Rita
That stupid asshole kisses me.
We were having fun. A little harmless flirting, nothing more.
But he takes it too far and kisses me.
I can’t believe it. He says the exact wrong thing, and he still has the nerve to kiss me. I put both hands on his chest and shove him back as hard as I can. I’m small, he’s big, but I have the element of surprise-and a little leverage from the counter behind me.
He takes a couple steps back, eyes wide.
“You idiot,” I say, shaking my head. All the playfulness is gone now. “There’s only right now? Are you insane?”
His jaw works. “What do you want from me, Rita? I’m moving to Boston. You’re staying here. What else can I do?”
“I don’t know,” I say, frustrating finally hitting its peak. I throw up my hands in disgust.
“You’re the one flirting with me, you know.”
“I’m aware of that. It’s frustrating, okay? I like flirting with you. It feels good.”
God, I’m so beyond confused.
Because I want him to kiss me. I want him to want me. I love flirting with him, I love teasing him, and I love getting teased most of all.
Except, I need to have some self-respect here.
“This isn’t easy for me either,” he says as if that makes a difference. “I’m trying to do what’s best for everyone.”
“Oh, so coming home and telling me how much you missed me is best right now?”
He looks away. “All right, maybe not that.”
“Let’s just call this what it is, okay, Scar? You’re pawning me off on a job.”
“No, that’s not-”
“You knew bringing me to Boston with you would only complicate your little adventure, so when the opportunity to send me away presented itself, you jumped on it. No, I don’t think you searched out the Appalachian Peaks thing on purpose. I believe you when you say Janine mentioned it off-hand, but that doesn’t change what happened. The job’s a consolation prize. A little offering, a way to say, ‘hey, sorry for ditching you, good luck.’ Please don’t pretend otherwise.”
He stares at me, eyes wide. I turn away, storming off. I make it to the edge of the living room before he follows. “You’re wrong,” he says, his voice forceful. “God, you’re so wrong. You think it was easy for me, watching you get that job? You think I wanted any of that? If you had come to me and said you weren’t taking the job and you were coming to Boston, I might’ve tried to talk you out of it at first, but I would’ve been so fucking happy.”
“Then why all this?” I ask, turning to glare at him. “If that’s what you really want, why do you keep pushing me to take the job?”
And why the hell did he have to say that? I would’ve been so fucking happyjust about breaks my damn heart, because that’s what I wanted to do. That’s what I wanted more than anything, but I was too much of a coward.
Instead, I committed to this job, and now I can’t pull out, not without torching my chances at working in the outdoor climbing industry.
“Because it’s what’s best for you,” he says for the hundredth time, sounding exhausted, looking like he’s being dragged down to the floor. As if he knows anything about what’s best for me at all. “I really mean it when I say you taking this job is the best thing for you long-term. The last girl I committed myself to died because I was too damn selfish and lazy to make sure she had her seatbelt on before driving home. What do you think will happen to you? Taking you to Boston would be the same damn mistake, only worse. I’d be doing it on purpose.”
He takes a deep breath and lets it out. I stare at him, and I understand what he’s trying to say, but there’s so much context he’s not taking into consideration.
“We’re not teenagers, Scar. I’m not asleep. I know the risks.”
“I don’t think you do.” He shakes his head slowly. “You saw Orin down the beach. You saw him happy. On my visit, I saw the real Orin, the stressed-out and aggressive crime boss. Now more than ever, I’m sure I made the right choice, pushing you toward that job. He’s dangerous, Rita. They’re all dangerous. I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt.”
“Then why are you coming back here and kissing me? You know what I’m thinking. You have to know-” I stop myself, biting back the words. “You have to know kissing me would only hurt me in the end.”
“You’re right,” he says, speaking quiet and calm. “I shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake, a selfish mistake. I won’t do it again.”
I look away. I cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself. The fucked-up part is, I want him to kiss me. I want him to touch me. Only I know it’ll make things worse.
“I’m staying here,” I say, not able to meet his gaze again. “You’re going to Boston. We can just leave it at that, okay? We don’t have to fight.”
I’m too tired to keep doing this, over and over.
“This isn’t how I wanted things to go.” His voice is throaty and tense.
“Yeah, me neither. You know what’s sick? The girls stopped by while you were gone. Brice and Kat. They came over, kept me company for a night, they even talked about you. Both of them encouraged me to tell you how I feel. But what’s the point, anyway? Why even bother?”
He’s quiet. I don’t know what I want him to say. There’s nothing to say. We’ve already made up our minds, and if I keep doing this, I’ll lose whatever dignity I managed to claw back by pushing him away.
I turn to the hall. “It always ends like this with us, doesn’t it? Me running back to my room.”
Trying not to let him see me cry.
“You don’t have to. I need a shower. I’ll keep out of your way.”
“It’s fine.” I start walking. “This is your place, right, Scar? I’m just visiting for a while.”
I shut the door behind me.