You Make Me (Blurred Lines #1)(20)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Not until spring.”

Relief made me sigh, shoulders dropping. “Then what?”

“Going back to Vinalhaven. I’m going to work for Reggie. Eventually get my own boat.”

Reggie was his former boss. So Heath was going home to be a lobster fisherman. It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. But he had never felt the same way about the island that I did, like he needed to leave and prove something. “Wow. That’s great, Heath. I’m happy for you.” I meant that, sincerely.

If we couldn’t be together, somehow it helped to picture him home, on a boat.

“That’s a goodbye,” he accused. “A dismissal.”

I wasn’t sure if it was or not. Maybe it was protective. Like I knew he was leaving and that would be it for us. It was already it for us, but as long as he was close by I could pretend. Indulge in seeing him. Like eating cookies in the dark until they’re all gone. “Not a dismissal. But I don’t plan on going back.”

“I don’t get that. You loved growing up on the island. You loved the freedom.”

I couldn’t deny that. I had definitely loved being barefoot in summer, bundled up in winter, away from prying eyes, out on my own, throwing sticks and climbing rocks. “I was a tomboy, wasn’t I?”

He gave me a smile. “Nothing boyish about you at all. But you were free spirited.”

A shiver made me jerk a little, but it was from the wind. That’s what I told myself. I started walking again. “It’s cold tonight, we should keep moving.”

It was an obvious change of subject. He didn’t let me do it.

“Why do you want to force yourself into a town, into a job, into a life that’s nothing like who you are?”

There was a niggle of fear in the back of my mind that he was right, but it was the smarter thing to do. Jobs were scare back home, rentals hard to come by. Plus everyone knew me in Vinalhaven, good and bad. Not to mention Ethan would never concede to live where he’d have to take a ferry to get to work. “What would I do back there? There’s no point in getting a degree if I’m going to just go home.” It wasn’t an exact answer to his question, but it was a truthful response.

“Then yes, it’s goodbye.”

Everything in me screamed no. That wasn’t how this could end. It was so unsatisfying after everything. It was so… muted.

“Do you love me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

The question felt more important than anything else.

I had to hear him say it loud. Just one last time. To hold to me forever.

Chapter Eight

I wasn’t even sure why I said it. I knew it wasn’t fair to ask. I knew that I was only hurting him and myself. He’d already admitted he’d come back to see me.

He reared back, burying his hands in his hair. “Fuck. Don’t do this to me. Seriously. Don’t. You know I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I was sniffling, and his face blurred in front of me from my tears.

“But you’re not in love with me enough. Or if you are, you’re not willing to risk your perfect world for me.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks. “It’s not that simple.”

“Everything is simple.” His tone was angry. “You either want to be with me or you don’t and I’m not stupid enough to stick around and watch you marry what’s-his-nut while you keep me in your world with some lame ass friendship. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

He was right. I knew he was right. So I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say.

“Go home.” He pointed towards the sorority house. “Just go home and leave me the f**k alone.”

A sob was wrenched from me. But I turned, blindly, and started walking, ashamed of my need, embarrassed that I still wanted him so much.

He swore. “Goddamn it.”

I felt him grab at my elbow and I shook him off.

“Wait. Cat. Wait.”

Unable to face him, I started walking faster, almost jogging.

“Come on, don’t!” He grabbed again, harder this time, and yanked me to a halt.

“Let me go!” I smacked at him, feeling the closest to hysterical that I had since my father had died.

But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled me up against his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I stood there, wooden, turning my face so he wouldn’t see how pathetically needy I felt. “You’re an ass**le,” I said vehemently to his sweatshirt. “You came back after hiding from me for four years and now you’re acting like this is my fault.”

“Hiding from you?”

“Yes. Hiding. You ran away. And it f**king hurt then and it hurts now.”

He no longer sounded angry. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” His lips brushed over my hair and I shuddered. “I can’t go back and be eighteen again. I can’t stand up and fight for you. I can’t leave you a romantic note or sneak into your room and ask you to wait for me. This is where we’re at and it sucks.”

“It does.” My tears had stopped and I relaxed a little in his hold. It felt good to be so close to him. Familiar and comforting.

“Do you want me to fight for you?” he asked, his voice seductive, coaxing. “Is that what you want?”

Longing rose up in me, and my body tingled in ways it had no business doing. I was playing with more than fire. I was playing with an atomic bomb. It was dangerous to do this, to be with him like this, to encourage him in any way.

I knew all of that. Yet I still said, “Yes.”

I was the Cat of the island, unchecked and impulsive again.

He was right. I wanted my cake and to eat it too.

It made me hate myself.

This time when I pulled away, he let me go.

His eyes were dark, stormy. “Then that’s what I’m going to do.”

I shook my head, feeling desperate. If he did that, I wouldn’t be able to resist him. “That was a bitchy thing for me to say. I’m not asking you to jump over hurdles for me. It’s wrong. I’m wrong.”

But he just stared me down. “No. You’re being honest and that’s what I want. That’s what I need to hear. To know. Now you really should go back before someone sees us.”

He was right. “Okay.” I had to walk away without saying anything else. I had no business asking him for anything. Yet I still stood there. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I’ll watch and make sure you get in safely.” His thumb brushed over my lip and it felt as intimate as a kiss.