Not So Far Away (Worlds Collide The Duets #1) - LL Meyer Page 0,100

of condoms. That was stupid of me, to let you see the whole box.”

“Opal, you’re not making any sense. Why don’t you get out now?”

I shake my head and wipe at my tears. “Tell me. Please. Could I have done something differently?”

“El,” he says with exasperation, shutting off the water and pulling me from the tub. “Come on.”

He wraps a towel around me and I feel my shoulders slump. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m being irrational, too emotional, aren’t I? It seems like I’m always too something. Too opinionated, too eager, too full of myself, too drunk. Every guy I’ve ever been with has had one for me. Nathan’s was pretty good. He said I was too stupid to see what was right in front of my face.” Scott stops trying to wring the water from my hair with a hand towel and frowns at me. “That’s not what it is for you, is it?” I ask, breathing through the stab of pain just under my ribs. “Because some of them hurt more than others.”

Even if I know I’m rambling, I can’t stop the words from spilling out of me. I’ve never told this to anyone, and now that I’ve started, I don’t have the strength to patch up the holes and dam it all up again.

“If I had to pick one for you,” I continue, “it would be something like too tall. Because I can’t do anything about how tall I am.” Sniffling, I pull back to look up at him.

“You’re not too tall, Ellie,” he says, his eyes pleading, his voice stern. “You’re perfect.”

Resentment surges. “Don’t say that!” I push away from him, letting the towel fall to the floor as I march back to the bedroom. Grabbing a tank top and pair of underwear from my dresser, I yank them on and then face him.

My indignation dissolves almost instantly when I turn. With his arms folded over his bare chest, still in just his underwear, his posture is stiff and unsure – and I hate that I’ve done that to him. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself.

“El,” he starts, “you’re not too anything, okay?”

I hold up my hand, wincing slightly. “Don’t. It’s okay. I know I’m messing this up.”

“You’re not messing anything up, sweetness,” he says, his voice laced with caution. “Just tell me where this is coming from.”

My heart thumps in my chest – one beat, two, three – and I rub at it to try to ease the throb. Maybe being honest will repair some of the damage I’ve inflicted on us. “I . . . well, when you say you’ve never been in love, I can say the same, only in reverse.”

His brows hitch down, and a trickle of optimism begins to seep into my gloom because I know him well enough to know that look. It means he’s thinking. But I’ve tortured him enough tonight so I quickly add to my admission.

“And by that, I mean no one’s ever been in love with me.”

Imagine a scoop of ice cream melting on the pavement. It perfectly encapsulates both the way his expression softens into understanding and then pity, and the way mine turns to dismay.

He comes toward me, his hand outstretched, but I dodge him. Clearly I didn’t quite think this through to its logical conclusion. I’d rather stab myself than be on the receiving end of his pity.

“El,” he warns as I scoot past him again. We end up squared off on either side of the bed, but he’s closer to the door so I can’t get out of the room.

He props his hands on his hips, considering the situation. Then he has the nerve to grin at me as he crooks his finger. “Come here.”

I purse my lips. “Bossy time is over.”

“Bossy time?” He bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, and can’t help but wonder how the mood changed so quickly. “You like bossy time. And you heard me. Come here.” His voice drops low on the command, making my stomach squirm, but it’s not enough to divert my attention from his steps as he comes around the bed and makes a grab for me.

I go over the mattress and make a break for the door, but he catches me around my waist. “Scott!” He throws me down on the bed, jumping on top of me to straddle my thighs, holding me down by my wrists. I buck up against him, trying to dislodge his weight, but he’s