A Touch Of Sin [BxB] - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"Where did you go?"
"Hmm?" I ask distractedly as I yank my shirt off.
"When you left the party," Jake mutters with a frown. "With that guy."
"Oh, just around," I shrug.
"Did anything happen?"
I shrug again. "Not really."
"Not really?" he echoes, folding his arms across his chest. "Define 'not really'."
"I'm tired," I sigh, kicking off my shoes. "I don't feel like doing this right now."
"Doing what?"
"This!" I exclaim in exasperation, throwing my hands up. "This exhausting back and forth. No matter what I say or do you're going to be an asshole to me tomorrow or when we're back around other people. But I can't move on because you stalk me or will beat the person up. It's just an endless circle of bullshit with you!" An enraged growl tears from my throat and I spin, throwing my fist into my mattress. "I'm over it."
"I'm trying!" Jake hisses, storming over to me and yanking me upright. My chest is rising and my breath falling out of my mouth. "This is me showing you that I want you."
"Try a bit fucking harder," I snap back.
His hands wrap around the back of my head and pulls me to him. I slam my hand out and hit his chest with a loud thud. Jake's breath catches in his throat as he stumbles back in surprise.
"No," I growl. "Don't."
Ignoring me, like usual, he tries to grab me again. This time, my elbow strikes out, connecting with his nose.
"Argh!" He cries out and falls back into the wall.
Blood spurts down his face. My body is trembling as we glare at each other.
"Don't," I warn when his hands curl into fists. "You can't want me when it's convenient for you and you can't get angry when someone else shows interest. I'm not your property. You do not own me."
"It's not that easy!"
"Yes, it is!" I argue back. "If you want to be with me, then be with me. Who cares about what anyone else thinks?"
"You know it's not that easy. Everyone will judge us."
"And?" I press. "Let them."
"Easy for you to say when it's just us here. You haven't come out either, remember?" he wipes at his face, smearing the blood across his cheeks.
"I would go back to the party right now and kiss you in front of everyone if it meant us finally being together."
His lips part in surprise. His body is completely frozen. Our stare is completely charged with tension, before he lets out a disbelieving laugh.
"Yeah, I doubt that."
"You know I would do that for you."
"Why can't this just stay between us?" he demands, striding towards me once more. "Why does it need to become this big moment? Can't it just be us? Because that's all that matters."
"I don't want to be a secret, Jake. I want people to know I'm with you. I want to be able to hold your hand in public. I want you to come to family events with me."
"But why?" he exhales, throwing his unbloodied hand through his hair. "Why does it have to be like that?"
"Because that's fucking normal!" I yell. "That's normal, okay? And it's what I want."
"Well, you're not going to get it!" he yells just as frustrated back.
"Yeah, I know that! That's why I'm moving on!"
Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes, which only makes me about ten times angrier. "Yeah? With number fucking nine? Have fun with that."
"I will," I snap back. "We're going out during the week."
"And if you think –" he continues, pacing in front of me, before he stops. "What?"
"Yeah," I jut my chin out, satisfied that I've finally snagged his attention. "There are people out there who want what I want, Jake. I'm not waiting around for you anymore."
"You're going out with him?" his voice is small.
"Yes."
"So, what, you think he's attractive?" He's standing completely still now, his wide eyes on me.
"Yes."
"More attractive than me?"
No one is more attractive than you to me, Jake.
I sigh. "Don't do that, Jake. Just go."
"I don't want to go."
"Then what do you want?" I groan, falling onto the mattress.
"You."
"That's not good enough," I hang my head.
"Why?" he whispers, dropping to his knees in front of me.
He collects his hands in mine. Mine soft and smooth, his hard and bloodied. His thumb strokes mine. He scoops his finger under my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.
"I can't keep explaining this to you, Jake. You're not stupid. You understand what I'm saying. You've made yourself clear – you don't want to be together."
"But I do!"
"No, you really don't." A God-damn tear slides down my cheek. "Because you would do everything you can to be with me, J. You're not even trying."
He looks like I've hit him again. I guess I have, just not physically this time. I pull my hands from his and stand, turning my back to him. I wipe at my face, feeling drained and exhausted.
"Just go. I can't do this anymore."
"I can't leave like this, Cal," he whispers. "I can't have you hate me."
I turn to him once more. "Pretty obvious I don't hate you, J. It's why we're in this mess."
"J," he murmurs with a smile. "I like that."
I clench my jaw and stare at the wall. Another tear. Great.
Jake walks to me. Slowly. Cautiously. He cradles my face in his hands. His thumb wipes the tear away. He leans in and kisses me. It's slow and soft and the opposite of any kiss we've ever shared. There's tears, there's blood, there's hurt and there's anger. But also, a soft, tenderness that hasn't ever been there before.
"Don't give up on me, Cal. Please."
My eyes close. He pulls me to him and wraps his arms around me. I hate how comforting it is. I hate how much I love it.
"This isn't fair, J."
"I know."
"I can't keep doing this."
"I know."
He steps back, his hands going back to my cheeks. He holds me firmly so I can't look away.
"I'll make this work."
"How?"
"I can't promise you everything you want, but I'm going to try."
"You keep saying this but then you don't try," I feel like I'm whining but I've reached the end of my patience. "We're going around in circles."
"I'm just not good enough for you," he sighs, dropping his hands. "I never will be."
"Don't make me hit you again."
He laughs. I don't know how he's laughing right now, when I feel like I'm holding on by a thread and that there's no oxygen left in the room.
"I know I should go, but it's the last thing I want to do."
"Do whatever you want, I'm going to shower."
I grab my old soccer shorts and drape them over my shoulder. I walk into the bathroom and lean heavily on the sink. I feel like screaming to the point where my voice goes hoarse. I feel so frustrated and angry. I knew love wasn't easy – I've read plenty of books, seen plenty of movies, seen my own parent's struggle the obstacles of marriage. But fuck me, I didn't know it was going to be hard.
Do I love him? I think I do. I have to, surely, to feel the emotions I'm feeling. But if I truly loved him, wouldn't I just settle for what he can offer? Is that what love is? Just one, big compromise? Or is it the fact that I want more, proving that I love him?
I don't know. My head hurts. My heart hurts. I just need to shower and go to sleep.
I strip and walk into the shower. I press my skin onto the startling cold tiles and close my eyes. My lungs fill with steam and the hot water runs down my skin.
I hear the door open. My hands curl, fisting, my nails biting into my skin.
The shower door slides open. I can't breathe. I can't think.
Finally, I dare to open my eyes.
Jake stands before me, completely bare, his dark, now wet hair, sticking to his skin. His piercing blue eyes stare at me, unblinkingly. It feels as if every nerve in my body has kickstarted. The shower is hot, but my skin breaks out in goose bumps.
"I'm an idiot," he says. "I know you're the best thing in my life right now and I'm throwing it away because of pride."
My heart is thundering inside my chest.
"Don't go out with him," his voice is a mere whisper. I can barely hear it over the sound of my own heart beat and the thrumming water. "Go out with me."
"I've already agreed," my voice cracks.
"Then cancel."
His fingers reach out to my chest. I shiver under his touch. Ever-so-slowly, he runs his hand down my stomach, tracing the lines of my muscles. I squirm under his touch. It feels absolutely sensational.
His forehead presses against mine, his left hand cupping my cheek.
"Callum," he murmurs. I try to concentrate on his words. "Tell me you'll cancel your plans."
My teeth grit together. I tell myself not to let him win, like I always do. But it's proving to be very difficult.
His right hand sinks lower.
"Oh boy," I breathe.
"Yeah," he agrees. "I'm your boy."