The Choice (a Painful Past)

196

He just stepped with me, staying close. I needed to back away again. Just a couple of steps, but my feet wouldn't move. I was just standing there with a cigarette in one hand, and my other placed on Colby's chest. He was so close that all the air seemed to evaporate between us, suffocating me. 

"What are you doing?" I breathed out. "Proving that I make you nervous," he chuckled. "I'm not nervous. I'm socially anxious and you're too damn close," I insisted, frozen to the spot. 

He leaned down, close to my ear. His warm breath caressed my skin, sending shivers down my body again. "If you say so," he whispered, before he pressed his lips to the skin below my ear. 

I sucked in a painful breath and clenched his shirt with the hand that was on his chest. "We shouldn't," I murmured, as I closed my eyes and let my head fall back. I couldn't blame it on the alcohol this time. 

"Why not?" he sighed, before he dropped his lips to the flushed skin of my neck. For the life of me, I couldn't think of an answer. Why not? Exactly. Why shouldn't I let him keep doing what he was doing? It felt too good and it had been so long since I had actually enjoyed intimate contact. 

But this was Colby. My best friend. My best friend that I had just reconnected with. He was leaving soon. Leaving me again. What if this didn't mean anything serious, but it ended up ruining our friendship? 

My brain kicked into overdrive, overthinking everything. It was really hard to concentrate with his lips making their way down my neck and back along my jaw. 

I sighed when they finally met mine. I couldn't let this happen. Not when I didn't know what it meant. But I would let this kiss happen. Just this. One of his hands wound itself into my hair and tilted my head back. I let out a small whimper against his lips and tightened my hand in his shirt. 

His lips moved against mine, until I opened to him, allowing him entrance. He had always been such an amazing kisser, dominating in a way that made me eager to  comply. His hand gripped my hip, pulling me closer against him, leaving my hand trapped between our bodies. 

I was drowning in him, clinging to his shirt for dear life. 

I didn't know how long I was lost in his arms, in his kiss. It didn't matter. I could take this small piece of him and live on it for a while. 

Eventually, he pulled away, slowly. He pressed his lips to mine two more times, gently, then held my gaze. "I've wanted to do that again, ever since you left the hotel. Without you being drunk," he said, his voice deep and raspy. 

I didn't know what to say or do, so I just kept looking into those intense eyes. I was quite literally struck dumb. 

"Are you okay?" he kind of laughed, after another couple of minutes. "Um, yeah?" I replied, questioning it myself. Was I okay? No, definitely not. "Was that okay?" he asked, sounding a little unsure. 

I stepped back, making him drop his hands from my hip and my hair. "It was okay," I murmured, trying to clear my head. "It was more than okay. I just...what does it mean?" 

He smiled softly and reached for one of my hands. I let him take it in his, vaguely wondering what happened to my cigarette. I needed another one. My skin felt like my blood was just zinging underneath it, filled with static. 

"It means that I wanted to kiss you. I've always enjoyed kissing you, but I wanted to kiss you while we were both sober," he replied, before he brought my hand to his lips. I let out a squeak, as his lips brushed against my knuckles. How was something so small, so fucking erotic? I had issues. 

I needed to go inside, around other people. I needed to check on Ben. I needed some type of supervision before I ruined everything and threw myself at Colby.