoking from him. He grabs my ass, squeezing and molding it with his hands.

His hand travels up my spine. Shivers rising with every inch until his fingers splay in my hair and then he abruptly tears my face away from his. He stands up, and I fall hard onto the rock. My ass is sure to be bruised. Pacing, his hands fly through his short hair and back down. Shaking his head from side to side, never even acknowledging my presence.

“Dex,” I sigh, exasperated with his ridiculous reasons we can’t be together.

Stopping, he crouches down. “Chrissy, what would you do if we don’t make it? Because, in order to still have one another in our lives, we have to make it all the way. No half-way. It’s either we win the Super Bowl or never get drafted.”

“Why are you worried about that?” I ask him, inching forward and placing my hand on his propped up knee.

“I don’t want to live without you in my life anymore. I’ve missed you the past years and I need you as much as air or food. I could fuck it all up in a matter of minutes.”

“Dex, stop worrying and enjoy this,” I coax, but he stands, shaking his head and continuing to pace back and forth.

“No, Chrissy. It can’t happen.” His feet stop, and he glares down at me. “It won’t happen,” he insists, his harsh tone pulling me back.

Crossing my legs, I place my head in my hands, shaking it back and forth. “I don’t understand, Dex. You just practically devoured me. You can’t deny the chemistry between us.” I’m a fool for ever believing he’d see me as someone for his future.

Crouching down, he grabs my hands from my face. “Because, you have no one but me in your life. I’m your family, and, in order to always remain that, we can’t be involved—” My heart sinks into the deepest part of my stomach with the knowledge that he’s drawn that line with a permanent marker.

“But.”

“EVER, Chrissy,” he finishes, with finality to the topic and it is no longer up for discussion.

“Why can’t you just love me? Stop worrying about saving me or protecting me! Just fucking love me, God damn it,” I scream, rising to my feet.

“Why don’t you get it? I’m doing this
because
I love you.” His head lifts, soft eyes focusing on mine. “I’m giving up my own happiness for yours. Why don’t you understand that?” His shoulders fall, and he turns around staring out into the horizon.

“No one asked you too, Dex. Stop thinking you know what’s best for me,” I whisper, but he never turns around.

Knowing it’s the end of the discussion, I begin walking back to the truck. With families already packing up their cars as dusk falls, I stand by the truck, waiting for Dex. A few minutes go by, and I catch a glimpse of him weaving through kids crying and parents’ slumped shoulders, his hat pushed down over his eyes and his hands in his pockets.

We don’t speak as he opens my door, continuing to be a gentleman. Silence carries over to the drive home, and when he pulls into the driveway, I’m thankful all the lights are turned off. He hasn’t fully stopped when I shuffle out of the truck, through the back door and up the stairs.

Locking myself in the bathroom, I strip off my clothes and sit down in the shower. Bringing my knees up to my chest, I bury my head against my legs and cry for everything I’ll never have.

A MONTH HAS passed since I climbed out of Dex’s truck, shattered and broken. The lingering doubt that I’m not good enough is confirmed in not just his words but his actions as well. He’s gone more than he’s here lately, and every time I do see him, he displays the forced smile or tries tossing a joke out to diffuse the tension. He’s yet to figure out that by pushing me away, our friendship has suffered a devastating blow and is already fading down to roommates that will gradually dwindle to acquaintances.

With Rob having fixed my car, at least I have transportation and am no longer indebted to anyone for rides. Sadie and Brady are more than welcoming, insisting I stay until I’ve saved enough. Brady jokes that Sadie would throw herself in front of the door, but, with their wedding coming up, I need to start considering finding a place of my own.

When I walk into the gallery, Ryland is behind my desk, a conspicuous grin plastered on his face. “You caught me,” he says, standing up and walking along the side.

“Caught you?” I tilt my head in confusion.

“Listen, I have to go to Akron. Remember when I said I was considering opening another gallery?” I nod. “My realtor just called with an amazing deal on a space.” He has a realtor?

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” I walk behind my desk, depositing my purse in the drawer and sliding forward, resting my elbows on my desk. Ryland stands there, leaning over, his dimples in pure sight. “What are you so happy about?” I ask, and he laughs.

“Nothing. I guess I’m just excited for new possibilities,” he comments, with his back to me while withdrawing to his office.

I boot up my computer and venture into the kitchen to start the coffee. But, I’m surprised to find it already brewing. “Ryland, you actually started the coffee maker?” I holler out the door, and he chuckles.