"I missed you so much," I murmur into her soft hair, my voice thick with emotion. She tightens her grip at my words and doesn't seem to think twice about her reply.
"I missed you too. So much." Her sweet breath feathers across my neck and her soft curves relax into me, eliciting an internal groan. We stand this way for several minutes, neither of us wanting to let go.
So many things are being said during our period of silence...so many emotions are being conveyed in our tight embrace. Pain. Regret. Acceptance. Relief. Comfort. Happiness.
Closing my eyes tightly, I fight to take it all in. I've held Harley several times throughout our lives, but this is different. We aren't just holding onto each other, we're letting go of the past, accepting the present, and opening ourselves up for the future. I just wish I knew what the future holds for us. Did I already miss my opportunity?
Her grip loosens. Her soft hands slide up my shoulders and she cradles my neck between her palms. Our bodies are still flush against each other, and the placement of her hands causes a level of intimacy that I hadn't expected. She lifts her face from my neck and I feel empty at the loss of her warm breath against my skin. Pulling my head from her hair, I rest my forehead against hers, trying to drag this out for a few more minutes. I've waited five years to hold her in my arms, and although I was hoping to be holding her as my girlfriend and not my friend, I'm still not ready to let her go.
Her head dips, our noses brush together lightly, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. I can't explain it, but in that moment, something shifts. The air surrounding us feels warm and thick, causing me to lose my breath. Her once soft touch seems to be producing some sort of electricity that makes me want to push her away and pull her in closer, all at the same time. When she lets out a breath, the faint smell of Amaretto drifts across my face and I can't help but wish that we hadn’t had those drinks tonight. I need to know that every move on her part is completely intentional and not driven by alcohol-induced courage.
Fuck me. This woman is going to be the death of me.
It's hard enough to hold myself back after feeling her soft, warm body against mine, but when her mouth is this close to mine, it's nearly impossible. I need to pull back and break the connection. Our friendly, emotional hug is quickly turning into a not-so-innocent embrace that I need to stop before my heart digs in deeper than it already is...and before she does something that she'll regret.
Her sweet breath feels warmer against my face when she dips her head a bit more, causing her top lip to rest lightly against mine. I lift my eyes to her face, but her eyes are closed and her breathing is now shallow and ragged.
What is she doing?
What am I doing? I can't let this happen.
One name pops into my head. Max.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have to reach up and grip her wrists in my hands. I don't pull my head back quite yet—one thing at a time.
"We can't do this," I whisper softly against her mouth, screaming at myself to pull the fuck back.
She sucks in a breath and holds it as her body stiffens against mine. She releases her grip from my neck and steps back quickly like my words just slapped her. The look of surprise and embarrassment that flashes across her beautiful face is like a punch to the gut.
Why is she surprised?
She was about to kiss me...how did she expect me to react? She has a boyfriend, for Christ’s sake.
A battle ensues—my heart begging to pull her back to me, and my head telling me I did the right thing. Even though I’d like to tell my head to fuck off, I know what would happen if I allow her to kiss me. One of us is going to end up hurt and it’s going to be me.
She lifts a shaky hand to her mouth and rubs it lightly with her fingertips.
Maybe I made the wrong decision? I would never come in between a relationship, but fuck me, I would totally do it for a shot with Harley.
She stumbles back, her gaze bouncing around, landing on everything but my face. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, attempting to stop the quiver that I'd already noticed in her chin. My heart rate increases and a nervous feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as my mind searches for something to say.
What did I do? Why won't she look at me? I was doing the right thing. Right? We
can't go backward...we just can’t. I need her.
"I...I'm so sorry,” she whispers. I don't miss the cracking of her voice and my body reacts. I reach my hands out to her cautiously.
"Harley, please—” Before I can finish what I was going to say, she manages to unlock her front door and slip inside with one last ‘I'm so sorry’ before the door shuts in my face.
What the hell was that?
I stare at her front door for several minutes, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. It doesn't take long to come to the conclusion that I'm a fucking idiot. The woman I've thought about and dreamt about for the past five years was going to kiss me and I stopped her—I fucking stopped her.
I fight with myself momentarily. I consider pounding on her door until she opens it and then making her sit down and talk about what the hell just happened, but I know that's not what she needs right now. It's evident that she did not expect me to pull away, and that alone leaves me even more confused. Did she want me to kiss her?
I walk slowly to the end of her sidewalk and turn around in time to see her front porch light switch off. Something inside of me breaks, shattering into a million little pieces. Taking a deep breath, I turn around and head home. Right now, I need hot shower and a beer, and then I need to sit down and figure out how to fix whatever the hell I just messed up.
"HELL.