All I Want

I press my mouth to her hair as the ache in my back numbs out. “I doubt it. She hated my dad’s tattoos.”

“But yours is different, and the fact that you only eat cookies the way she ate them… Can we go lay down in my bed?”

Fuck no. Is she crazy?

“No.”

She tilts her head up, blinking the tears away. “Just to do this. I promise. I won’t do anything besides what I’m doing now. No more touching than this.”

I set my jaw as I try and come up with at least one reason why this is a bad idea. But every reason, good or bad, escapes me when her full lips mouth a desperate please.

I tilt my head down, staring at the front of the T-shirt she’s wearing. “With clothes on. I know what you normally wear in that bed, and I can’t handle that right now. Okay?”

She steps back, letting her hands fall away from me. “Okay,” she echoes before moving in the direction of the bedroom. Halfway down the hallway, she glances back to make sure I’m following her.

Where the fuck else would I be going?

I wait for the moment to hit me, the sudden clarity that should move my ass away from anything that’ll put Tessa in a horizontal position, but it never comes.

She shoves something into the drawer of her nightstand as I enter the room before tugging at the blue tie in her hair. With her free hand, she motions toward the bed.

I stand there, wondering what the fuck I’m about to do right now. Tessa has always thought what we had was based solely on sex. It never was, not for me, and I’ve spelled that out for her already, but I know how she is when we’re in bed together. There’s never any space between us. Having her touch me in any way makes me crave her, and I’m trying to prove what I texted her earlier wasn’t just some bullshit to get her away from that guy she was with.

She stares at me as her hair falls past her shoulders, waiting.

This is where I need to leave the room, or say I don’t think this is a good idea, or even suggest the fucking couch instead of her bed.

“Please,” she says, taking a step closer. “I’m tired, and I just want to talk, and maybe fall asleep with you. That’s it.”

I look at the bed, then back at her. “I meant what I texted you earlier. I meant every fucking word of it.”

She tucks her hair behind her ear, looking up at me from underneath her lashes, and I catch the slight tremble in her hand before she drops it to her side. “Okay,” she replies in the softest voice I’ve ever heard her use.

I settle on my back in the center of the bed, tucking my hand underneath my pillow to boost myself up.

“Were you really close with her?” she asks as she climbs onto the bed, resting her head on my chest. Her arm wraps around me, then her leg, until I’m completely blanketed by her tiny body.

We don’t need to talk. The only thing I need from her right now is this. She has no idea what this does to me, what this has always done to me.

I look down the length of my body, staring at the top of her head. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I can’t imagine going through that. Losing a parent in any way is so unbelievably sad. It was devastating to Mia, but she at least knew her mom was sick, and there was always that chance something could happen to her. But with you…” She squeezes me harder. “How did you handle it?”

I look up at the ceiling, concentrating on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against my side. It’s crazy how much that soothes me. The feel of her, breathing, living—having her right here like this.

She sniffs, and I know she’s crying again as she nuzzles closer. “Luke?”

I remember her question, shifting my body underneath hers a bit so her leg stops brushing against my cock. “I don’t know. I was forced to handle it, so I did. What else was I gonna do?”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done. And your dad, oh God, was he devastated?” Her head tilts up and she rests her chin on my chest. “He must’ve been heartbroken.”

“I don’t want to talk about him,” I reply, watching her eyes dilate behind the tears in them. “And don’t call him my dad. He stopped being that a long time ago.”

“What happened between you two?”

“Tessa, what the fuck?” I practically shout, startling her. Her hold on me tightens as she sucks in a breath, and I can tell she’s regretting pushing this shit. Her mouth falls open, the tears still spilling down her face. I slide out from underneath her and sit on the edge of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees and dropping my head. I’m no longer calm. I’m fucking tense, anxious like I was sitting outside her door.

The bed dips behind me, but I don’t turn around to look at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, brushing her body against my back.

I cup my hands together and rest my chin against them, staring blankly at the wall. “I don’t talk about shit I don’t give a damn about anymore. Yeah, he was heartbroken and devastated, but while he turned to getting piss-drunk every day, I was left with nobody. I had to deal with that and the shit he put me through alone, and I will always deal with it by myself. It’s my fucking burden, no one else’s.”

She sniffs again, louder this time, as her hands flatten against my chest from behind. “I just… I want to be there for you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. Whatever it is, we can handle it together.”

“Why can’t what I’ve given you be enough?” I ask. I look over my shoulder, connecting with her tear-filled eyes. I’m beginning to feel as shattered as she looks right now, because I know she’ll never be content with just this. But that doesn’t stop me from telling her I will.