Page 161 of The Storm

“Don’t call me that.” I swallow hard before I meet his eyes.

“I can’t not call you Blue. You’ve always been Blue to me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter as I push myself to my feet. “I’m not fucking Dylan.”

There’s a hint of relief in his gaze.

And a flash of anger underneath my skin.

I grab the shot he didn’t get to finish before and tip it back. I slam the glass down making a face at the bitter taste.

“Anymore,” I add.

He drops his head back and exhales before he pins me with another look.

“But you have.”

“Why does it matter?” I spread my arms. “What the fuck does it matter anymore what I have or haven’t done?”

“You’ve fucked other people besides me?” he asks roughly, and anger is flashing in his eyes too now, and he has no right. He has no fucking right!

“Yes.” I sound calmer than I have the whole night, even if every known emotion seems to currently be choking the air right out of my chest. “I have. Do you want a list?”

He’s up on his feet too, stalking toward me, vibrating with tension.

“Blue,” he rasps, and a rush of longing washes over me. I’ve heard him say my name like this before. The same rasp. The same kind of helpless desperation. His breath against my ear. His naked, sweaty body pressed against mine.

He’s so close now. Too close. I can smell tequila on his breath and rain on his skin. His chest presses against mine. His palm slides over the side of my neck, and his fingers sink into the hair at the back of my head.

His forehead falls against mine. I breathe him in greedily.

“I want to make you forget them,” he murmurs.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I squeeze my mouth shut.

No.

What a terrible idea.

No.

I even shake my head.

“Forget who?”

His lips flutter over my cheek as he leans into me.

“It’s you and me,” he says. “And the last six years never happened. The life we were supposed to have? We got it. You and me, Blue.”

The breath that escapes my lips is more like a sob.

“This is our home, and?—”

“No,” I choke out. “Fuck no. Don’t.”

“Blue,” he whispers, fingers tightening in my hair. “We’re going to pretend that none of it happened. Just for tonight.” He’s speaking faster now. “It’s us, and we have forever. And none of those other people? They didn’t happen. They haven’t seen you like I have. They haven’tfeltyou like I have.”

I try to push him away. Ifightto get away, but his hold on me only tightens.