I push her into the shower so the warm water is pouring over her, clothes and all. She gasps at the shock of it, and I follow her, closing the glass door behind us before backing her up against the wall. Water cascades over the both of us, smearing her makeup as I brace my hands above her head and… breathe. Well, I try to breathe. It’s more like I’m raggedly blowing air into her face. I can’t catch my breath; I can’t get a bit of oxygen. All I feel is… too fucking much.
“Kolt,” Naomi says softly, in a way that tugs at a part of me I thought had died long ago.
“Don’t,” I say, though I’m more begging at this point.
Begging because I can’t be held responsible for any of my actions tonight. I can’t be held responsible for any future actionsif she keeps looking at me like this, talking to me like this, being like… this.
“It’s okay,” she coos softly, like I’m the one that needs to be talked the fuck down.
Do you believe this girl?
“It’s not!” I argue as my fist slams into the wall beside her head.
She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. Instead, she just nods and says in that same gentle tone, “It’s okay. I’m okay; you’re okay.”
A bitter laugh escapes me as I drop my gaze to the floor, shaking with rage. “Nothing is fucking okay, Peaches. I’ve spent the last six years of my life keeping my distance, making sure you were nowhere near this place. I didn’t want you involved; I still don’t, and yet here you fucking are.” I laugh, though there’s not an ounce of humor in my goddamn tone.
“Then let me go,” she says simply.
“What?” I snarl, whipping my head so I can look into her eyes.
“I won’t tell anyone, ever. You know that. Even if you try to convince yourself I’m a liability, you know I’d never do anything to get you in trouble. So you don’t have to keep me prisoner or… whatever it is you’re doing. You can let me go. You can disappear again. I’ll never see you or hear from you. Things can go back to how they were, if you want.”
She swallows roughly, like her next words are harder to get out.
“All you have to do,” she continues, “is let me go.”
I feel numb. From the top of my head, down to my fingers and toes, and every inch of me in between. Her words float in the air between us, heavy, full of promise. It would be easy to agree. To take her back to her side of town, drop her at her doorstep and never look back.
But I’ve done that. I’ve been there.
And look where it’s left me.
The realization that I’m no longer in charge hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m spiraling. Out of control, out of my goddamn mind. I know there’s no stopping it, though.
Tightening my hands into fists beside her head, I slowly lower my face to hers as my tone takes on a vicious edge.
“No.”
Chapter Sixteen
Naomi
Idon’t have a chance to process Kolter’s one simple word before his lips are on mine. The air is snatched from my lungs, my stomach does a dozen summersaults, and I feel as if my entire body is floating in the air, all at once. Come to think of it, that last part is true—Kolter’s arms are beneath my legs, and he has me lifted into the air, my back pressed against the shower wall as his lips move down my neck.
“Kolt,” I rasp, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He groans like he’s in pain as he tears his mouth away from my skin, pausing when our faces are just a hair’s breadth away from one another.
“You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of you saying my name in that way.”
If it’s at all possible, right in this moment, I love him more now than ever before. Is it love or lust? Maybe it doesn’t have to be an either/or. I’ve loved this man practically my whole life, I’ve wanted him for almost as long, and now… I’m… here. As easy as it would be to overanalyze every detail, every word, every gesture, I push all my thoughts to the side and instead choose to just… feel.
My fingers fist into the back of his hair as I drag him towards me once more. This time, when our mouths meet, I trace the seam of his lips with my tongue before his own tangles around mine. He presses me harder against the wall, freeing one of his hands so it can move all over my body. It’s like we can’t get enough of one another—as if our hands need to double and triple check that this is actually real, that we’re really in front of each other. That this is happening.
I reach for the back of his shirt—now so soaked it’s like a second skin—ball the material into my hands, then begin dragging it up and over his head. He puts some space between us, setting me down for a moment so he can help with the shirt before grabbing the hem of my dress. Then he strips the soggy material off my body and tosses it to the floor, where it lands with a wet slap.
Kolter’s fingers effortlessly release the clasp of my bra then slide the straps down so it falls away. His last target is my panties, though it’s not like they’re covering much. Certainly nothing he hasn’t already seen, though you wouldn’t know it by the way he’s looking at me.