Dropping my bag on the coffee table I head into the bedroom.
What the hell?
There’s a giant pile of clothes on the bed. Not my clothes.
I pick up a pair of black boxer briefs. What does he think he’s doing?
“Oh, good; you’re home.” My thoughts materialize behind me.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why is your stuff all over my bed?”
“Our bed. I’m moving in.”
I shake my head, sending his words rattling round in my skull. “Come again?”
“Aw, c’mon, Mo. I’ve been staying the night anyway. I want to be with you all the time.”
“No. Not happening.”
He cocks his head, his brow creased. “Why not? Don’t you want to be with me?”
“I’m not ready for this. It’s too soon. And this…whatever it is, well—it’s not likely to last. So, let’s keep it as clean as possible. Besides, what would your parents say? Your moving in is a catastrophe waiting to happen. So, no.”
Danny takes two steps, his body colliding with mine as he walks me backward to the edge of the bed. His hands slide along my jaws, his fingers delving into the hair behind my ears. His lips brush mine. Once. Twice. The third time his tongue slips along the seam between them.
His eyes bore into mine. “What are you scared of, Mo? Don’t want to get too close? Afraid you’ll fall for me? Just let go. Enjoy the rush. I sure as hell have.”
I grab his wrists, hanging on for dear life as he takes possession of my mouth. My mind.
My heart—its thrashing won’t let my lungs take in any air.
His words morph and magnify in my brain as I push him away, gasping and holding my stomach, which has decided to take the nausea from earlier to the next level.
I slap my hand over my mouth and run for the bathroom.
* * *
I rinse with cool water, avoiding Danny’s gaze in the mirror. Bracing myself on the counter, elbows locked, head down, I let the water drip off my face into the sink. “Go away, Danny. I don’t feel so great. I must’ve gotten a bug from one of the kids at the center.”
He snatches a towel off the bar on the wall. “Here.”
“Please. Can we just discuss this later? Take your stuff to your house.” Pushing past him, I crawl onto the couch, folding into a ball, arms crossed over my rolling stomach.
He goes into the kitchen and comes back with a glass. “Want some water?”
I shake my head, breathing through another strong wave of nausea.
* * *
The nausea went away after an hour or so.
Danny did not.
Now, curled in his arms, counting his breaths against my back, I smile. I won’t tell him, but I’m glad he didn’t run off when I tried to shoo him away. And he even stuck around while I puked up my guts into the toilet.
Maybe there’s hope for him after all. Probably no hope with me, but he might eventually make someone a decent boyfriend.
That thought steals my smile. I roll over and bury my face in his chest.
He rubs lazy circles on my back. His kiss finds my crown. “You never mentioned what I said earlier.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked if you were afraid you’d fall for me.”
“Oh, that. Sorry. I was distracted by the vomit shooting into the back of my throat at the time.”
He lets out a huff. “Thanks. Glad to know you were so thrilled when I told you I love you.”
I pull out of his hold and sit up. “You didn’t say that. You don’t love me. Don’t say that. Don’t do that.”
He rolls away and turns on the lamp. “Too late. I just did and I do. And I will. And you can’t stop me.”
I bury my face in my hands, slumping. “No. You don’t. I’m not sure what happened that makes you think you do. But, seriously, don’t go there. I don’t want you to.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” He pushes my knee with his knuckles, grinning. “You aren’t the boss of me.”
I let my legs dangle off the side of the bed. Elbows on knees, chin in my palms, I expel a long, slow breath. “Maybe we should just stop this now. I’m not sure we should see each other anymore.”
His arms come around my waist, pulling me backward. “You don’t mean that, Mo. Tell me you don’t mean that.”
“I can’t fall in love, Danny—not with you.” My heart calls me a liar. My brain agrees. But the walls I’ve built to protect myself, they bump shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, standing their tallest to keep me safe. My spirit huddles in their shadow.
ELEVEN
My phone vibrates as I pull up to the curb. I check the display. Rachel. Sweet.
Ah, crap.
I swipe my finger across the screen. “Hey, you, how’s Africa?”