Page 91 of Almost Ravaged

The guy who drove us here zips past, chasing the kid who sat beside me in the van across the flat top of the rocks.

As three more people jog past, the adrenaline spiking through my veins transforms into rage.

“Don’t even fucking think about trying to boulder the side of the Ledges again,” Cam yells. “You don’t even have pants on.”

My anger boils and metastasizes, turning into fury, the frustration of another lost opportunity making every nerve ending in my body crackle.

The wind picks up, rustling the nearby trees, the cool night air dampening the sensation enough to allow me to suck in a breath and blow it out again. Head down, I run both hands through my hair, willing myself to keep it together.

We came here with a group. I assumed people would be drinking and smoking. I expected a general party vibe. Yet here I am, freaking the fuck out.

I’m a fucking idiot.

I should’ve known this wasn’t the right time to push for what I’ve wanted for so long. There is no way this night would have ended up the way I want it to.

“Hey.” Sawyer is suddenly at my side, her arms looped around my waist.

I jolt on contact, but she doesn’t pull away. She waits me out while I close my eyes and count to ten. She keeps her arms wrapped around my torso, with her chin planted on my pec. She doesn’t give up on me. Never fucking has.

She knows we’re endgame.

Even if we have no fucking idea when the game will even fucking begin.

Finally, I exhale and force my shoulders to relax. Only then can I look at her.

“Okay?” she asks, her irises dark now that the light is almost gone.

I’m not okay.

This isn’t okay.

But for now, I grit my teeth and lie. Once we’re alone—truly alone, just the two of us—it will be okay.

Better than okay.

It’ll be bliss.

We just haven’t gotten there yet.

Chapter thirty-two

Sawyer

It was now or never, and somehow, despite the pull toward one another and the shared desire to be together, we still landed on never.

When I pulled that trigger, I knew there’d be a price.

The loneliness and the lasting trauma, I expected. But I never imagined Tytus and I would remain in this battle of push and pull, ebb and flow, back and forth for all these years.

We’re two magnets with the same charge. We can only get so close before life or fate or the sheer strength of our own polarity forces us apart again.

We almost had it all.

But almost isn’t enough.

I’m done. I have to be. I owe it to myself, and to Ty. I can’t keep hoping and wishing and torturing us with the prospect of a real relationship.

If I needed a sign, this was it.