Lost to You - - (readera ebook reader TXT) 📗

the same words that had spurred our downfall five nights before.

I repeated mine. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. I don’t know anything, except that I miss you.”

Elizabeth seemed to search for air, struggled to pull in a breath. “Christian—”

I cut her off. “I don’t know how to get past what happened the other night, but I can’t go on pretending that I’m okay without you in my life. I haven’t slept in days because all I think about is you. I mean . . .”

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, my eyes frantic as they took in every inch of her face.

Agony, the partner to mine, was written there, clear and concise.

“Look at you, Elizabeth.” I took a chance and reached out and touched her face.

A bolt of need struck me deep.

Through an open mouth, I released a tremulous breath and took a step away as I softened my voice. “Don’t tell me you don’t miss me as much as I miss you.”

Close enough to be swallowed by her presence, an apprehensive energy vibrated between us. She fidgeted and fisted the hand at her side.

“I miss you, too . . . so much.” The last part rasped from her mouth. “But I don’t know how to be around you anymore. Don’t you see it, Christian?”

She frowned and her head drifted to one side. “Didn’t you feel that when you touched me? Do you think either of us can ignore that anymore? Because I can’t.”

I rushed a nervous hand over my face, trying to clear my thoughts, to offer her something other than the promise she wanted me to make.

“At least come with me tomorrow night. It’s Thanksgiving, and I can’t stand the thought of you spending it alone. I know I messed up and the last people you probably want to be around are my parents, but I want you there.”

I gripped a handful of hair and let the truth bleed out. “I need you there, okay? You’re my best friend. I meant that, Elizabeth. Even with everything else, you’re still my best friend. That’s all that matters to me.”

Softly, her lids fell closed. I could see her wavering, hesitating over every concealed unknown we both wished we could see. She finally opened her eyes, the smallest movement of her head as she timidly nodded. “Okay.”

Okay.

My pounding heart steadied, the torment of the last five days silenced.

Okay.

She blinked a thousand questions, the uncertainty in her frame mimicking everything I felt.

Neither of us knew where we were headed or how we’d handle these unanswered questions. The only thing I could do was hang onto her okay.

Somehow, I knew we would be.

“We’re supposed to meet my parents at the restaurant at 6:00, so I’ll meet you at your apartment at 5:30. We’ll have to take a cab.”

“I’m guessing I need to dress up?”

I offered a compensating laugh and scratched at the nape of my neck. “Uh . . . yeah.”

Elizabeth frowned in the cutest way. “Of course, you’d have to make me dress up.” That tease was inflected in her tone, the casual ease I loved about Elizabeth.

Maybe we could make it back to that place.

Cocking my chin up and to the side, a playful grin spread my lips. “Oh, you can blame that all on my parents. And I probably don’t need to warn you about them. Just plan on a dinner filled with awkward silences interjected with the occasional bouts of my dad criticizing me for being a total failure. Don’t worry. Chances are, they won’t find you worth looking twice in your direction.”

I injected as much humor as I could dish into the words, though they still came with a bite.

An early apology for what I was about to put her through.

I felt obligated to warn her how absolutely terrible dinner would be. How callus my parents truly were. Honestly, I hated to subject her to them, but I wasn’t lying when I told her I needed her there.

That tenderness I could never deserve surfaced on her face again, a sympathy only offered in the kindness of my friend.

“I get it, Christian.” Her arm swung out, her fingers grazing just the side of my hand. “I’m going for you. Not for them.”

I tensed my shoulders and rocked up onto my toes, then back onto my heels. “I promise I’ll take you out for ice cream afterward to make up for it.”

One side of her mouth lifted, and a small laugh fluttered from her perfect mouth. “It’s a deal.”

I struggled with the urge to kiss her, tried to remember the lines that had been drawn that now were blurred and smeared, tried to trace back to that moment months before when I’d come to the resolution of who we were and what she meant to me.

I stepped back, minutely shaking my head, realizing Elizabeth could never be contained by that definition.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I whispered.

“I’ll be ready.”

Elizabeth brushed past me and ambled down the corridor with her head held low again.

I watched her go.

When she glanced at me over her shoulder, my chest tightened. The movement was pensive, searching.

A small, thankful smile tugged at one side of my mouth, and my hand fluttered up in a hesitant wave.

She smiled back. And I saw it again, the way she looked at me that night.

It singed my skin, warmed my face, expanded and pushed at my ribs.

I rubbed at my chest, shaken by the impact of her parting glance.

Pushing it off, I instead savored the respite I found in her okay.

When she disappeared into the milling crowd, I turned around and ran to catch the last couple minutes of my class.

I took my time getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. It’s not like I could sit around alone in my apartment any longer. All I wanted was to be back in Elizabeth’s presence, to see her face and again be reminded that we would be okay.

I dressed in black dress pants, a dark maroon button-up, and a matching tie, then ran some product through my hair to maintain some semblance of style.

The last thing I needed was to give my father another reason to tear into me.

I’d called my mom yesterday to tell her to make reservations for four because I was bringing a friend.

She’d hesitated, before she scolded me for doing something like this when I knew it would upset my father.

I flat out told her I didn’t give a shit what my father thought. They were the last two people I wanted to spend Thanksgiving with, anyway.

How sad was that?

I dreaded seeing them.

My own parents.

Sometimes I thought maybe my mother tried, but most of the time, she was like some mindless robot next to my father, as if she didn’t have her own feelings or something.

The only thing that would make it halfway bearable was Elizabeth being there.

I glanced at the clock as I tied my too-shiny black shoes, anxious to get to her. I knew Elizabeth was stepping out, throwing herself into a world where she would feel completely uncomfortable, and I knew she was only doing it for me.

Selfless.

Exactly the opposite of me.

This girl was like none other.

At 5:15, I pulled on my jacket and left my apartment. It was freezing outside. I paused to look up.

Heavy, dark clouds hung low, the tops of the skyscrapers disappearing into the winter sky. Night pressed in, and a chill rolled down my spine.

I blew into my hands and rubbed them together before I buried them deep in my coat pockets for warmth. Turning, I headed in Elizabeth’s direction.

Outside her building, I looked up to the second floor where her light glowed from behind her drapes. Blood rushed to my ears, and my pulse bolted ahead of me.

Get it together.

Drawing in a steadying breath, I bounded up the steps. My hand shook when I lifted it to her door. I rapped at the wood.

“One second,” echoed from the other side.

Impatience shuffled my feet, and I jerked my head up when the door suddenly flew open.

Warmth blasted across my face, and Elizabeth stood there, framed in her doorway.

For a flash, we both froze.

Trapped.

Contemplating the other.

I smiled lightly as my gaze traveled her face, making sure she was there, that she wanted to be beside me as much as I wanted to be beside her.

Tonight, she wore more makeup than I’d ever seen her wear, her brown eyes kissed with gold and browns and shimmer, rimmed in black. Her hair was twisted up with pieces tumbling down in all the right places.

Every time she blinked, I was struck, mesmerized, the perfection of this girl something that had undone me.

My gaze traveled