Page 70 of The Downside of Love
Fuck.
I crossed that line . . . again, but this time, I went too goddamn far.
Feeling like a giant jackass, I back away, off the bed, spinning away from her, gripping the back of my head with both hands. I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut.
There is no way I can fucking stay here. Not after what just happened. I shouldn’t have stayed here in the first place. This is Colby’s girl, not mine. She’s never belonged to me; she’s only been a fictional thought in my head.
A what if. . .
What if I went after her?
What if I didn’t step aside when I saw Colby’s eyes on her?
What if I fucking fought for her?
Chest constricting, heart beating at a dangerous rate, I make my way to my duffel bag and start stuffing it. I need to get the fuck out of here. I can’t stay the night, not with her a few feet away, breathing in the same air as me. It’s too dangerous.
I’m too dangerous around her, willing to push her to her limits.
Hugging.
Holding her hand.
Stroking her soft skin.
It’s all too much. I went too far and fucked everything up.
It’s what I’m good at. I fuck everything up. I’ll just tack it onto the list.
Desperate, I leave my toothbrush in the bathroom and zip up my bag. I’ll get a hotel room for the night and figure out what to do after that. I have enough saved up now where I can find a place somewhere. I might not have furniture, but I’ll at least be as far away from Rory as I can be, not corrupting her, not forcing myself into her arms.Into her bed.
Slinging the duffel over my shoulder, I lean down to get my boots when I hear Rory’s bed creak through the silent night.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice worried.
Not even bothering to look at her, I say, “I have to get out of here.”
“Stryder.”
I shake my head. “No. I need to fucking leave.” I pocket my phone and make my way toward the front door where I snag my hat, jacket, and keys. Reaching for the door, I’m stopped by Rory’s body, blocking my way out, leaning against the door.
“You can’t leave.”
Gritting out, I say, “I have to fucking leave. There is no choice in the matter. Move, Rory.”
“No.”
Exhaling heavily, I try not to get angry, but it’s hard because I’m fucking embarrassed. I’m mad at myself, and I’m so goddamn in love this woman that I hate every damn breath I take . . . because I can’t be with her.
Shoulders proud, a determined look on her face, she’s not backing down.
“Rory, I’m not kidding. Move.”
“Neither am I.”
Growing angrier by the second, I say, “Move out of the way.”
“No. I’m not letting you walk out that door when . . .”
