And now he’s sitting outside my door, trying to make me believe he’s changed.

I wrench open the door again and stomp out. “Why are you here?” The words come out like a plea rather than an accusation.

Reed stands up. He’s wearing a black wifebeater and track pants that ride low on his hips, and his biceps flex when he reaches for me. “You know why.”

The fire in his eyes simultaneously turns me on and fuels my anger. “Don’t touch me.”

He lets his arm drop, and I hate the disappointment that I feel. Get it together, Ella!

“Fine,” he rasps. “You do the touching.”

My eyes widen as he starts tearing off his clothes right there in the hall.

Naked Reed with his rippling chest and his rock hard thighs and that thin line of hair that arrows down to his waistband? No. No. No!

“Put this back on,” I order, throwing his shirt back in his face.

“No.” He snatches it out of the air and tosses it aside.

And then he pulls me against him.

Every inch of him is hard. Every inch.

I expect another hot, frantic make-out, like the one in Savannah’s driveway, but Reed surprises me. His touch is gentle as he skims his fingers over my cheek. His breathing thins, and then those fingers tenderly slide through my hair, angling my head perfectly for his kiss.

It’s the sweetest kiss we’ve ever shared. Slow. Soft. The feather-light brush of his lips, the tentative swirl of his tongue. I can feel him shaking, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s nervous or excited or both.

I scream at myself to move, to push him away. If I call for help, maybe he’ll stop kissing me like I’m the single-most important person in his world.

But I don’t do any of that. My stupid body melts against his. My stupid lips part for him.

Take what he can give you and then send him on his way, a little voice whispers. Use him.

Isn’t that a convenient excuse?

But in the haze of my growing need, I give in a tiny inch and Reed takes full advantage, hoisting me up and carrying me to his bedroom. He kicks his door shut behind him and lowers me onto his mattress.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and I open my eyes to find that his are shining with emotion. “Tell me you missed me too.”

I swallow the words before they can leave my mouth.

The disappointment on his face fades quickly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. You can show me.”

His hand leaves my hair and moves between my legs, and when his fingers curl up, I can’t stop from rocking my hips. He grunts in pleasure against my mouth and rubs that aching spot, making me whimper.

I hate that he still has power over me. I hate that I no longer feel in control over anything. I hate that I’m here. That my mom is gone. That I fell for Reed in the first place.

Tears start trickling out, sliding down to where our mouths meet.

“Are you crying?” Reed abruptly breaks away from me.

I can’t stop myself from gripping him tighter. It’s like some part of me is saying that I’ve had too much loss in my life so I might as well hang on to the scraps Reed Royal is willing to give me.

But I can’t stop crying either. The tears fall, fast and furious. Reed swipes them away, but they keep coming.

“Please stop crying, baby. Please,” he begs.

I try. I hold my breath, but the unshed tears wrack my body with a wave of shudders.

“I’m done. I won’t touch you again. Promise. Ella, you’re killing me.”

He pushes my head against his chest and strokes my hair. It takes more time than I’d like to admit to get myself under control, and all the while Reed is apologizing and repeating his promise to keep away.

This is what I want, I tell myself, but his vow to not touch me again only makes me cry harder.

I finally gather enough composure to push him away. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He gazes back with sad eyes.

I heave myself off the mattress and back away from the bed, gaining some much needed distance. My head grows clearer the farther away from Reed that I get. “We need to leave each other alone. We’re not good for each other.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know what it means.”

He stands and puts his hands on his hips. I avert my eyes from his naked body and perfect face. If he could turn ugly overnight, that would be so helpful.

“So you’re gonna be okay with me hooking up with someone else? Putting my mouth on some other girl. Having her hands all over me.”

I almost barf on the cream carpet. I force myself to breathe through my nose. And lie. “Yes.”

I feel the weight of his stare for what seems like forever. I want to leap after him and beg him to stay, but for my own self-preservation, I keep my head down and my feet firmly rooted.

“No, you won’t,” Reed says quietly. “You’re hurting and pushing me away, but I’m not giving up.”

He walks over to me, and I brace myself. But he only kisses me on the forehead and then leaves me alone in his room.

His last words hang in the air. I slump to the floor and draw my knees tight to my chest. I’m upset he didn’t try to press me. I know I would’ve given in. I’m upset that he’s still swearing to pursue me.

No, that’s not right. I’m upset at myself for feeling the warm glow over his declaration that no matter what I throw at him, he’s going to win me back.

21

I haul myself to my room and manage to fall asleep two hours before the alarm rings for us to get up and go to school. I stick a hand out from the covers and fumble for my phone. Hitting snooze, I peer over to the other side. Val’s half off the bed, one leg stuck out from under the comforter and one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress.

I shake her shoulder. “Time to get up, Sleeping Beauty.”

“No. Don’t wanna,” she mumbles.

“School starts in…” It takes my slow mind a minute to make the calculation “…an hour ten.”

“Wake me up in twenty then.”

I force myself out of bed, grab a bottle of water from my mini fridge, and duck into the bathroom. I blink a few times until the mirror version of me comes into focus.

There’s no evidence on my skin of Reed’s touch. There’s no mark on my neck where his mouth sucked. There’s no outward evidence of my weakness. I press a finger against my lower lip and pretend it’s Reed’s.