Angie’s hair is all messed up and her forehead is slick with sweat. She's lying beneath me, making the most beautiful sex faces and the sounds of pleasure pouring out of her should be driving me wild.

But I'm just not feeling it this morning. 

I poured my heart out to her last night. I shoved my pride out of the equation and I told her exactly how I feel. I want her back. I let that be known. And I got nothing in return.

She really doesn't want to fix things with me. She made that abundantly clear. And I'm a dude, so I guess I should be okay with the idea that a beautiful woman wants my body and nothing more.

But I can't accept that. This is Angie. I love the woman. I want a future with her. And if she's not open to being with me, that means that what we have going on is temporary. It hurt like hell the first time that things between us fell apart and I know that this time—when she leaves me—it'll destroy me completely.

My erection is only half-hard and my thrusts are less than enthusiastic. Things feel sort of robotic, mechanical. I'm going through the motions. I just can't get my dick in the game.

She notices that something is wrong. "Should I hold my knees to my chest?” she pants breathlessly, wearing a confused expression as she grinds and writhes on the mattress. "Do you want me on my belly?" Rolling over eagerly, she sticks her ass up in the air. She grins at me over her shoulder and wiggles her curvy bottom around playfully. “What—do you want to fuck me in the ass? Don’t be shy. You won’t get it unless you ask."

Usually, I'd be laughing but right now, I don't see the humor in any of it. "Would you put your ass down, please?” I grind out. “Not all men are into butt play."

She turns over again and the beautiful slopes of her breasts are on display for me. "Well, now I'm just starting to question your masculinity." She fakes a scowl.

“This isn’t a joke, Angela.” I rake my fingers through my messed up hair.

She breathes out a frustrated exhale. “What do you want, Ben?”

My eyes fall closed and I run my tongue over my lips. I hate being the guy who can't take a hint but this girl means too much to me. "What I want is for you to stop pretending that this means nothing. What I want is for you to look me in my eyes and tell me that you love me and that you forgive me and that you're giving me another chance."

"Benjamin. Please don't do this." Her soft warm hand comes up to my chest. "We have something good going on—"

My jaw goes tight. "We have some bullshit going on, Angie. And you know it. You remember what it was like between us. You remember the fire. You remember the passion. We were just kids but what we had was real." 

“Don't make this into more than it is. We’ve got unfinished business from all those years ago. We’re tying up loose ends. Isn’t that what we’re doing?” She says the words but even she doesn't seem to buy it.

“You could never be a loose end for me, Gigi.” I cup her cheek in my hand, fighting against the emotion looping around my windpipe.

She shifts away. Her glare narrows sharply on my face. "You seem to forget that you're the one who ended things between us. You devastated me. You gave a bullshit explanation. You pushed me to leave town."

"Things were different back then. I was just a kid."

"That doesn't matter because it took me years to recover. Hell, I'm still scared from that!" She pushes me off of her and rolls to the other side of the bed. "Do you even know why I'm back in Copper Heights?" she asks bitterly.

The question has crossed my mind but I haven't given it much thought. Honestly, I'm just so fucking happy that she's here. I don't really care about the reasons.

Still, the hurt in her eyes tells me that it's something I need to know. "Why are you back in Copper Heights?" I ask softly.

She sits up with her back to the headboard. She hugs her knees to her naked chest. "I got caught having sex with my boss. In a closet. And his wife fired me."

I’m slammed with a hundred emotions at once. I try to rein in my shock, my jealousy, my anger but I'm sure it all comes spilling out across my face. 

Her eyes drop and she looks away. I see the shame there, the remorse. "I never planned on being that kind of person, Ben. I was in love with you. My body was yours and yours alone. But after we broke up, I was so lost and so hurt. I didn't know how to give myself to anyone, how to trust anyone. So, I went with the lowest common denominator. Men who were older, emotionally unavailable, not interested in anything more than sex. Because I couldn't handle anything more than sex. And that shit caught up to me, in the worst possible way. And it fucked up my life. Royally."

Fuck—Seeing her like this, I can't handle it. Knowing that she let those men use her body, men who didn't appreciate her, who didn't see her worth...The worst part is knowing that I'm the reason she went through all of that.  

"So, that's why you're shutting me down," I say softly, as a new level of understanding begins to dawn on me. "It's what you've become accustomed to. Men who treat you like crap...They're idiots, Angie. They don't see your value—"

"Neither did you, once upon a time. And it's great that you claim to have had this wonderful epiphany about me. But how am I supposed to trust what you say? I seem to remember you being head over heels for me at 17 and it still ended up with me on my ass in the cold, alone."

"I'm not the same person anymore." I reach out and tilt her face toward me. "Just look at me. Look into my face. You'll see it."

She stares ahead blankly when she says, "I don't want the same things you want...I'm happy with the way things are between us." Her body language screams the opposite. Her shoulders are hunched in protectively, her back is rigid, she won't maintain eye contact as she speaks.

"You're scared and I get that. I just wish you'd let me show you how much I mean this. It’s not just sex, Angie. I want you. I'm not just your 'fuck buddy'. 'Girlfriend' doesn't capture what you are to me. You're my heart. You're a living entity inside of my chest. This is not just sex."

A shaky breath pours out of her. "It's true. We were perfect together. And you ended things with no warning. And now you expect me to just trust you again. Like magic. That’s not how it works.”

I speak softly. “Tell me how it works then.”

She's quiet for a while, examining my face for a sign that she can trust me. I don't think she finds it. She rolls out of bed and grabs her clothes from the dresser. "We need to stop seeing each other."

My breathing halts. I shiver at the rejection, the feeling cold and heavy as if someone just dumped a bucket of ice into the hollow of my belly. This isn’t what I was expecting. I thought that we were making progress. What the fuck?

She ducks into the bathroom to get dressed. I follow after her.

"Why?" I ask in a cautious tone, keeping a watchful eye on every subtle twitch in her expression.

Because I can’t control what I feel for you. I thought I could but I can't. That’s what her eyes say as I stare at her reflection in the mirror. But different words spill from her lips. "Because all this wasn't part of the plan."

"What wasn't part of the plan?"

She angrily swipes her cosmetics off of the counter and stuffs them into a little cloth pouch. "Breakfast to-go in the morning and little notes on the table by the door and midday text messages to check in. I told you that all I wanted was sex."

"Stop hiding behind the sex, Angela.” My fingers grip the edge of the sink. “Yes—it's amazing. It's explosive. But it's not the only thing that's going on between us and you know it."

“The sex is real. The other stuff isn’t.”

"Did you not hear me say that I love you?" I pull in a breath to get a hold on my frustration.

When I reach for her, she yanks her hand away and takes a step back toward the door. "Where was all this love when I needed it, Ben? Because I sure as shit don't need it today. I'm a fully-formed person now. I don't need you propping me up anymore. When I did, you let me fall. So I don't need you anymore."

Quiet falls over us. A part of me panics that I’ll never get her back, that the girl I loved as a kid is gone and that no matter what I do, I’ll never get her back. The other part of me is a stubborn fucker, though. It refuses to quit. "But do you want me? That's the question."

She gaze drops to the tiled floor. "It's not that simple."

"It really is.” I hate how bitter I sound. I wish that I were better at keeping my emotions under control. But I’m fucking desperate to make her understand once and for all. “I want another chance. Even if I don't deserve it."

She pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes as if to gather her thoughts. Her chest heaves on a resolute inhale. "Look—I don't want this to turn into one of those stories where the guy breaks the girl's heart and thirty years later she's holding that grudge so tight that she can't even entertain the idea that he's changed."

Hope lights up inside of me. "I've changed. I swear to you."

"That’s not enough. I have to keep away from you...not because I want to be a bitch but because I can't allow myself to be the kind of girl who falls apart over the same guy again and again.” Her tone goes caustic and her glare is searing. “You are the only man on the face of this Earth who can demolish me completely. I’ve achieved some great things in my life, academically and professionally. But you are the only man who can make me forget about that, who can make me forget how strong I am, who can make me feel weak and powerless. When I’m with you, I’m happy. But I’m also weak. And vulnerable. You can break me. That’s all I know.”

My words rush out. “You know what, Angie? I can’t come up with a justification for the shitty things I did. I can’t come up with a good enough reason for why you should give me a second chance. I have no logical basis to convince you to give me a place in your life. But sometimes, you just have to listen to your heart. And you have to take that leap. And you have to let love win…”

For one short moment, she hesitates. It’s almost as if I’ve gotten through to her. But then she pulls on her shirt and straightens the hem. Her expression is pure stone. "Goodbye, Ben." She turns on her heel and marches out of the room. The walls shake when she slams the bathroom door behind her.

I really can't get through to her. I'm at a loss for what to say, how to make her understand that my words are genuine. The rejection stings deeply. Defeated, I sink down to the floor, my back pressed against the cold porcelain of the tub. I scrub a hand down my face and rest my head on the arm banded across my knees.

I don’t have a next step all plotted out. I have nothing left to offer her, no arguments left to make. She’s determined to stay behind the safety of her walls and there’s no way for me to penetrate the concrete around her heart.

Maybe I should just give up.

The door creaks as it opens slowly. The chipped red nail polish on her toenails shuffles into my line of vision. My head snaps up and she’s standing there, looking scared and vulnerable but willing. At least a little bit.

She presses her back to the wall and slips slowly to the floor across from me. Tears rim her eyes. She swallows. "You're right, okay. I want you. I wish I didn't but I do.” Her fingers plunge into her hair in frustration. “And I don't know what to do with that feeling."

Her inner conflict plays out across her delicate features. It's hell seeing how deeply I've scarred this beautiful girl. I rough my palm across my forehead. I’m all out of words to tell her how sorry I am. “If I could change what I did..."

"I know you would," she acknowledges softly.

She lifts her glasses from her face and draws her fingertips along the line of her eyelashes to wipe away the tears. It’s killing me not to go to her and put my arms around her and make it all better.

But I wait.

“What do you need from me, Gigi?” My own voice startles me. It’s husky, laden with emotion.

She hums ruefully, shoulders slumping forward when she speaks in a hushed voice. “I need you to not give up on me. I need you to not change your mind even though I’m not ready yet.”

A heavy breath shakes through me. She’s not saying no. She’s not saying never. There’s hope for us. A rush of relief nearly has me dizzy. "Come 'ere," I tell her with arms outstretched for her.

A little smile stretches her lips and she crawls across the tile floor to me and nestles in my arms. Her face burrows against my raging heart. She blows out a controlled breath and traces my tattoo with her fingers.

“I can’t believe that you remembered,” she whispers against my skin. “I can’t believe that you got her tattooed on your arm!”

“Of course I did…Electra meant a lot to you. To us. Every day, I look at this tattoo and I think about you...”

"I was pretty sure you'd forgotten me. I mean, judging from the way you ended things."

"I was a jerk," I say.

"You wanted to be a star..." she retorts.

My insides ache to correct her, to tell her that she’s all wrong about my motives. But I know that revealing the truth would open up a whole new set of issues. So instead, I press my lips to her hair and whisper, "I'm so sorry, Angela. I'll never be able to tell you just how much."

She’s quiet for a while, almost as if she’s trying to let my apology sink in. Then she smiles against my chest and says, “Is it weird that we’re together on your bathroom floor at the crack of dawn having a Kumbaya moment?”

Lifting her face up to mine, I put little kisses on her wet eyelashes. “No, it's not weird. It’s us, Gigi. You belong wherever I am. Even if it’s on the bathroom floor at the crack of dawn having a Kumbaya moment.” My kisses move to her soft mouth. One taste of her sweetness and I want to lose myself inside of her. “But I’m going to take you into the bedroom now,” I whisper against the shell of her ear.

She smiles mischievously. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I wasn’t finished making you come.”

She throws her head back and her giggles fill the air. I wrap my arms tighter around her and carry her to my bed, unsure of what the future holds but living fully in the present.