Page 109 of The Cruelest Chaos

For one moment.

But then I hear Maverick saying,I want to fuck you in the ass, and the moment passes.

I’m none of those things my mother called me. And I’m definitely not a fucking kid.

I yank my hand out of his grip with enough violence that he actually lets go and I see a flash of surprise on his face.

“Whatever I did or didn’t do with Mark, you deserved worse. You deserved for me to do it in fucking front of you.” I step forward, getting in his face but keeping my hands by my sides. I’m afraid I’ll actually hurt him if I don’t and I’m not sure just how brutal this might get. “You deserved to never hear from me again. You deserved to wonder if I ended up happy with someone else. With someone who might know how to say something nice and mean it. Who might know how to open up to me! To fucking talk to me—“

“Because you are the queen of communication, right, baby?”

“—to tell me what you do when I’m not here. What your weird ass friends do. Where you work. Why you hole yourself up in that office and why you’re alway angry—“

“Do you want me, Ella?”

What?

“Do you want me?”

The rest of my tirade falls from my mouth and I’m almost embarrassed. Almost embarrassed I said so much to someone who has given me so little of himself. Someone who has fucked me over in one of the worst ways.

I take a step back and cross my arms. “What?” It’s all I can think to say.

“Do you want me?” he asks for the third time. “Do you want me, or do you just want someone?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what—“

“Do you just want anyone who will have you? Pull you out of where you’ve been? Take you away from your mom? Feed you? Fuck you?” He steps closer and I step back. “Love you?”

No. No, that’s not it at all. He has no idea what he’s—

“It’s okay if you do, baby,” he whispers, and there’s no malice in his words. No anger. He doesn’t touch me but he steps even closer, his blue eyes locked on mine.

I want to look away. I want to tell him he’s crazy. I want to tell him this is about him and what he did to me and not about—

“It’s okay to want to be loved, Ella.” He reaches out a hand and brushes a lock of hair from my face. I remember he has blood on his skin but I can’t move. I can’t speak, even as he cups my chin. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing wrong with that.”

I think of how he said that about the kinds of sex we have. The kinds of things I wanted from him. I feel suddenly hot, warm all over.

“No,” I manage to say. That’s not it. I’m not desperate. I know what love is. I’m not starving. I’m not...

He leans down, brushes his lips against mine. “It’s okay, baby,” he assures me, and my heart swells and I think it might crack. I think he might break it and I think...

I think...

“I want it, too. But I’ve been with women. I’ve chased the high. I still do. I was still looking. Until you.”

A tear spills down my cheek and he brushes it away with his thumb.

“Until you came along and wrecked my whole world under a stupidly beautiful moon. I was so angry and you were so willing and...” He swallows, averting his eyes but not letting go of me. “And I was terrified.”

More tears sting my eyes and I cradle my arms tighter to my chest, my lip trembling.

“I was so scared and I felt like a kid again.” He meets my gaze, running his thumb back and forth over my cheek. “I felt like a stupid kid because love isn’t real and it doesn’t happen that fast and the people I love... I always hurt them.”

I think about the girl. I think about the night I told him no and he didn’t want to listen...

His hand leaves my face and my stomach twists up in knots. He looks away again and I can’t take it.