Fair Catch

by Kandi Steiner

I didn’t care if she hated me. In fact, I was glad she did. It made it easier to keep my focus on protecting her and off the temptation to claim her for my own.

I’d never felt my heart beat like that before, never felt that… possessive.

“What the hell is wrong with—” But before I could finish the sentence, Zeke rushed me in equal measure, closing the distance between us. Shock washed over me like an earthquake, sudden and unexpected, and the words died on my lips as I watched him descend on me. His heavy footsteps echoed in the chambers of my heart. His hot breath silenced any attempt of me telling him to stop. His hands slipped into my hair, tugging tight and tilting my chin up. And then his mouth claimed mine in a kiss of thunder that beckoned the storm inside me to rage.

“Because I am scarred by the fire you started in me. Because you have reduced me to fucking ashes.”

“Because I ache for you,” he breathed against my lips next. “And I’ll end anyone who touches what’s mine.”

There was no way to avoid the cold, hard truth of it all. I was addicted. And like any addict will tell you, it didn’t matter that I knew in the back of my mind that we were playing with fire. It didn’t matter that one day it all would have to end, that one day I’d have to go through withdrawals and peel myself off the floor. Right now, I had her. And though she told me she couldn’t give me more, I pretended like this would always be enough.

“We are all mortal until our first kiss,” I read. “And our second glass of wine.” I chuckled then, smoothing my thumb over the text. “Eduardo Galeano.”

“I don’t want casual,” he continued. “I don’t want to pretend that I’m not yours in every way there is to belong to someone, that I don’t yearn for you to be mine in the same way. I don’t want to hide. I don’t want to keep having my heart fucking demolished at the thought of this all ending at any minute.”

“You hold mine. You own mine. For now, forever, regardless of what happens next. And even if you hate me for the rest of your life, I need you to know that I love you.”

“You can forgive. Forgive, and understand that we’re human. We’re not perfect. And one day when you make a mistake, you’ll want someone to afford you the same grace.”

“Somebody who betters you,” I started. “Somebody who inspires and encourages you in love and in life, who pushes you toward dreams and goals you’d otherwise ignore, who selflessly sacrifices their time to help you become a more courageous, well rounded and happy human being. That’s sacred,” I said, swallowing before I finished. “You hold on to a love like that.”