Page 60 of No Mistakes

Her breath catches, like my words hit too close.

“I picture it all the time,” I say. “You and me. A house. And you're yelling at me for leaving wet towels on the bed.”

“You would do that,” she says, but her voice is soft now, as if she’s picturing it herself.

“Only to piss you off.”

“Mission accomplished.”

Silence settles between us. Not peaceful. Not hostile. Just loaded with unsaid words.

My gaze drops to her legs on top of the duvet, my mind wandering to me between them. Her skin still flushed from the walk, her hair messy, her mouth too close to something that tastes like a kiss I never got to keep.

I can’t stop the words before they come, breaking the silence. “You’re breathing too loudly.”

Her eyes snap to mine. “Excuse me?”

“It’s distracting,” I say, smiling at the fact that I wound her up, just so I could see that fire in her eyes.

“You’re a child.”

“I’m a man on a chair trying not to crawl into that bed and ruin both of us.”

She stills, and I see her cheeks turn a faint shade of pink from the outside lights that filter through the curtains. I know her walls are breaking, and all I need to do is get through that last layer.

“I know you don’t want to believe me. But I meant it. I always will.”

Eva exhales, long and tired, turning her face towards the window. “You don’t get to mean it now.”

“Why not?”

Her voice cracks when she says it. “Because I needed youthen.”

Her words hit me like a slap, like a reality check. I needed to understand what I did wrong. I stand, needing to be close to her.

The chair scrapes slightly behind me, and I walk slowly towards the bed. She sits up a little, back pressed to the end of the bed as I approach. Her mouth opens, probably to tell me to stop, but I kneel on the edge of the bed, hands on either side of her thighs, and I see the rise of her chest quicken.

“I know you hate me right now,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on hers. “I know you’re still deciding if I’m worth forgiving.”

“I’m still pissed,” she says, like a warning.

I grin, knowing her words are half true. “I know.”

Her eyes narrow. “Wipe that smug look off your face-”

I cut her off by moving between her legs, pushing them apart. Her gasp is soft, her thighs parting willingly as I edge forward.

“Still pissed?” I ask, my voice low.

“Yes,” she says, but it’s a whisper now.

I kiss the inside of her leg softly, looking up at her while I do. “Still hate me?”

She doesn’t answer, but I don’t miss the way that her fists clench like she doesn’t trust herself not to touch me. My hands skim her calves, trailing up until I’m gripping her thighs, spreading them wider around me on the mattress. I climb up just enough to cage her in, like I’m the hunter, and she’s my prey.

We’re not touching, not yet. I can see the war going on behind her eyes.

“You always did love it when I teased you.”