Page 89 of False Comeback

When I walked back into the bedroom, I picked up Crossbody’s discarded shirt. The sweat had dried, leaving it a creased, crumpled mess. I tried to smooth it out as best I could and left it draped over the back of the chair.

I looked over at him as I pulled on my boxer briefs and jeans. He’d rolled onto his stomach and was still sleeping deeply, one knee pulled up on the bed and his face buried in the pillow. That throb started up in the pit of my stomach again, but it wasn’t so urgent this time. Wasn’t just rooted in mindless lust and a clawing need to get inside him, even as my gaze slid up his long legs and over his ass to the graceful dip of his spine. In the low light, I could see the faint wing slits between his shoulder blades, and I found my tongue pushing against my teeth as I wondered if they were sensitive. I wanted to find out.

But I didn’t know if I was going to. We’d agreed on one more time, and we couldn’t keep doing this. We shouldn’t want to keep doing this. So we happened to have mind-blowing sexual chemistry—we’d have that with other people too. Other people who didn’t come with an existing rivalry or a complicated work relationship. Other people who suited us better. Because Crossbody and I were nothing alike.

I checked the time on my phone as I fastened my jeans. Almost 6 a.m.

Before I could decide whether to wake him up or let him sleep for longer, I heard him stir on the bed, his breathing changing as he stretched and rolled onto his back. My throat closed up a little as he rubbed his eyes, looking soft and vulnerable.

“What time is it?” he mumbled, pushing back his messy hair as he sat up.

“Almost six.” I cleared my throat when my voice came out rough. “So we should probably go soon.”

He nodded, shifting to the edge of the bed and standing up. I quickly walked over and handed him his briefs and pants, hovering anxiously as he bent to slip them over his feet.

“How are you feeling?”

He looked up at me with a tiny, tired smile. “Good. Don’t worry.”

“You should take it easy at work again, though.”

“I will.” He looked around for his shirt, spotted it on the chair and made his way over to pick it up.

When I saw how much of a crumpled mess it still was, I lunged for my sweater and hurried toward him.

“Wear this,” I blurted, holding it out, because for some reason, I didn’t want him to have to leave in his ruined shirt. I knew he wouldn’t want to risk being seen in public like that. Shit like that was important to him—looking his best and stuff.

He paused, staring down at the sweater I was offering before slowly reaching out to take it. “Alright. Thank you.”

I took the shirt and slipped it on, trying not to think about how much it smelled like him. He chuckled as his head emerged from the neck of my black sweater, giving me a tired but beautiful grin.

“It’s a bit too big for you.”

I found myself smiling too as I glanced down it, doing up the final buttons. “Yeah.”

My sweater was a little loose on me, so it hugged his arms and torso nicely. He nibbled his lower lip as he looked at me, then gestured at the shirt.

“It’s quite creased. I don’t mind—”

“It’s okay. I don’t care.”

“Alright,” he said again, softly. “Thank you.”

After an awkward hesitation, I turned and walked over to sit on the end of the bed and pull on my socks and shoes. Crossbody did the same, his knee brushing mine as he leaned down to tie the laces on his boots. Neither of us spoke, and by the time I was shoving my stuff back into my pockets and picking up the room key, my stomach was jittery with anxiety.

After we’d both shifted into our human forms, I opened the door and waited for him to step outside. The air was chilly, making my skin prickle under the loose shirt.

I had no idea what to say, so I stayed silent as Crossbody took a few steps toward his car, then stopped and turned around to face me. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Vince.” His voice was still soft and quiet. “What you said at court that day—that it seems like I try to make everyone around me feel worthless in comparison…” He swallowed as I tensed, the motel room key digging into my palm, and my heart thudded hard when he looked at me, brows pinched. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that way. I really wasn’t trying to, but if I still did…”

“It’s okay,” I said hesitantly, a part of me unable to believe that Crossbody had just apologised to me, and that I’d just forgiven him that easily. “I know you just… talk like that. Sometimes I take stuff the wrong way. I guess. I don’t know.”

“It’s not true, anyway.” He sighed and looked down at the car keys in his hands. “I don’t think that about any of you. I grew up feeling like I…”

I tensed even more as he trailed off, then cleared his throat and lifted his chin. Suddenly, I could see the usual Crossbody returning, that shield going up, the soft and gentle and quiet side retreating. I already missed it.

“Anyway, I’m sorry.” He gave me a curt nod. “And… thank you, again, for last night. I’m sure we’ll both…” Hesitating, he waved a hand vaguely and finished in a dull voice, “Move on from whatever this is now.”