Page 8 of Cold Snap

Teresa

T hank God I keep a handcuff key on me. Who knows what I would have had to endure if I didn’t? Maybe him telling me I’m banned from the bar, or worse. He might have started telling me about his little blonde honey, which would have broken my heart.

So, why am I standing outside this stupid bar again? Why am I coming back to the one man who could absolutely destroy me? I like the pain.

I yank the door open just enough for me to slide inside the darkened room.

I wasn’t sure the door would even be unlocked since the bar is supposed to be closed today.

Unlike last night, everything is neat and tidy, ready for another night and more people.

Once my eyes adjust, I spot him sitting at the bar with the bottle of whiskey.

I feel his eyes travel down my body more than see it.

“You’re back.”

“I am. I shouldn’t have…”

“Ran away? Caused a bar fight? Left?”

“You said that one already.” I take the glass from him and take a cautious sip.

“That one is the one that irks me the most.”

Why would that irk him? Because he didn’t get to tell me what he thought of me acting like an ass? Did he spend the night with the blonde? God, I pray she’s not still here, maybe hanging around his apartment recuperating while he waits down here for her to leave.

“Is that why you're drinking whiskey and sitting in a dark room?”

He gives me a look that I can’t pin down.

“Today was bad.”

“Oh, no.” I immediately lose my standoffishness. I don’t say anything. He’ll tell me if he wants to, but I do step closer to him and lay my hand on his shoulder. I want him to understand I am here to listen if he needs to talk.

“You should check on Waylon when you can.”

“He was there.”

“Yep.”

I stand between his legs and place my hands on his shoulders before I start rubbing them for him.

“I’m sorry.”

We stare at one another for a long time. He finally leans forward and wraps his arms around me. He turns his head, so his face is buried in my shoulder. I can feel his breath against my neck and have to talk myself down from doing something stupid like turning my head to try to find his lips.

It takes me a moment, probably due to the fact that I’m trying so hard, to realize he’s breathing deeper, and occasionally his nose will brush against me.

Sweet hot hell! I think he’s breathing me in!

The knowledge sends a shiver down my body as my own arms come up to wrap more firmly around him.

My eyes close as I take this moment in. It’s so perfect, so intense and intimate, it will stay with me forever.

The cool air of the dim room, the sound of music on softly in the background, and him in my arms, all of it will live with me.

I run my hands through his hair and over his neck as his arms tighten around me.

“Teresa?”

“Yeah.” God, the way he says my name has my heart doing double time. Then I feel his lips on my neck.

My eyes widen as the touch becomes more evident, more defined.

Those are definitely his lips on the column of my neck, definitely his breath fanning out against my skin.

I’ve dreamed this so many times…and now, it’s really happening.

I can’t help but stand a little taller and arch my neck back so he can reach more of it.

“L…Land?” My breath comes out in a shudder as his hands travel up and down the length of my back. Holy shit! Is this…is this really happening?

His mouth stops moving, and he pulls back so we can look each other in the eyes. My hands loosen, and I brace myself for him to send me away or make a joke or something to break this unbearable tension that seems to be hanging throughout the room.

Instead, we move together, and before I can process any of it, our lips are touching, and his hands are everywhere at once.

My hands come up to cup his face as our kiss quickly heats up, and I open my mouth for him.

His tongue comes in, and it’s like there’s no more air in the room, and yet I’ve never been able to breathe so freely before.

My mind shuts off, no overthinking, no second-guessing, just blissful emptiness and him.

At first, I’m uncertain about what to do, but I quickly pick it up and mimic what he is doing to me with my tongue. My first kiss! And it’s with the man I always wanted it to be with.

And just like that, he’s pulling back and putting space between the two of us. At first, it’s not a lot of space, but I can tell something has changed. Something is…off. Then he takes a step back and another one until I’m forced to let him go, dropping my hands from him.

“We…we have to stop, Teresa.”

Stop? I don’t say a word, just trying to catch my breath.

“We can’t do this?” He waves his hands around like he is encompassing everything: the kiss, the hug, the meetings.

My body feels like cold water has been poured over it.

Shock courses through my body as I try to take in what he is saying because he keeps talking.

“We can’t touch and kiss and keep flirting like this. ”

I curl my lips around my teeth, but it does nothing but offer a cruel reminder. I can still taste him on my lips. This time, I back up.

“We have to stop it. All of it. There’s too big a risk for me.”

Oh! My! God!

Is he really…?

“I risk losing everything.”

My eyes start to sting with unshed tears and backed-up words I want to scream at him, but won’t. “You…risk everything? You…”

I don’t think I’ve ever hurt so badly, and yet, oddly at the same time, I feel numb, disconnected from the whole scene. I turn and start to walk away from…everything. This is the kind of shit that causes complete breakdowns.

He reaches out and stops me with his hand wrapped around my wrist, but now his touch feels…wrong. It feels wrong and that pisses me off!

I jerk my hand away from him, “No! I…,” I shake my head looking for the strength, “I was wrong.”

About so fucking much. I was wrong about this feeling and whatever it is.

I was wrong about this being a special moment and one I never want to forget.

I would love to forget every fucking second now.

I was wrong to think love would be enough to change his mind once he just let us have a chance. I was wrong about so much.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t want you to lose everything you worked so hard for.”

I wouldn’t want to think I could ever be enough to say fuck it to my father, my brother, this fucking town.

“That’s not…Teresa.”

I hold my hand up. “It’s Terry. Everyone calls me Terry.”

And now so will he.

He’ll never whisper my name in that sexy bedroom voice, begging me to come closer, show him even more love.

He’ll never be…the person I thought he was, and I was a fool.

I was a stupid fool who thought fairy tales could be real, and I could be one of the lucky ones.

I spin around and leave with the knowledge that Landry will never be the one!