Shame Me Not - Page 42

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I was swirling in a pit of anger, thinking about all the times he didn’t take the chance to see me. And the only times he had seen me was when I bent to meet his schedule. The burn behind my eyes matched the ache in my chest, and I blinked to hold back tears.

The slam of a car door pulled me out of my pit of despair, and I rushed to the window to see Kevin walking toward his house. Fueled by the adrenaline from my anger, I raced out the front door. Any awkwardness from the past couple of days was erased as I ran toward my friend. He turned to see me just in time as I barreled into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.

When his arms returned the hug, I broke. I broke because all day, I thought I’d lost this kind of comfort. I broke from the stress of my dad’s request. I broke because I was back in the haven of Kevin’s arms.

“Hey, hey.” He held my shuddering shoulders tightly, doing his best to hold me together. “Ana, talk to me. What happened?”

“I just need you,” I muttered into his chest.

Kevin didn’t hesitate. “Okay. I’m here. Come on, let’s head upstairs.” He held my hand as we made our way to the bonus room and sat on the couch. “Talk to me,” he said, pushing my hair back and wiping my wet cheeks.

I stared at him, taking a deep breath. “My dad wants me to go to college at Vanderbilt. Or at least apply.” His jaw clenched, because he understood how much that request would set me off. “I don’t want to go, Kevin.”

He was quiet as he processed and formulated a response. Finally, he came back with the most simple and perfect response. One I’d missed in my anger. Too simple to even think about under pressure. “Then don’t go. Apply to make him happy, but don’t go. You don’t owe him anything.”

“I know. I just hate that he even asked.”

“Is that all? You fell apart here, and it takes a lot for you to do that. What’s going on?”

That was my opportunity to talk about what had happened and now that I had the chance, I froze. What does one say to their friend who they’d slept with and shared dark desires with and didn’t know where they would go from there?

I tried to keep it simple.

“Are we okay?” I whispered not looking at him.

He stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Today felt off.” After that, the dam broke and words came pouring out. “We hadn’t talked all weekend and then in school it was weird, and I was jealous of the way Jane flirted with you and then I thought you were avoiding me, and then I started panicking that I’d lost you as my friend—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Ana, slow down.” His hands moved up and down my arms, soothing me. “You’ll never lose me as a friend. I’m sorry things were weird today. I just kind of shut down. I know we haven’t talked about it, but I freaked, and I started getting scared that you would tell me I was crazy, and I hesitated to call you because I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want you to tell me we weren’t friends anymore. That after having time to think about it, you’d tell me I’d scared you.”

We both laughed at our similar confessions. “At least we both know we don’t want to lose each other’s friendship,” I said.

“Yeah. I guess sex really complicates things.”

“Yeah,” I answered lamely. We sat there, letting that sink in. He held my hands between us, and I watched the way his thumbs moved along the backs of my knuckles. Thinking the day through, I came to a conclusion that scared me to say aloud.

“Kevin-”

“Ana-”

We laughed again, and I encouraged him to go first.

His palms squeezed mine. “Maybe we make our friendship the most important thing. And we put everything else to the side.” His words were slow and hesitant.

And exactly what I was going to say.

Even so, it didn’t lessen the gut reaction to hold on to what we’d found in each other. Even when I knew it was for the best for our friendship, I still hated the idea of never having it again. Even when I didn’t want to repeat the doubt of today, it hurt.

But I set it aside and nodded, agreeing with him.

“I loved everything about Friday. Everything. Especially because it was with you,” he said.

“Me too.”

“But maybe . . . maybe we don’t do it again because I’m too damn scared it will fuck up our friendship.” He swallowed. “And, Ana . . . I can’t lose you.”

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