Page 68 of Deny Me

Twenty-Nine

It tookthree days to build up the courage to go to King’s. A million possibilities ran through my mind. Maybe I could’ve shown up on a busy night and maybe he would come to talk to me. Maybe I could’ve texted him again. But then I remembered how horribly that went the last time and vetoed that option. In the end, I knew we needed time alone to talk. I was too scared to go to his apartment in fear he would slam the door in my face. But at King’s I knew he wouldn’t be able to leave or shut me out.

Comfort in the familiarity of opening the heavy wooden door settled around me and gave me strength. Walking in, I scanned the dimly lit bar for Jameson and came up empty. The place was quiet except for the thump of my sandals against the floor and faint music coming from the back hallway. I was struck with a memory of three years ago where we’d begun. When our relationship took the first dive into something sexual.

My skin tingled with excitement as I walked closer to the music coming out of the storage closet. Leaning my shoulder against the door, I watched him squatting over boxes, counting bottles. His thick muscles flexed under his simple t-shirt when he lifted one.

Remembering my words, I repeated them. “Ow-ow. Flex those muscles, baby.” Instead of the playfulness they were said with before, they were wrapped up in sorrow and the beginning of my apology.

His head snapped around, his eyes scanned my body. He took in the way my leg stuck out from the high slit in my maxi skirt and the low-cut spaghetti strap top barely holding my breasts in. Was I using every tool in my arsenal that I had? Hell yes, I was. He stood, and instead of brushing past me, he just watched.

I took him in too, the way his shoulders slumped with defeat and dark circles rimmed his eyes. His usual scruff had expanded to a full beard. It hurt my heart, knowing I’d made this proud, infallible man look so tired and beaten. I swallowed the tears building in the back of my throat and fought the way my body ached to move into his arms.

In those moments of silence, a million words ran through my head. My heart raced a million beats per minute as I tried to formulate the perfect joke to bring us back to us. But we were no longer the same people who’d stood in that same spot all those years ago. We were Jameson and Evelyn. We knew each other on a whole new level. The man before me was the man I loved. I loved him. I ached with my need for him.

So instead of something sassy, like he probably expected, I kept it simple. “I’m so sorry.”

When his face remained impassive, fear pierced my chest. I wanted to turn and run, but I was no runner. Not even from love; not anymore.

The tears began burning the back of my eyes and building on the edge, preparing to fall. “I miss you,” I choked out. My limbs shook along with my chest from my erratic breathing. When the first tear fell, I gave in and let them all fall. “I love you.” I hated that standing before him, crying, was the first time he heard me say the words. But he needed to know, and I didn’t know what else to give him.

His face flinched and his jaw clenched. I didn’t know if my words hurt him, but they were all I had, and I kept saying them as I fell apart. It was my own way of pleading for forgiveness. It was my own begging just for him. “I’m so sorry. So sorry.” I sobbed. “I’m sorry. I love you. I love you, Jameson King. I miss you.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to regain some composure. He hadn’t moved, and I was crumbling in defeat. I needed to calm down enough to get the strength to walk out of there without him. Of all the scenarios, this wasn’t one I had imagined. Once my eyes closed, my shoulders crumpled in and I wrapped my arms around myself. I’d fucked up too much.

Then two strong arms wrapped around me. Lips pressed to the crown of my head, moving down to my ear, whispering, “Shhhh. Shhh. It’s okay, beautiful. It’s okay.”

Immediately my arms shot out and shamelessly clung to him. He may have only been holding me out of pity, but I wasn’t letting go. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Shhh,” he repeated. He placed his palms on my cheeks and made me look up at him. His midnight eyes were red-rimmed and glinted with a spark I thought I’d never see again. “I know. I know you’re sorry. I know you were scared.” Biting my lip, more tears tracked down to my ears. He brushed them away with his thumbs and leaned down to press his lips to mine gently. “I forgive you,” his whispered words brushed across my mouth, and if he wasn’t holding me, I would’ve crumbled against the wall in relief at hearing those words.

“Thank you.”

Another kiss before he pulled back to penetrate me with his stare. “Evelyn. Don’t thank me. I love you. I will always forgive you because I love you. I know you’re new to this. But in relationships we make mistakes. Some big, some small. But if you love a person, you always find a way to make it work.”

“I love you too,” I responded to the most important part. Standing on my toes, I reached up to place another kiss. This one longer and filled with all the passion I’d been missing since I was last in his arms. “I’m going to mess up, Jameson. I’m so scared of getting hurt. But I want to try. With you.”

“Evelyn,” he chuckled. “You know me better than almost anyone. You know I’m going to fuck up. You just have to promise to not run scared and try to forgive me.”

“Okay. Just keep kissing me.”

He pressed his lips back onto mine and shifted me to the wall, burrowing his hands in my loose hair. The kiss turned from forgiving to fierce. Our lips parted and tongues brushed together. I dragged my nails down his back, moving to grip his ass, pulling him into me. His erection pressed into my stomach and a whole new fire lit inside me.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, pleading. “Finish what you started the last time we were in here.”

He leaned in and roughly bit down my neck. “God, that night has haunted me forever. It was bad enough before that, imagining what your tits felt like pressed against me. But knowing ruined all other women. You’ve ruined me.”

“Good.” I began working on his belt buckle.

“I do have some residual anger to take out on you for bringing that pussy into my bar.”

“Oh yeah?” I leaned back, moving my panties down my legs. “Take it out on me, Jamie-Boy.”

With a growl, he hoisted me up the wall and pushed inside with one forceful shove.

“I love you,” I gasped into his ear.

This man had challenged me and denied me. I’d pushed back and denied him just as hard. But wrapped in his arms, feeling him loving me harder than any waste of man before, I knew we were done with the denial.

Well, of course, I could always tease and taunt him with my body. But that was me and Jameson and I hoped those kinds of games never changed.

The End