Page 25 of Glitches and Kisses (The Havenwood #2)

I should have felt satisfied. Should have felt something good.

Instead, that same familiar tightness returned to my chest.

I slipped out of bed as carefully as I could, muscles sore in ways I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. The floor was cold under my feet as I moved toward my dresser, pulling out clothes.

I needed to get ready. My flight left in a few hours.

I needed to not think about last night.

I needed to move, to focus, to push it down before it had the chance to creep under my skin.

I grabbed my travel bag from the floor and headed for the bathroom, carefully, quietly, stepping around the creaky floorboard near the bed so I wouldn’t wake Evan.

I shut the door behind me and let out a slow breath, pressing my hands against the cool granite of the sink.

My reflection in the mirror looked wrecked.

Messy hair, lips still slightly swollen from Evan’s kisses, the faintest shadow of his touch still lingering on my skin.

Don’t think about it. I crammed my clothes into my bag.

I turned the shower on, waiting until steam curled around the edges of the glass before stepping in.

The water was too hot, but I let it burn, let it seep into my bones, washing away the haze of last night.

My muscles ached, not just from the way we’d moved together, but from the weight of what I hadn’t and still couldn’t say .

I should feel good. I should feel satisfied, relaxed, something other than the tangled mess inside my head.

I braced my hands against the tile of the shower, head hanging forward as the water rushed over me.

I didn’t know how to do this. Didn’t know how to give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

I finished quickly, shutting the water off, running a towel through my hair before tucking it around my waist. I breathed, steadied myself, shoved every fucking thought down, and pulled myself back together.

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, my overnight bag in my hand, I heard the sheets rustle behind me.

And then, Evan quietly stirred. The sound of him waking up.

For a moment, I let myself want it. Want the weight of him still warm from sleep. Want the way he always mumbled something incoherent before his brain caught up. Want the way he fits in my space, in my bed.

But that was dangerous. Because this wasn’t that.

Evan sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before blinking at me. His voice was rough with sleep. “You’re leaving already?”

I flatly responded, “Flight’s in a few hours. I have to finish packing.”

He watched me, eyes piercing even though he still looked soft from sleep. “Right.”

I didn’t respond. Just kept packing.

Shirt. Socks. Toiletry bag. Laptop charger.

Just keep moving.

Evan shifted, twisting to sit at the edge of the bed, watching me. He was quiet for a long moment before he finally spoke.

“Noah.”

I froze. Just for a second. Then, I kept packing.

“What are we doing?”

The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be.

I swallowed, shoving a pair of jeans into my bag. “What do you mean?”

Evan scoffed, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe me. “You know exactly what I mean.”

I turned, finally meeting his look. “Evan, I…”

“I want to be your boyfriend.”

Fuck. He just said it. Right there. No hesitation. No dancing around it. Just said it .

His hands curled into fists on his thighs. “I don’t want to do this anymore, not like this. Not where I’m guessing at every turn. I want to be with you. Officially.”

I clenched my jaw, turning back to my bag. “Evan, I travel too much. I work too much. I don’t do relationships.”

“That’s bullshit,” he snapped.

I stilled.

Evan stood, crossing the room in three quick steps. “You can’t keep doing this. Can’t keep ‘dating me’ and kissing me and now fucking me if you can’t even say what this is.”

His voice was tight, edged with something raw.

Before I could stop the words, they flew out of my mouth. “Evan, YOU wanted me to fuck you.” The second they landed between us, I regretted them.

Evan’s breath caught, his entire body going still. He blinked once, twice, like he needed to make sure he’d actually heard me right. And then, something in his expression shattered.

He let out a short, quiet breath, then laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just something sharp. Something cracked open.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “I did.”

His eyes wandered over me, like he was seeing me for the first time. Or maybe like he was finally seeing me for what I was.

“But I didn’t want to feel like just another fucking thing you needed to get out of your system.”

His voice was steady, but his eyes burned.

“And I sure as hell won’t be somebody’s obligation.”

The words landed hard, right where I already ached.

I wanted to fix it. Wanted to say something. But my throat locked up, and the words wouldn’t come. I swallowed hard, my chest aching with something I didn’t know how to name.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out.

Evan waited. For one second. For two.

Then, his jaw tensed, and he nodded to himself, like he’d finally gotten the answer he needed. “Okay.”

His voice was clipped. Quiet. Final.

He grabbed his jeans off the floor, yanked them on without a word.

I wanted to stop him. Wanted to tell him, what? That I was sorry? That I did want this, but I didn’t know how? That the idea of naming this made something inside me panic?

But I didn’t. Couldn’t .

He buttoned his jeans, pulled his shirt over his head, and shoved his feet into his sneakers.

I clenched my fists.

He turned to leave.

Say something.

I didn’t.

And then, he was gone.

The front door clicked shut.

I stood there, staring at it. At the space where he had been. At the silence he left behind.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, I realized I just fucked everything up.