Reality

Chapter 24

Reclining back into the couch, I rest my head over the top, lacing my hands behind my head, using my thumbs to massage the area between my neck and shoulders.

It's about ten minutes until I hear the soft patter of sock covered feet walk down the hallway, and I look up to see Joslyn dressed in a hoodie and sweat pants. Her bun is pulled out, her long dark hair brushed and thrown into a low, casual ponytail, and her face is bare, the light makeup she applied this morning washed away.

She walks past me to sit on the opposite end of the couch, tucking her legs under her and leaning onto the armrest. Her hands are formed into fists on her lap, and I can tell she's fight the urge to anxiously fidget with her fingers.

Unable to restrain myself, I crawl over to her, resting my head on her lap and lying down on my side across the couch. Almost instantly, she plunges her fingers into my hair and I let out a sigh of content, feeling the most relaxed I have all day. Her hand goes down to my neck, her thumb and pointer finger massaging there, and I nearly groan at how good it feels.

She works on my neck for a while until I roll over onto my back to look up at her. She looks back at me with soft eyes, brushing some curls that toppled over my forehead back. I feel a sense of déjà vu wash over me. The first time I kissed her we were in this exact position, back at my old condo not too far from here. I remember my heart racing a hundred miles a minute when I found the courage to finally grab the back of her head and lean up to place my lips on hers. It was one of the best feelings of my life.

Suddenly I have the urge to reach up and snake my hand around the back of her neck, to pull her down and meet her lips halfway with mine. To feel her soft, delicate lips brush against mine again after all these years.

But I know right now that would be wildly inappropriate, and something that can't happen. Especially now, or possibly ever.

I've come to realize that Joslyn is like a favorite pair of jeans—she's familiar and comfortable, we've been through a lot together, but our relationship is worn with too many fraying holes that may be beyond repair.

Over the years, I've learned that love is the most destructive emotion known to mankind. Having your heart ripped out is one of the most brutal things you can ever experience. And with Joslyn... I can't... I can't go through that pain again.

I love Joslyn, I always have. Even when I wanted to hate her to my core, I could only find it in myself to hate what she did to me more. No matter how much I wanted to hate her, forget about her, I couldn't. And that's why I can't act on my feelings. I'm afraid if I try to go down that path again I'll either get rejected or hurt all over.

But Joslyn is the only one who really sees me. She sees the good, the bad, and the ugly, but still chooses to stick by me when I need her most, which is why the fact that she left years ago is unbelievable.

Maybe Chris really did—

"Alex," Joslyn says my name, bringing me out of my thoughts. She brushes her thumb over the space between my brows, trying to smooth out the knot there I didn't realize was forming.

I look into her hazel eyes, my eyes instinctively wandering down to her soft pink lips. Heart racing, I reach up to cup her cheek in my hand, thumb stroking.

A flash of realization—the memory of our first kiss—sparks in her eyes, and I hear her breathing hitch. Her hand comes up to capture my wrist, but she doesn't push or pull me away. Her hand just rests there as she anticipates my next move.

Before I can do anything, a loud knock echoes through my condo, causing both of our eyes to fly over to the front door. Joslyn's brow furrows, and she looks to me questioningly, silently asking if she should answer the door or not.