The Boy on the Bridge

He’s still quiet, but I’ve said all I can say.

My phone buzzes, lighting up and stealing my attention.

Mom texted back, “I’ll come get you. Tell me where you are.”

I slide open the text so I can respond. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’m fine, I promise. Please just go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Did your mom meet him?”

I look up at Hunter. “No. We were supposed to meet here and just come in together. I guess I wasn’t prompt enough for him, though. He showed up at my house, but he didn’t come in.”

“Yeah, he’s a pushy fucker,” Hunter mutters.

“I noticed.” I look down at the bed.

Hunter is quiet for another moment, then he says, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I look up at him.

“I mean, he fucking… assaulted you, apparently, and then I…”

“I’m fine,” I say, not letting him finish. “I promise. It was just a kiss, it’s not like he…”

“Raped you,” he says flatly.

The way he says it causes my heart to sink.

Something flutters inside me, something fearful and nervous. Maybe it’s unavoidable when a word like that is floating around in such a tense situation, but the way it makes me feel… I want to crawl out of my own skin.

Doing my best to ward off the unpleasant sensation, I pat the empty side of the mattress. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

He ignores the invitation. “Did I?”

“No,” I answer quickly, firmly.

“Are you sure? I kind of feel like I did.”

“No.” I pat the bed more adamantly. “Please get back in bed with me.”

He doesn’t move. “Are you saying no because you believe that, or because you think I did, and you don’t want me to feel bad about it?”

“You were angry and hurt, and I completely understand. I would have been, too.”

“Those are excuses, not denials,” he states.

“I didn’t say no,” I say more firmly. “I didn’t ask you to stop.”

His gaze meets mine. “But you wanted me to,” he says flatly. “I know what it looks like when you want it, Riley.” He drops my gaze and looks down. “You didn’t want it.”

“Yes, I did.” I grab his hand, tugging him closer to the bed. “I did. I didn’t want to want it, but I did.”

He shakes his head.

“Please get in bed with me,” I say, a little more desperately. “I’m not mad. You didn’t hurt me.”

He reaches out the hand I’m not holding, touching my face, his etched with regret. “I didn’t mean to.”

My heart aches. “You didn’t,” I promise. Trying to soften the moment and lure him back into safer harbors, I lighten my tone and tell him, “But you do owe me cuddles and pillow talk. You’re 0 for 2 right now, Maxwell.”

He attempts a smile, but it’s a sad one. “Both of those times were mean. What’s wrong with me? I fucking worship you and I can’t stop hurting you.”

Hearing him say that physically hurts. Tears sting unexpectedly behind my eyes. I feel a bit of moisture gathering in the corner of one eye, but I blink it away. I can’t cry. If I cry, he’ll take it as verification that he did hurt me, and he didn’t. What hurts me is his pain, not mine.

“Come here.”

I yank him on the bed with me since he won’t accept my invitations. Once he’s on the mattress, he moves over to his side of the bed, so I crawl up and snuggle in next to him.

“I love you,” I tell him, sliding my arm over his torso and draping a leg over his to get closer to him.

“I love you, too,” he says quietly.

My heart already knew that, so I don’t feel surprised. “Listen, I’m not holding that stuff against you. The Valerie thing, yes, but… the rest wasn’t unforgivable to me. I didn’t say no to you this time because I thought you might not stop if I did, but I wasn’t mad about it, not really. I just… I would have had to be if I told you another line not to cross and then you did it anyway. You can’t keep doing that, Hunter. I can’t believe you respect me if you don’t care about crossing my boundaries.”

“I do,” he says. “I respect you immensely, Riley. There’s no one I respect more. What happened in this bed a few hours ago had nothing to do with not respecting you, I was just… blinded by a jealous rage. I lost control a little bit, and I’m sorry for that. I have a temper, I’m trying to get a better hold on it, but thinking you were going to hook up with him, it set me off.”

“I get that,” I tell him. “I don’t expect you to be perfect, Hunter. I know you’re jealous, I know you have a temper, I know you might get a little out of hand sometimes. I can handle that, but only if even when you get out of hand, you still care about me and respect my boundaries. You don’t get a pass on caring about me because you’re mad.”