Page 139 of Wild Thing
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you decided to lie to me."
Brax took a step down, closing the distance between us. He was only one step above me. “Tell me you don’t love me.”
We were so close to each other, all it would take would be one small shift, one small movement, and our lips would touch.
The memories hit me then.
Like a montage, I saw him in the hotel bar, at the candlelight dinner, in the tiling superstore.
I felt his arms wrapped around me at the concert, the feel of his skin under my hands in the shower, the worksite, that coastal drive, in the ocean, my bed. How it felt to wake up next to him.
Every conversation, every kiss, every touch, every fuck—all of it came flooding back to me.
“Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll walk away,” Brax said again, his voice dark and low.
He reached for me with his other hand, wrapping it around my waist and pulling me tightly against him.
I hated the way I wanted him.
How my body responded. How even now, after all of this, I still had this undeniable need for him.
Leaning forward, he brushed his lips lightly against mine.
"I love you," he whispered.
For a moment, I allowed myself to feel the softness of his lips.
But I didn’t kiss him back.
He pulled back slowly.
I stared at him, studying his face as if it were the last time I would ever see it. I etched every detail deep into my memory. The sharp lines of his jaw, the stormy depths of his eyes, the dark mess of his inky black hair that I had once loved running my fingers through.
His vicious throat tattoo.
Against every fiber in my being, I locked my eyes onto his and chose to lie straight to his motherfucking face. “I don’t love you.”
My heart cracked in two at the lie. I'd been lying all week but nothing prepared me for how this final one felt.
It felt like something died inside of me as I said it.
Brax held onto me in disbelief for a few seconds more, before slowly releasing me.
Choking back tears, I stepped around Brax and ran up the stairs, towards the entrance to the convention center.
I left him there.
I didn't look back.
And as usual, he didn’t chase me.
Thirty-Eight
DYLAN
My heart pounded violently against my ribcage. Silent tears began streaming down my face as the weight of everything hit my like a freight train.
In my distressed haze, I missed it.
