He’s freshly shaven and wearing faded jeans and a blue sweater. For a moment, I can’t process him like this. Here. Attentive. Smiling. Not dressed all in black like the grim reaper.
Does not compute.
His smile drops. “What the fuck is that look for? You’re staring at me like I’m a serial killer. The cocoa isn’t poisoned.”
Okay, that’s more familiar.
“It’s just, you’re not usually…” I’m distracted by how gorgeous and … unburdened he looks. “Uh, what are you doing here?”
He pushes past me and puts the cup on the table. “I’m being a better boyfriend, remember? Regular boyfriends walk their girlfriends to class, so here I am.” He picks up my bag and slings it over his shoulder. “Fuck me, what do you have in here?”
“Books.”
“Lead books?”
“I’m thinking regular boyfriends are nicer than you.”
“I’m nice.”
I snort. “Okay.”
He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me against him, then kisses me in a way that makes my body go from zero to hormonal overload in about two seconds.
He looks down at me in triumph. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t nice.”
I nod. It’s not a valid answer, but it’s all I can manage.
“Ready to go?”
“Okay.”
He grabs my hand and pulls the door closed behind us.
I think I like this new boyfriend.
FOUR
HOLD ON TO ME
Present Day
New York City, New York
The Apartment of Cassandra Taylor
“Let me in, Cassie. Please.” He’s so persuasive. Soothing and coaxing as he moves his fingers up my arm before grazing my neck, then gently cupping my face. “Just let go of the door.”
He leans down, lips soft against my cheek. Then there’s warm breath on my ear. I close my eyes as a tremor runs down my spine.
“I know that email doesn’t make up for everything I did—”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“—but I meant every word, and if you let me in, I’ll prove it to you. Show you. Love you. Please…”
He brushes his lips against my ear, and it makes me tremble.
He wraps his fingers around mine and pulls them away from the door.
“You want to hold on to something?” he says. “Hold on to me.” He brings my hands to his chest. When I curl my fingers into his muscles, he doesn’t flinch.
“Ethan, I don’t know if I can do this.”
“I know. Let me help you.”
“You never let me help you in the past.”
“I should have. Don’t make the same mistakes I did. Please. Let me show you how different I can be.”
I close my eyes as he presses my hands against his chest and strokes my fingers.
Am I doing this? Considering trying again with him?
I stare at his chest. His shirt is a button-down. Blue. If I looked into his eyes right now, they’d mirror the color.
He squeezes my hands. “I know you’re thinking that you’ve been shut down for so long, you don’t know how to wake up. That all these messy feelings I bring out in you make you wishes you’d never met me.”
I sigh. “Pretty much.”
He pauses for a few seconds, then says, “That’s how I used to feel about you. When we started getting serious, everything I felt got too big. It didn’t help that a paranoid voice inside kept whispering that you were going to destroy me. I’m sure in your head, there’s a voice saying the same thing.”
That’s true. The difference is, I had nothing to do with creating his trust issues, yet he’s the sole reason for all of mine.
“But you’ve told me you could do this twice before,” I say. “Twice you broke my heart.”
He strokes my hands again. “Cassie, look at me.”
I struggle to lift my gaze to his eyes. When I do, he doesn’t let me look away.
“In the past, I thought I could be what you needed. But thinking and knowing are two different things. Now, I know. Let me prove I can love you the way you deserve.”
I don’t know what I deserve anymore. I used to think I deserved him, but he proved me wrong time and again.
If he were to fail this time, there’d be nothing left of me.
FIVE
DESPISED VULNERABILITY
Six Years Earlier
Westchester, New York
The Grove
For two weeks, Ethan is everything I’d ever hoped for. He’s affectionate and attentive, and we have standing dates on Friday and Saturday nights. He’s even bought me flowers. Twice.
I can’t believe the change.
Neither can anyone in our group of friends.
“What the fuck have you done to Holt?” Jack asks when Ethan leaves our table in the cafeteria to buy me a drink. “It’s like that creepy-ass movie where everyone is taken over by aliens and become super-nice. He hasn’t told me to fuck off in weeks. It’s wrong and unnatural.”
Connor shrugs. “Maybe the love of a good woman has changed him.” He gives me a smile. “Personally, I’m glad he’s stopped being such an asshole. It was starting to piss me off.”
Zoe pulls out a compact and powders her nose. “Well, I call bullshit. No one as badass as Holt changes overnight, no matter how much he wants to. Did you see that look he gave Erika in mask class today? If his eyes were laser beams, she’d be dust. The real Holt is still in there, that’s for sure.”