Page 153 of Just for the Cameras
I try to calm the anger in my chest and focus on the girl in front of me, who is standing in her doorway, arms crossed, as she looks up at me, waiting for whatever it is I have to say.
I glance behind me to make sure the douche has left, and when he’s out of sight, I turn back to her, my words failing me now as I look into her beautiful, captivating eyes.
“You wanted to talk?” she asks in a soft voice.
I clear my throat. “Um, yeah.” When she doesn’t invite me in, I realize I’m going to have to do this in her apartment hallway. “I want to start by saying I’m really sorry for how I treated you yesterday. I was going through some tough shit, and instead of pushing it to the side, I took it out on you.”
She nods, her gaze falling to the floor.
“You don’t deserve that kind of treatment, Maple. You’ve been patient with me, you’ve cared about me and my well-being, and you’ve given me multiple chances to make up for my shit behavior. So I understand why this time…this time you’ve taken a step back. Not only was I an asshole to you, but I hurt you.”
I wet my lips, my nerves making my skin crawl as I try to articulate what I’m feeling.
“I need you to know that, that…fuck.” I let out a deep breath. “I like you, Maple, and these feelings I have for you, they’re…they’re out of my comfort zone, which doesn’t give me an excuse to treat you the way that I did, to belittle you in front of my teammates. It’s inexcusable, and I’m really fucking sorry.” I tip her chin up so she can look at me, and fuck, there they are, the tears once again brimming in her eyes. “It was never my intention to hurt you, Maple. I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”
She blinks, and a tear falls down her cheek.
Yet here I am, hurting her.
She’s crying.
Because of me.
Because I’m a fuckup.
I quickly wipe her tears away with my thumb, and as the hot liquid melts into my skin, I question if I’m doing the right thing. If I should even be here.
If I can make her cry like this, then how the hell do I come off trying to tell her about my feelings?
Do I even have anything to offer her other than heartache?
I’m a man with so much baggage, so much heartache of my own, that all I would be doing is loading it onto her when she is too goddamn innocent for any of it.
She’s sunshine and radiance.
She’s joy and strength.
She’s so much more than I could ever be, and standing here, witnessing the pain I can cause her, I realize just how much I don’t deserve this.
I don’t deserve her.
What the hell am I even doing?
I need…hell, I need to let her go.
I wet my lips and pull my hand away, knowing that at least I can offerher the reassurance that she did nothing wrong, that I truly regret how I acted.
I owe her that much.
I stick my hands back in my pockets and take a step away from her, attempting to keep my distance so I don’t do something stupid, like push her into her apartment, up against her wall, and steal that innocence right from her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Maple. Really fucking sorry, and I hope that…that we can move forward from this and at least be friendly with each other.” Friendly, Jesus, I hate everything about that. “And moving forward, you have my word that I won’t ever put you in a situation like I did ever again because you deserve better treatment than what I bestowed upon you yesterday.”
Her lashes flutter up as her eyes connect with mine, causing my heart to tumble out of my goddamn chest, right in front of us, on the dirty, scratched-up floor of her apartment hallway.
She’s so beautiful that it takes my breath away, and I just wish there was an alternate reality where I could claim her. Make her mine.
Where I wasn’t weighed down by my past, by my fucked-up future.
