Bonus Chapter Five
Nash - The Truth Comes Out
She’s sleeping in my bed.
Her delicate, small frame was bundled underneath my covers. I couldn’t look at her anymore; she looked so innocent - so peaceful. I wanted her. I wanted her more than anything I’d ever wanted in my entire life.
But that could never happen.
So, instead, I go to the couch and have been there for the past hour, replaying the last couple hours in my head.
She was so happy - carefree - when we were cruising down the dirt path. I’ve never seen her so alive before. It was her - the real Addy. I’ve never been in love with a girl before, but when I heard her laughs, I knew. I knew that I was in love with her.
I look up when I hear her soft footsteps echoing the quiet room. Last time we talked, she was mad - furious. I’ve never seen her look so angry before, and I never want to again. My eyes travel her body as her shirt and jeans mold to her frame. I suppress the groan, locking my eyes with hers.
“What am I doing here?” she asks, glaring at me.
“I didn’t know where your key was,” I say, my voice coming out as a whisper.
Addy moves to sit on the couch, keeping distance between us. I can tell she’s nervous; I see it in her tense body. All I really want to do is wrap her in my arms and hold her tight, but I don’t. Instead, I apologize.
Her voice rises, “For what, Nash? For lying to me? For using me? For making me fall in-”
My mind drifts to what she was going to say before she cut herself off, but I shrug it off, “For everything, Addy. I’m not a good person. You shouldn’t be around me. I wreck everything.”
“You should have told me about Chris! I deserved to know.”
“He should’ve been the one to tell you. He’s the one who’s your boyfriend,” I spat, anger lacing my tone.
“Who cares who my boyfriend is? If you knew something, you should have told me.”
I don’t mean to, but I start getting furious, my temper rising, “So you’re turning this on me? You’re making me the bad guy? Chris is the one who lied to you. Chris is the one who didn’t tell you the truth.”
I cut her off before she has the chance to speak. I don’t want to hear her voice. I want her to listen to me. I just want someone to listen to me for a change, “He doesn’t deserve you. You deserve someone better; someone who will treat you right. You don’t want him; you never did.”
“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I want,” she says.
Leaning closer, I say the first thing that comes to mind, not even caring that they could ruin everything, “You’re wrong. I know you want to kiss me. I can feel it. You can’t deny that.”
I see her eyes flicker to my lips. I know women’s bodies; I know her body. I know how she responds to my touch - her breathing getting heavier, her eyes becoming dilated. She closes her eyes, and I see her eyebrows scrunch, knowing that she’s thinking about what to do. When she reopens them, they’re breathtaking.
I know what she’s about to do.
I should stop her.
It wouldn’t wreck everything.
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