Page 99 of Deadly Blooms (Psychic Unraveled #1)
I crossed the room in two strides and dropped to the edge of the mattress. “Max—shit, I should have warned you. I’m sorry it was so… graphic… too soon even.”
My voice came out hoarse. Like I’d swallowed sand and regret and tried to cough out an apology.
“No, it’s not that.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. She scratched behind Chester’s ears, his rumbling purr the only sound between us.
“What happened in the bathroom? The way you kissed me? The way you just… came?” She swallowed. “It felt like I wasn’t even there.”
My gut twisted hard.
“Ever since I took this case—since I met you—I’ve been shoving down flashbacks of that day.” I reached out, gently brushing a tear-streaked strand of hair behind her ear. The sight of her crying because of me— that was a blade straight to the chest.
“I fucked you like I’ve fucked every woman since Rebecca died.” My voice dropped low and abrasive. “Fast. Mindless. Just a release. Something to remind me I’m still human.”
I forced myself to look at her.
“I used you. And I hate that I did.” My throat tightened. “I swear to you, Max—I will never fuck you like that again. But that kiss… that kiss was real. That kiss was me claiming the last parts of you, I couldn’t have.”
Her eyes searched mine. She hadn’t said a word. Just sat there, still, like if she moved, the whole goddamn world might fall apart.
I shouldn’t have said any of that.
No—I should have let her know right away how damaged I was. But not like this. Not naked. Not dripping grief, and cum, and regret all over her. I should’ve?—
Her voice cut through the fog. Quiet. Not soft. Just worn down.
“I’m not her, Graham.”
I nodded. Once. “I know that.”
My chest fucking cracked.
“I never asked you to be.”
She finally looked up at me. Her eyes weren’t pitying—they were bracing. Like she was holding herself back from falling down a hole she knew damn well I lived in.
“I can see how much you loved her. I hear it in your voice.”
I swallowed hard.
“Yes. She was my entire world. We were together since we were kids. She was my best friend. And I’m not looking for her in you, Max.
I’m just… I didn’t know it was possible to feel those things again.
And then you showed up. And every time you call me an asshole, or roll your eyes, or feed your goddamn cat the nuggets you got especially for him, I feel it again. ”
I finally met her eyes.
“It wasn’t until you showed up that I felt it—something shifted inside me. You remind me of the best parts of my relationship with her. You made my heart start beating again.”
God, she was still just sitting there.
Waiting. Processing.
Just give her time.
“I try to get mad at you,” I said, forcing a dry laugh. “Thinking maybe it’ll make me love you less. But it never does. It just makes me fall harder. And that’s why I have to let you go—because I can’t hold you so tight you suffocate.”
Her gaze snapped to mine. “Maybe I want to be suffocated. Maybe I want you to use me like you did. Maybe I want us to be that for each other. Did you ever think of that?” Her voice wavered, but behind the tears, there was fire.
“Maybe you’re the first person who’s ever loved me without being manipulated into it.
Every relationship before you was fake. This—” she gestured between us, breath unsteady, “—this is real. I can’t lose it.
I’ll never find it again. It’s like your my?—”
“I’m your downfall,” I said, the words scraping out like broken glass. I clasped her hand in mine. “You’ll find someone else. Maybe they won’t love you more than I do—no one could—but they’ll come close. Someone who won’t try to clip your wings just to keep you safe.”
Her fists clenched, nostrils flaring—pissed. “So you’re telling me to find someone willing to let me die?”
“No, never.” My throat tightened. “I’m telling you to find someone who’ll let you live .” I let go of her hand, fist curling at my sides to keep from reaching for her.
“Max, I’d turn the entire universe to ash if it meant you were safe. But somehow, no matter what I do, the people I care about get hurt. All I want to do is lock you away somewhere safe, but that’s not living. You have to find someone else.”
She gasped—stunned.
“I mean, I wouldn’t actually lock you up—that’s serial killer behavior, and God knows we’ve both had enough of that. But metaphorically? A nice cage, good airflow, comfy spreader bar.”
She didn’t laugh. Just stared past me, tears building, my attempt at levity landing like a body bag.
God, I was an asshole.
“Max… I’m meant to be alone. Meant to live my life never getting close to anyone again, because when I do… they get hurt. I’m begging you. Please find someone who won’t destroy you.”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Just promise me you won’t end up with some beaded-bracelet wearing douchebag who calls himself ‘enlightened’.”
Her lips parted, but no words came. Her eyes searched mine—confused, desperate—like she was looking for some crack she could slip through. And maybe there was one, because every part of me was screaming to take it all back.
But I didn’t.
I stood, and grabbed my clothes from the bathroom. When I turned, she was still sitting there, staring—everything we could’ve been hanging between us like a ghost. My chest tightened, like I was suffocating myself just to set her free.
Ah, fuck.
I reached out and ran a hand over Chester’s soft fur. His purr rumbled under my palm, blissfully unaware of the wreckage I was leaving behind. I leaned in until our foreheads touched.
“Take care of her for me, will you, buddy?”
And then—even though every goddamn part of me said don’t— I walked out.