“And with that, I think you’re done reading this book.” Jameson grabbed the book from Kendall’s chest and tossed it across the room. Your eyes follow it to where it landed in the kitchen with a thud. “Something tells me they need to talk.” He took Kendall’s hand and pulled her up.

“Here’s some good advice, don’t repeat whatever it was you said before,” Kendall instructed before they both disappeared down the hall into Jameson’s room.

Without looking at me, you got up and headed to the stairs, reminding me that my time was running out.

“How long are you going to freeze me out?” I asked, skipping multiple stairs to be behind you.

“I’m not freezing you out.”

“The hell you’re not! You’re pissed at me for what I said, and you’re trying to make me pay for it!”

“Pay for it? You think I’m trying to make you pay for it?” Your eyes swung to me. Usually I noticed your lips when you spoke to me, as I’ve said, you have the greatest lips. But your eyes were round with accusation and anger making me focus solely on them.

“People have casual sex all the time! I’ve had plenty of it; sex isn’t always about emotions and deep-seated promises, tying two people together. It’s naive to think that!”

Hurt resonated in your eyes as they narrowed, and the skin between them wrinkled. Then you wiped it clear and grabbed your backpack. That’s when I realized it was your indifferent tone downstairs that had hurt. You were acting so nonchalant and detached, it pissed me off even more.

“You always want to run away when shit gets real!” I accused, holding onto the doorframe to prevent a clear path to the hallway. “You have to stop running!”

“What am I supposed to do, Max?” Your bag dropped on your arm, and for a second, I thought you were going to stay even though your eyes were still hard.

“Fight. Tell me that’s not what it means. Tell me how you feel!” The words came out angrier than I intended; in my head they were a plea.

“Are you kidding? You want to completely demean me and our relationship, and now you want me to profess my feelings for you?” Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag again, and your eyes became slits.

I waited to see something else besides anger to help me calm down so my hurt didn’t lead the conversation.

You wanted me to say something, I just didn’t realize how much until you lifted your bag and yelled, “Move!”

“What is running away going to accomplish?”

“What is being here going to accomplish? All I want to do right now is get away from you! I’m disgusted with you!”

Your words hurt. I’m sure you had been disgusted with me before this moment, like when the whole Felicia kiss in the garage happened, but at that time your happiness wasn’t my responsibility, even though I had wanted it to be. But last November, it was, and I felt like a complete failure and unfortunately masked my pain with anger once again. “You’re disgusted with me for having casual sex?”

“I’m disgusted with you for pretending to care!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” I yelled.

“I thought I knew that, but right now …” your head hung as it shook, “… I don’t know what I know, other than I need to get out of here.”

Without giving me a chance to say anything, you pushed past me and disappeared down the steps.

I grabbed my keys and watched your car turn north rather than south in the direction of your apartment. I hopped in my Jeep and followed, allowing a short gap between us. You never looked up at your rearview mirror to see if I was following, not even once. I stayed close to you so no one could merge between us, traffic was busy and I didn’t want to lose you. After following you for ten minutes, I realized you didn’t know I was behind you. You weren’t looking up to see if I was there because you didn’t expect me to be. It made me wonder how long you had been running from people? And how had they never followed you?

You turned into a small, familiar parking lot that was desolate like always while I stayed several feet back, working to wrap my head around a new list of thoughts that were popping up. For so long, I thought you were looking for your perfect Ken doll as you bounced from one guy to the next in high school, standing beside them with a smile that I only realized a few months prior wasn’t anything close to genuine. It was nothing like the smile I got to see, the smile that I put there. Had you just been waiting for someone to finally catch you?

I looped around and parked beside you, extracting a flashlight from my glove compartment. When I made it down to the sand I saw you in the distance. You had already made it a decent way down the beach, your face turned toward the ocean.

“How could no one follow you?” I whispered to myself and set off after you.

I considered calling out to you several times as I tailed you, fearing what thoughts were going through your mind. We never discussed what you were thinking as you walked, but I’m sure it was of my negative traits. I wanted to be fair to you and allow those thoughts to process, you deserved to weigh my bad with my good.

You finally stopped, and stared out at the ocean with your back to the world for a few long moments before I interrupted you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you again.”

You girls obviously didn’t get the same satisfaction from scaring the shit out of one another, because all of you Bosse girls were ridiculously easy to startle. Your head whipped around and your body jerked at the sound of my voice.

I tried to hide my smile, but I know you saw it. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to startle you.” Thankfully, you didn’t move when I took a step closer to you.

“Why are you here, Max?” Only your head moved but as you looked back to the ocean, I could see the faint traces of emotions that were still absent from your voice.

Why was I there? Where else would I have been, babe? I shoved that admission aside and tried to explain where my mood swings derived from.

“All weekend I kept hearing how great we are together. How it will be our wedding that everyone’s gathered at next.” I still didn’t know if you were relieved or annoyed that I was there, so I forced myself to allow a small gap between us.

“I’m not giving you any ultimatums or pressuring you into anything!” You turned to look at me thankfully, because your voice was defensive, but your eyes revealed other emotions. Emotions I understood and was familiar with.

You handled this well so I think you understood what I was thinking even though my words felt so far out of reach. “I know,” I began, turning my gaze to the surf and then to you, contemplating if I should just say those three words that are so much bigger than anyone gives them credit for. You have no idea how afraid I was of you, and what your thoughts were of me at that time. I took a deep breath, and shook my head once. “I’d almost prefer you did! I never know what in the hell is going through that damn head of yours! I don’t know what you’re thinking or how you feel! You’ve dated so many guys, and yet you were a virgin! And you weren’t reluctant to sleep with me at all, even when you thought …”

Your chin tilted and your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. I was sure you heard my words and how much they contradicted so many things because I’d learned how to read you fairly well, so well that you’d made multiple comments about the fact. There were times when I felt like I knew you so completely, so entirely that I could watch your face and know exactly what you were thinking. Yet, when it came to me, I felt lost. I stared back at you, silently demanding to know your feelings for me, willing you to tell me that I was enough.

“You think I’m using you for casual sex?” Your words were quiet, and your gaze unfocussed, revealing you were thinking aloud rather than forming your words carefully like normal.