Ugly Love
Page 22

 Colleen Hoover

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Deal, I say. I scoot back against my pillow and spend the next hour preparing notes for chapter three, but I have no idea how I manage to concentrate, because the only thing I can think about is the look that crossed Miless face right before he closed the door. I could tell I hurt him.
That makes us even now, I guess.
After Chad and I exchange notes and answer the study questions at the end of every chapter, I make copies on my printer. I realize three people divvying up three chapters and sharing answers is cheating, but who the hell cares? I never claimed to be perfect.
Once were finished, I walk Chad back out. I can tell hes a little bit nervous after having seen the look on Miless face earlier, so I wait for him to get on the elevator before I close the apartment door. To be honest, I was a little nervous for him, too.
I walk to the kitchen and begin making a plate of leftovers. Theres no point in cooking, since Corbin wont be home until late tonight. Before Im finished adding food to my plate, the front door opens with a knock.
Miles is the only one who opens the door and knocks at the same time.
Calm down.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
Calm the hell down, Tate!
Who was that? Miles asks from behind me.
I dont even turn around. I continue making my plate of food as if his being here after weeks of silence isnt filling me with a storm of emotions. Anger being the most prominent one.
Hes in my class, I say. We were studying.
I can feel the tension rolling off him, and Im not even facing him. For three hours?
I spin around and face him, but the expletives I want to scream get caught in my throat when I see him. Hes standing in the doorway to the kitchen, gripping the door frame over his head. I can tell he hasnt worked in a few days, because his jaw is lined with a thin layer of stubble. Hes barefoot, and his shirt has risen up with his arms, revealing that V.
At first, I stare at him.
Then I yell at him.
If I want to screw a guy in my bedroom for three hours, then good for me! You arent at all entitled to have an opinion about what goes on in my life. Youre a jerk, and you have serious issues, and I dont want to be a part of them anymore.
Im lying. I really do want to be a part of his issues. I want to immerse myself in his issues and become his issues, but Im supposed to be this independent, headstrong girl who doesnt cave just because she likes a guy.
His eyes are narrowed, and his breaths are coming hard and fast. He drops his arms and walks swiftly to me, grabbing my face, forcing me to look up at him.
His eyes are frantic, and knowing that hes scared that Ive moved on feels way too good. He waits several seconds before speaking, allowing his eyes to roam over my face. His thumbs brush lightly across my cheekbones, and his hands feel protective and good, and I absolutely hate that I want them everywhere right now. I dont like who he turns me into.
Are you sleeping with him? he asks, finally resting his eyes on mine as they search for truth.
Thats none of your business, Miles.
No, I say instead.
Have you kissed him?
Still not your business, Miles.
No.
He closes his eyes and exhales, relieved. He drops his hands to the bar on either side of me and lowers his forehead to my shoulder.
He doesnt ask me another question.
Hes hurting, but I dont know what the hell to do about it. Hes the only one who can change things between us, and as far as I know, hes still not willing to do that.
Tate, he says in a pained whisper. His face moves to my neck, and one of his hands grips my waist. Dammit, Tate. His other hand moves to the back of my head as his lips rest against the skin of my neck. What do I do? he whispers. What the f**k do I do?
I squeeze my eyes shut, because the confusion and pain in his voice are unbearable. I shake my head. I shake it because I dont know how to answer a question that I dont even know the meaning behind. I also shake my head because I dont know how to physically push him away.
His lips meet the spot just below my ear, and I want to pull him closer and push him as far away as I can. His mouth continues to move across my skin, and I feel my neck tilting so that he can find even more of me to kiss. His fingers tangle in my hair as he grips the back of my head to hold me still against his mouth.
Make me leave, he says, his voice pleading and warm against my throat. You dont need this. Hes kissing his way up my throat, breaking for breath only when he speaks. I just dont know how to stop wanting you. Tell me to go, and Ill go.
I dont tell him to go. I shake my head. I cant.
I turn my face toward his just as hes worked his way up to my mouth, then I grab his shirt and pull him to me, knowing exactly what Im doing to myself. I know this time wont end any prettier than the other times, but I still want it just as much. If not more.
He pauses and looks me hard in the eyes. I cant give you more than this, he whispers as a warning. I just cant.
I hate him for saying that but respect it just the same.
I respond by pulling him closer until our lips meet. We open our mouths at the exact same time and completely devour each other. Were frantic, pulling at each other, moaning, digging into each others skin.
Sex, I remind myself. Its just sex. Nothing more. Hes not giving me any other part of him.
I can tell myself that all I want, but at the same time, Im taking, taking, taking as much as I can get. Deciphering every sound he makes and every touch, attempting to convince myself that what hes giving me is so much more than what it probably is.
Im a fool.
At least Im a self-aware fool.
I unbutton his jeans, and he unfastens my bra, and before were even in my bedroom, my shirt is off. Our mouths never separate as he shuts my door, then yanks off my bra. He pushes me onto the bed and pulls off my jeans, then stands and removes his own.
Its a race.
Its Miles and me against everything else.
Were racing our consciences, our pride, our respect, the truth. Hes trying to get inside me before any of the rest of that stuff catches up to us.
As soon as hes back on the bed, hes over me, against me, then inside me.
We win.
His mouth finds mine again, but thats all it does. He doesnt kiss me. Our lips touch and our breath collides and our eyes meet, but there isnt a kiss.
What our mouths are doing is so much more than that. With every thrust inside me, his lips slide over mine, and his eyes grow hungrier, but he never once kisses me.
A kiss is so much easier than what were doing. When you kiss, you can close your eyes. You can kiss away the thoughts. You can kiss away the pain, the doubt, the shame. When you close your eyes and kiss, you protect yourself from the vulnerability.
This isnt us protecting ourselves.
This is confrontation. This is a standoff. This is eye-to-eye combat. This is a dare, from me to Miles, from Miles to me. I dare you to try to stop this, were both silently screaming.
His eyes remain focused on mine the entire time as he moves in and out of me. With each thrust, I hear his words from just a few short weeks ago repeat in my head.
Its easy to confuse feelings and emotions for something they arent, especially when eye contact is involved.
I completely understand now. I understand so well I almost wish hed close his eyes, because hes more than likely not feeling what his eyes are showing me right now.
You feel so good, he whispers. The words fall into my mouth, forcing moans out of me in reciprocation. He lowers his right hand between us, placing pressure against me in a way that would normally cause my head to fall backward and my eyes to fall shut.
Not this time. Im not backing down from this confrontation. Especially not when hes staring straight into my eyes, defying his own words.
Even though I refuse to back down, I do let him know I like what hes doing to me. I cant help but let him know that, because I dont have control over my voice right now. Its possessed by a girl who thinks she wants this from him.
Dont stop, my voice says, becoming more possessed by him the longer this continues.
Wasnt planning on it.
He applies more pressure, both inside and outside me. He grabs my leg behind the knee and pulls it up between our chests, finding a slightly different angle to enter me. He holds my leg firmly against his shoulder and somehow thrusts into me even deeper.
Miles. Oh, my God. I moan his name and Gods name and even shout out to Jesus a couple of times. I begin to shudder beneath him, and Im not sure which one of us broke down first, but were kissing now. Were kissing as hard and as deep as his thrusts inside me.
Hes loud. Im louder.
Im shaking. Hes shaking harder.
Hes out of breath. Im inhaling enough for both of us.
He pushes into me one final time and holds me firmly against the mattress with his weight. Tate, he says, moaning my name against my mouth as his body recovers from the tremors. Fuck, Tate. He slowly pulls out of me and presses his cheek against my chest. Holy shit, he breathes. Its so good. This. Us. So f**king good.
I know.
He rolls onto his side and keeps his arm draped across me. We lie together quietly.
Menot wanting to admit that I just let him use me again.
Himnot wanting to admit that it was more than just sex.
Both of us lying to ourselves.
Wheres Corbin? he asks.
Hell be home later tonight.
He lifts his head and looks down at me, his brows furrowed in a line of worry. I should go. He rolls off the bed and pulls his jeans back on. Come over later?
I nod as I stand up and slide into my own jeans. Grab my shirt from the kitchen, I tell him. I pull on my bra and fasten it. He opens my bedroom door, but he doesnt walk out. He pauses in the doorway. Hes looking at someone.
Shit.
I dont have to see him to know that Corbin is standing there. I immediately rush to the door to stop whatevers about to happen. When I hold it open further, Corbin is standing in his doorway across the hall, glaring at Miles.
I make the first move. Corbin, before you say anything
He holds up his hand to shut me up. His eyes drop for a second to my bra, and he winces as if he was hoping that what he heard didnt really happen. He looks away, and I immediately cover myself, embarrassed that he heard everything. He looks back at Miles, and his eyes are an equal mixture of anger and disappointment. How long?
Dont answer that, Miles, I say. I just want him to leave. Corbin has no right to be questioning him like this. Its ridiculous.
A while, Miles says, shamefully.
Corbin nods slowly, letting it sink in. Do you love her?
Miles and I look at each other. He looks back at Corbin as if hes trying to decide which one of us he wants his answer to please.
Im positive the slow shake of his head pleases neither of us.
Are you at least planning to? Corbin asks.
I continue to study Miles as if someone is asking him what the meaning of life is. I think I want his answer to Corbins question more than Corbin does.
Miles exhales and shakes his head again. No, he whispers.
No.
Hes not even planning to love me.
I knew his answer. I expected it. However, it still hurts like hell. The fact that he cant even lie about it to save himself from disappointing Corbin proves that this isnt some game hes playing.
This is Miles. Miles isnt capable of love. Not anymore, anyway.
Corbin grips the frame of his door and presses his forehead against his arm, inhaling a slow, steady breath. He looks back up at Miles with eyes like arrows aimed at a target. In all my life, Ive never seen Corbin this angry.
You just f**ked my sister?
Im waiting for Miles to fall backward from the impact of Corbins words, but he takes a step toward him instead. Corbin, shes a grown woman.
Corbin takes a quick step toward Miles. Get out.
Miles glances back at me, and his eyes are apologetic and full of regret. Im not sure if its for me or for Corbin, but he does what Corbin asks.
He leaves.
Im still standing in my bedroom doorway, looking at Corbin like I could fly across this hall and deck him.
Corbin pierces me with a stare as firm as his stance. Youre not a brother, Tate, he says. Dont you dare tell me Im not allowed to be pissed. He steps back into his bedroom and slams his door.
I blink rapidly, fighting back tears of anger because of Corbin, tears of hurt because of Miles, and tears of shame because of the selfish choices I made for myself. I refuse to cry in front of either of them.
I walk to the kitchen and retrieve my shirt, then pull it over my head as I make my way toward the front door and across the hall. I knock on his door, and Miles opens it immediately. He looks behind me as if he expects Corbin to be standing there, then he steps aside and lets me in.
Hell get over it, I say to him after he closes his door.
I know, he says quietly. But it wont be the same. Miles walks to his living room and sits on his couch, so I follow him and sit down beside him. I dont have any words of advice, because hes right. Things more than likely wont be the same between him and Corbin. I feel shitty that Im the reason for that.
Miles sighs as he pulls my hand to his lap. He threads his fingers through mine. Tate, he says. Im sorry.
I look at him, and his eyes come up and meet mine. For what?
I dont know why Im pretending not to know what hes talking about. I know exactly what hes talking about.
When Corbin asked if I planned on loving you, he says. Im sorry I couldnt say yes. I just didnt want to lie to either of you.
I shake my head. Youve been nothing but honest about what you want from me, Miles. I cant be mad at you for that.
He inhales a deep breath as he stands and begins pacing the living room. I remain on the couch and watch him as he works to gather his thoughts. He eventually pauses and locks his hands behind his head. I had no right to question you about that guy, either. I dont allow you to question me or my life, so I have no right to question yours.