Peter looks up at me. My mouth is open, but I have no words. What am I supposed to say? Your touch makes me crazy? Every time you dab that stuff on me, I tingle in all the wrong places? What the hell is wrong with me?
I jump off the little bench in the bathroom and try to push past him. Peter turns at the last second. Our bodies line up. Ice drips down my spine and I freeze. His pecs are lined up with mine. I can feel him. It sends shivers through me that turn into a throb. My lips part and I gasp, trying to say words that won’t come. I try to move my feet. I try to do anything but stay there and look up into his eyes.
Peter lifts his hands slowly. I feel the heat from his palms just below my elbows. I know he wants to touch me. I know what he’s debating, because the same thoughts are racing through my mind. I know I should I move, but I can’t. My pulse pounds harder, roaring in my ears. I feel his hands nearly touch the bare skin on my arms. Peter’s hands are so close, but they don’t touch me.
I don’t lift my gaze, even though I feel Peter’s eyes burning a path from my eyes to my lips. If I look up, I won’t be able to leave. If I look up, I’ll throw everything away. Throwing away college means going home. It means going back to the people I ran away from. It means seeing the man who used my body over and over again.
My voice is so strained when I speak. “I can’t…”
Peter’s face is so close. He’s lowered his head. I can feel his breath on my lips. My fingers ball at my sides. I stretch my hands and then curl my fingers into fists.
Don’t touch him. Don’t.
“I know,” Peter breathes. I close my eyes and feel the room tip to the side. It’s so hot in here. He’s so close to me. I peel my eyes open again, and stare at his chest. I won’t look up. I can’t look up. “We can’t, but I can’t let you go.”
My eyes flick up. Oh, God. Mistake. Sirens are ringing in my ears. I fall into those twin pools of pure blue and I can’t climb out. I gasp. My lips are right by his. Peter’s hands are still over my arms. Every few moments, his fingers clench shut, as though he’s fighting the urge to touch me. I try to swallow. I try to look down, but I’m so hopelessly tangled in his gaze. I want his hands on me. I want to feel his palms burning on my skin. I want things that I thought I’d never want.
My lips are parted. I try to speak, but nothing comes out. Every breath I take swells inside me, forcing my chest out, making my breasts brush against his chest. I need to stop breathing. My head is swimming with lust. Part of me is begging to be touched, to be kissed. I can’t stop it. I can’t control it. I’m trapped.
Peter’s hands unclench and he closes his eyes. When he opens them again, there’s a hopeless smile on his face. He starts talking, pouring his heart out, every last damaged bit. “I’m never the lucky one. Every time I find someone, she gets ripped away. She’s always out of reach and it’s not like I can change that.
“I can’t get her back. I can’t change things. There are no second chances. I’ve lost everything. I lost Gina.
“I lost myself when she died. I haven’t felt a goddamn thing since then. But then you came along… You’re smart and beautiful. I thought I could move on, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. You were the only person who understood that, and knew what it truly meant.
“And now,” Peter laughs bitterly and presses his eyes closed. When he opens them again, he looks tormented. His voice becomes higher as he speaks. His words come faster, more pained, more panicked. “Now that I’m ready to move on, I can’t. I can’t lose my job. I can’t be with you, but I can’t be without you. God, Sidney. Tonight was one of the best and worst moments of my life. You said you loved me. You love me…” he smiles sadly and shakes his head. “I love you, too. You brought me back to life. You gave me back my smile. You’re everything to me, but I can’t do this to you—”
I stare at him. My eyes are too wide and my mouth is hanging open. What did he say? He can’t mean that. He can’t, but he said it. Peter loves me. But I can’t follow him. There’s so much agony in his voice. I don’t know what he means. “Do what to me?”
“You’re here on scholarship. I know what will happen to me if I go through with this, and I can’t let you throw away your life—”
He loves me. I stare at his eyes, listening to him say it, listening to the reason why he’s frozen, why he’s not touching me. He loves me.
I’m so afraid, so terrified that he’ll push me away, but I do it anyway. For a split second, I’m brave—and stupid, and reckless and impulsive. I cut off his words by slipping my fingers over his stubbled cheeks. I lean in and brush my lips to his. His mouth is sweet and soft.
Peter freezes when I kiss him. His arms don’t wrap around me. He doesn’t kiss me back. My muscles are so tense, so ready to run. I thought he’d hold me. I thought he’d respond.
Shame floods my face. I break the tiny kiss and look down. “I’m sorry,” I say to the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have…” My lower lip is quivering. I try to hold it still, but it won’t cooperate, so I suck my lip into my mouth and bite down.
Before I can say another word, Peter scoops me up into his arms. I yelp and hold on tight. He walks us to the front door and lowers me to the floor. My body slides against his. The hem of my dress slips up shamefully high as I get down and press my feet to the floor. He’s going to throw me out again. My hands are on his chest.
Peter doesn’t step away. I feel his eyes on my face. I can’t let go. He lets out a breath and leans into me. His hands are on my shoulders. He looks at my fingers on his chest. “I can’t tell you to go.”
“Then don’t.”
“I can’t sleep with you.”
“Then we won’t.”
He laughs at that. “You make it sound easy. I can barely think with you touching me like that. You seriously think I have enough self-control not to sleep with you?”
I nod. My fingers are splayed over his chest. I feel all of him, every curve, every muscle. “Your headlights are on.” My thumb rubs over his pec, feeling the taut nipple beneath.
He laughs, and says, “So are yours,” right before my thumb moves over him. He moans and grabs my hand. “Sidney.”
“Peter.”
“You’re too— You don’t know what you’re giving up.” His voice is husky. The muscles in his neck are flexed tight. He keeps clenching his jaw and smashing his lips together.
“I know exactly what I’m giving up. I remember who’s waiting for me at home.” My hands slide down his chest. His abs are so ripped. My finger flicks a button on his shirt, just above his waist.
Peter’s shoulders tense. He lets out a ragged breath. Peter’s hand lifts and brushes my cheek. I lean into the touch and close my eyes. He pulls away from me like I burned him. “Sidney, I can’t do this. I can’t.” Peter pulls at his hair and turns away from me. He paces the floor once, then twice.
When he looks up, I panic. I see it in his eyes. He’s going to push me away. I don’t move. I brace for impact, expecting him to open the door and throw me through it, but he doesn’t. He rushes toward me and places hands on either side of my head. I don’t know what he’s doing. I can’t tell if he’s going to yell or—
I don’t get to finish the thought. Peter leans in. His lips are so close to mine. I feel him resist. That part of him is still fighting it, but he doesn’t back away. Peter closes the space. His lips press lightly to mine. It’s a whisper of a kiss. Peter’s still holding back. His body is all taut muscle. When I lift my hands and try to touch him, Peter jumps and pulls away. His face is scrunched with indecision. His hands fist at his sides. He looks like he wants to hit the wall, and turns away from me.
I’m insane. I walk over to him. I’m behind him. I made up my mind. I can’t do this to him. It’s tearing him apart. I feel the strength I need to walk away. It’s faint, but it’s there. “Peter, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do this to you.”
His face is in his hand. Peter turns around slowly and looks down at me. “I can’t do this to you. I know what you went through to get here. I can’t send you back to the people who did that to you... I can’t let you do it. I love you, Sidney.” His eyes search mine. It feels as though we’re breaking up. Something tightens around my throat. I try to swallow, but I can’t.
“I love you, too, Peter.” I smile at him sadly and turn to leave.
My hand is twisting the knob when he says, “Stay.”
“What?”
“Stay, just a little longer. I can’t let you go, not yet.”
I’m near tears. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t believe I have to walk away from him. Life is so unfair, this is so wrong. I love him and he loves me. The odds are so slim, so miniscule, that a person will find their match. I know he was made for me, and I know I have to leave.
I shake my head. “I can’t. This is an all or nothing kind of deal. I can’t stand being around you and not touching you. You asked me if I’m attracted to you—I am. A lot. Everything about you entices me. Peter, I need to go.” Pressing my lips together, I walk out of his apartment and fly down the steps. I suck in the night air like I’m suffocating. I walk the two blocks to my dorm, alone, thinking.
I’d give up everything for him, but then what? He has no job, I have no money, and we both live in a box.
Love sucks.
CHAPTER 20
I feel hollowed out. Even my skin feels fragile. My fingers drift to my lips. The memory is still there. It’s like I can still feel the pressure of Peter’s mouth, the way he fit perfectly into the seam of my lips.
I can’t see Peter again. That doesn’t really sink in until I’m walking down the street. There’s a good chance that I won’t even be his TA anymore. Strictland will separate us.