I haul her up off the ground and carry her into the shower, clothes and all.
She sputters as water pours over her. I put her down right under the stream and yank the glass door closed behind us. If I had a lock, I’d use it.
As it is, I position myself so she’ll have to go through me if she wants to flee.
“My dress!” she groans, looking down at the red silky fabric now pasted to her skin.
“Should have taken it off,” I reply without an ounce of remorse.
Her eyes flare up to meet mine. They’re narrowed into little slits as she steps toward me. She holds up her hands, fisting them into tight balls. I think if I had my shirt on, she’d grab me by the collar and twist.
“Let me out,” she demands.
“No.”
Her fists pound against my chest. “Let me out!”
“No.”
Her anger morphs as I watch, breaking down, dissolving, splintering into parts visible in her anguished expression: sadness, annoyance, fear.
When she speaks again, it’s with a half-concealed sob. “Let me out, Aiden.”
I grab her around the waist and bring her flush against me. We’re sopping wet and warm now that we’re in the shower together. Still, her touch is ice cold as she wraps her arms around my middle and digs her fingers into my back.
Her head falls against my chest and she rocks her forehead back and forth, like she’s shaking her head no.
I let my head fall into the crook of her neck as I wrap my arms tighter around her.
It feels like I can’t get her close enough. I want her inside me, part of me.
She’s crying now, but I can barely hear her. Her quiet tears are worse than outright sobs, and my heart fucking breaks. I flatten my hand against her back and drag it up to cup the back of her neck. I want her to look at me, want her to say something.
When she finally does, it hurts.
“I want to hate you so badly.”
Her words are a bullet to the heart.
It feels too late, like nothing I say now will have any effect on her.
“No,” I whisper.
“I want to,” she says again, her voice faltering.
“Please don’t.”
She lifts her head to look at me, her sad eyes brimming over with tears.
“You left me and went to New York City.”
“You didn’t ask me to stay.”
“You didn’t want to stay.”
“I did, but I knew I had to get away. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought…” I shake my head. “I tried to tell you how I felt, over and over again. I thought I was showing you my feelings, but you didn’t want to hear them. You never wanted to talk about us being together.”
“Because I was in love with you!” she shouts. “Desperately! Horribly! I loved you in the worst way.”
Her words reverberate in the glass-walled shower, shocking me into action.
I bend down and capture her lips quickly, before thought or reason or motives or consequences can weasel their way into a perfect moment.
It’s the kiss of a lifetime. The kiss I’ve wanted for years. A kiss that comes right after the truth.
I love you too, Maddie.
I loved you then and I love you now.
I tilt my head and kiss her harder, grasping her with everything I have.
How is it possible for two people to be in love, circling around and around one another, neither one of them clued in to the fact that the other person feels the exact same way? The more I loved her, the lonelier I felt. The harder I fell, the scarier it was to admit my feelings. I tried to make subtle hints, to flirt in an overt way that she couldn’t misconstrue, but what she said at dinner was true. I am angry at myself.
All this time…lost.
Look at us.
We’ve killed ourselves over a misunderstanding.
We’ve loved in isolation.
We’re starved, and this kiss is so overdue it hurts.
Maddie’s nails scrape my back as she arches up onto her toes and presses herself against me. I take one of her legs and wrap it around my hip, using it to hoist her up off the ground. Backing her up against the wall makes it easier for me to leverage myself against her, to seal our lips together as my hands explore her body. I yank on the straps of her dress. They’re wet and stuck to her skin, obstinate. I tug harder, and one tears free.
Maddie doesn’t notice. Her hands skate around my waist, coming