Page 34

“Well, I’m driving tonight. If you want to have a drink…”

Courtney shakes her head. A coy smile tugs at the corners of her mouth, coating my insides with dread.

I don’t want to lose this girl again. Her smile is the most fucking precious thing I’ve ever known and I hate myself for knowing that I’m going to ruin it.

Maybe étty is right—Courtney doesn’t have to know about the doggie cams or me watching her through them.

Does she?

Of course, I know the answer. Not the one I want, but truth is king. Right?

Courtney waves down a server that comes over instantly. She has that effect on people. Drawing them to her whether male or female. Fuck, she even has that effect on animals. Samson is proof.

“Can I get another one of these?” she points to her empty margarita glass and then looks at me expectantly. “What would you like to drink, Masterchef?”

Masterchef.

A grin cuts my face at her endearment. Feels like forever since I’ve heard her use it.

“Water. Water is fine,” I say, replying to the older woman.

“Ice?”

“Sure.”

“Garnish? Lime and mint?” she asks and as I nod, Courtney tells her, “You know, he’ll have the mojito mocktail.”

I don’t drink mocktails… or cocktails for that matter. I like ice-cold beer, rum and coke, or plain old water. But for Court, I’ll drink whatever she wants me to. Whatever makes her happy. Keeps me in her orbit.

“It’s my treat,” she tells me as the server leaves us. “To say thank you for the UberEats.”

I freeze .

She smirks.

Then as the silence starts to get a little too much, she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Obviously I could pretend she’s asking about the food and make a smart remark. Keep this going as long as I can. Keep her for as long as I can.

“Honestly, I don’t know, Courtney. When you gave me your address it took me by surprise, and then it felt like if I told you it would make things weird.

” Sucking in a breath, I twist to face her.

It would be easier if I sat on the other side of the booth, but I want to be as close to her as I can.

And if I stay where I am, she can’t run from me when the conversation takes the turn she won’t like.

“I noticed that when we were physically closer, you were more standoffish. I figured if you knew I was across the hall, you’d avoid me. ”

Courtney nods, clearing her throat before she murmurs, “I have a hard time trusting people’s intentions.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, already knowing that this isn’t going to end well.

“It’s not your fault, Auguste.” Courtney pauses when the server returns with our drinks.

After a tentative sip of her mocktail she goes on, “You asked me before why my relationship with my stepdad is volatile… the answer is I can’t stand him.

The way he treats my mom. Martin is manipulative…

controlling…” Her nose wrinkles with the hard press of her lips.

“He’s emotionally abusive, and I have a hard time disassociating his pattern of behavior from men in general. ”

Taking a long pull of my drink, I ignore the fact it’s possibly the worst thing I’ve put in my mouth and focus on the sharp stab of brain freeze. Concentrating on the eye popping burn rather than my chaotic thoughts.

Until her cool hand cups my face, thumb rubbing along the top of my cheekbone. It’s the healing touch I don’t need. I don’t deserve .

“Don’t drink so fast,” she chuckles quietly. A gentle snicker that twists the knife already rooted deep in my chest.

Molding my hand to the back of hers, I stroke down to her wrist. Clutching it tight as I tug her closer. The need to kiss her, taste the sweet strawberry ice glistening on her lips, is killing me. So fucking slow it might as well be a thousand deaths on repeat.

“Courtney…”

She leans in closer. Face tilting. I know what’s coming. The thrill of it is thrumming mercilessly through my veins .

“Court…”

“Auguste…” The sugary warmth of her breath flutters across my lips.

Fuck.

“I… we can’t… I can’t …” Gripping her wrist tighter, I pry her hand from my face. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why? I thought…” Hurt pinches her face, lining her baby blue stare with soul crushing tears. “Why did you come here? Why—what—I don’t… I don’t understand. I thought you—why are you here?”

“Because I want you. I can’t stay away from you…” She edges back, confused, and I don’t stop her. “Every goddamn second of every damn day, ever since I hit you with that fucking puck, you’re everything I think about. I fucking ache for you more than my next breath.”

“Oh,” Courtney whimpers, blinking the tears from her eyes.

All I can do is watch them trace down her cheeks. Collecting at the corners of her full lips before she licks them up.

“Can you understand what this is like for me?” She says nothing. I can’t blame her because every word that comes out of my mouth is deranged. Sounds it. Feels it.

Courtney twists her wrist out of my hold, and before I retract my hand, her fingertips are curling around mine.

I’m watching her delicate fingers knot with mine—so milky next to my light brown skin. Everything about her is the complete opposite of me. I don’t know how I ever thought that we had a chance. How I had a chance.

I’m everything she’s afraid of, and I wish I could change that. But I can’t change who I am. The same way I never want her to change who she is.

Not when she’s so perfect already.

“If you want me that bad… you can have me…”

A long nail rakes the inside of my palm and I squeeze her fingers one last time before I pull my hand back.

“No,” I say, shifting to the edge of the bench. “I can’t. I can’t take any more advantage of you than I already have.”

Courtney rolls her eyes, a silent not-this-bullshit-again. “And if I want you to?”

“Trust me, Princess, you don’t.”

“I do,” Courtney retorts, her voice hoarse but steady.

So sure even though she has no clue of all the reasons she’s wrong.

“Fine, whatever… have it your way. Just stop pretending that you’re so obsessed with me.

Li ke you want me so damn bad when you don’t.

As if you can’t stay away from me even though you’re the one that draws a line when we get too close to something. ”

“There is no fucking line, Courtney!” Her nose flares with her sharp breath, ready to argue back.

Before she has a chance, I clear my throat and tell her, “There is no line I won’t cross for you.

That I haven’t crossed just to be near you.

To have every part of you I can get my hands on…

set my sights on. You want to know how I fucking know everything about you? ”

The only reply I get is her stilted breaths and rounded eyes. She’s rapt with my unraveling.

“I watch you. Every chance I get. At work. At home. I can’t fucking stop.”

The tension pinching her face eases, relaxing her jaw. “You watch me. At home.”

Her stare is on mine. Unmoving. I’ve never seen her this still.

I can’t fucking read her.

Then she asks, quietly, far too calmly, “How? How do you watch me at home? In my apartment?”

“Matheo had doggie cams installed and…” When her mouth opens, I pause.

But then she says nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

And my fucking insides are screaming. My thoughts are tearing themselves apart while I burn from the inside out.

“It was only meant to be a one-time thing. Just to make sure you were okay after I… I nailed your head with the puck… and then I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t… I?—”

“Oh,” she whimpers again, her face soft but twisted at the same time.

I don’t know what that means.

“Court…”

“Okay,” she says, voice pitched and shaky. “Okay…”

“Okay?” Courtney does not look okay . Her face is paler than ever while she continues looking at me too impassively.

“Okay,” she repeats, clearing her throat before throwing back the rest of her frozen drink. I think she’s wishing it was the real deal now that she’s pushing her eyes back into their sockets from the brain freeze. “Fuck.”

I don’t know what to say. What to do. I’m struck dumb going through all the different ways I could have delivered the truth to make it hit differently.

“I need…” Courtney says, edging forward, I don’t get a chance to get up and let her out of the booth before she climbs across me, and stands looking at me.

I think I’ve broken her. Not a sound comes out of her mouth the several times she opens and closes it.

Until I start to stand and she holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. “I need a moment. I need a… fuck…”

That’s all Courtney says before she reaches across the table and grabs her backpack, hitching it onto her shoulder as she scurries towards the bathroom.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck… fuuuuuuck !”

What do I do now?

What can I do?

I fucked up from the beginning, and now she’s probably trying to find a way to escape the bars outside the bathroom window. Probably trying to figure out a way to get away from me as fast as she can.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting here, staring at the awful concoction she ordered for me. Lime and mint sprout from the crushed ice doused in sugar and club soda. Even though I know I hate it, I suck it up as fast as I can. Allowing the brain freeze to curdle through the storm raging in my skull.

All I can picture is the shock on Courtney’s face. The color drain from her soft skin. Her eyes bugging.

It’s been way more than a moment when I check my phone. North of ten minutes when I check it again. And then when it hits short of a half hour it becomes abundantly clear that Courtney’s not coming back to the booth. Maybe she’s already snuck out.

Signaling the server over, I take care of the check and order an Uber. Forwarding the details to Courtney before I head out.

Although she said she needed a moment, it’s obvious she meant she needs space.

I can’t begrudge her that. I can’t be mad at her for not understanding why I couldn’t stop myself from watching her.

Why there isn’t a single line in this goddamn universe that could keep me from her.

Not a single rule I won’t break and rewrite for her.

And maybe it’s time I made her understand.