I hopped out of my bed like someone had just tossed a bucket of ice water on me. Thankfully, Kiera didn’t move when I ripped my arm away from her. I guess she was really out of it.
I loved her? Loved. As in, I couldn’t live without her, and I didn’t want anybody else? Crap, that felt so right. But I couldn’t actually be in love with her. Could I?
Fuck.
Stopping my incessant pacing, I turned to stare at Kiera on my bed. She looked so good sprawled over my sheets. I could feel myself starting to get aroused again just watching her. God, what I wouldn’t give to slide back into bed with her. I’d wrap my arms around her and gently kiss her awake. I would give anything to have sex with her again. But sober. I’d take my time. I’d cherish every inch of her body. I’d…make love to her. God, that sounded weird, even in my own head. I wasn’t even sure what that meant? Make love? It was all the same act. It was all the same moves. Sex was sex, so what was the difference? And why did phrasing it that way make my stomach tighten so much I felt like I was permanently messing up my insides?
Because you’re in love with her, you idiot.
The moonlight filtering in through the window highlighted the ridge along her lower back. God, I loved that ridge. There was something about that spot that was insanely erotic to me. The way the light hit her skin, accentuating one area, darkening others…it was almost like the moon was caressing her. It made me jealous. I was actually freaking jealous of the freaking moon. I needed to get out of here so I could get a fucking grip.
Turning from her, I stormed over to my dresser. I tore open the top drawer and grabbed some clean boxers. After putting them on, I shut the drawer a little harder than necessary. I glanced back at Kiera, but she was still out. Why am I so angry?
Because you love her, and you’re not good enough for her. She’ll never love you, and you know it. You’ve been unlovable from the start.
Swallowing, I turned away and rummaged through another drawer to find some jeans. Yes, all of that was true, but…maybe I could convince her to give me a chance? She didn’t have to love me in return, but maybe she could…really like me or something? Maybe we could try to have a relationship? I knew her heart was still with Denny, obviously, since they’d just broken up, but if I told her I loved her…maybe…maybe she’d at least try me out for a while. And a while with her would be better than nothing. I almost couldn’t believe Denny was really gone, that he’d actually chosen his job over her.
Zipping up my pants, I stared at her with unabashed longing. She was alone. Wouldn’t being with me be better than being alone? No…she might prefer being alone to me. I wasn’t exactly the easiest person to care about. But if I said I loved her and I only wanted to be with her, maybe she’d feel comfortable enough with me to say okay.
Irritated, I turned back around to find a shirt. All right, so how the fuck did I go about doing that without sounding like a complete and total fucktard? How the hell did I tell her I loved her? I could barely even think the words. Anger crept over me again as I yanked a T-shirt over my head. I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to be open and honest. I didn’t know how to let her in. I could give myself to hundreds of girls, a different one every night, and that didn’t bother me in the slightest. But actually opening myself up to her…scared the living shit out of me.
I had to get out of here. I couldn’t think straight with her in the same room. Fuck, I couldn’t think with her in the same house. I slipped on my shoes and trudged out of my bedroom. Kiera’s clothes were strewn everywhere. The house was suffocating me. I needed air. Snatching my keys off the kitchen counter, I paused to stare at the evidence of our rendezvous…my shirt on the floor, an empty bottle of wine, spilled tequila, used lime wedges, empty glasses. So much had changed in so little time.
I could almost hear Kiera’s moans of ecstasy as I stared into the room that had started it all. Turning, I got out of there as quickly as I could. I’d clean it up later, when I came back to tell Kiera what she meant to me. I’d clean it all up later. I’d fix this, somehow.
Fleeing from the house, I sprinted to my car. Crawling inside, I took a deep, cleansing breath. I knew I was being a coward, and I should march myself back inside and back into bed with the woman I loved, but fuck, even thinking it made my skin itch. I couldn’t really love her, could I? And could she love me? Was I brave enough to find out?
As I watched the house for signs of movement, I started my car. Nothing happened when I revved the engine. She was probably still sleeping, or more accurately, she was passed out. I should stay and make sure she was okay. She drank a lot really fast; she might be sick when she came around.