Are You Inviting Me In?

*Her*

I stood by the door to my room, leaning my shoulder against the frame. The coffee mug in my hands warmed the tips of my fingers and the smell made my chest ease. But I was thrown off by the man that still slept in my bed.

Brian laid on his stomach, his arms spread across the width of the bed. I pursed my lips as I watched him, wondering if last night was worth the conversation we would have to have now. Wondering if it would be worth the awkwardness.

Who was I kidding, of course it wasn’t worth it. I had to fake my orgasm because I couldn’t get off. His touch was all wrong and he didn’t kiss me right. It didn’t feel good.

I scowled, my heart filling with dread.

A knock on the door made me jump and I spun on my heels, taking a last sip from my coffee before setting it down on the kitchen counter on my way to the door.

I opened the door, confused as to who would be knocking, but I was unsuspecting.

I shouldn’t have been.

Because I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t ready for the absolute despair and longing that would shatter my oblivious heart.

Familiar dark green eyes met my gaze. A face I had dreamed about a thousand times was inches from mine. I froze as I watched him, taking in the new wrinkles that lined the corners of his eyes.

He stopped pacing in the hallway and inhaled slowly, his eyes taking in the length of my body, his brows furrowing as he focused on the shock on my face.

He returned his gaze back down to my legs and I was suddenly so aware that I only wore a sweatshirt and underwear. I pulled the hem down and crossed my legs, all the while keeping my gaze locked on his face.

Was this real?

We looked at each other for a moment, silence enveloping us. I was angry at how familiar he looked. At how one look for him sent a warmth through my chest. I wondered if he smelled the same as I remembered.

Though he looked familiar, he was so different. There was a wisdom about him. A sincere quietness in his eyes that made him seem older than he was. His hair was shorter. He looked so fucking sad. Broken.

But then I was outraged. I felt, once more, like that eighteen year old girl he had left to cry. I felt so vulnerable, so weak, so small.

Steps sounded behind me and I grimaced, pressing my lips together in discomfort.

“Hey did you want to order food - Oh, hello,” Brian stopped mid step, only his arms moving as he shoved his shirt over his head and down his stomach.

He looked between Kian and I, his disheveled hair making the situation all that more unbelievable. He took in my weakened stance and frowned.

“Are you okay?” He reached for me running his hand down my arm and I flinched subconsciously.

He looked at Kian and frowned, “Hey man, I think you should-“

“Brian,” I exhaled through my nose, closing my eyes as I tried to breath, as I tried to reign in the headache that was exploding in my head.

He nodded, his lips pressed together as he began to realize that he wasn’t welcome anymore.

He leaned toward me, my skin prickling and he pressed soft kiss to my cheek, “I’ll call you later okay?”

Kian watched us carefully, his eyes not leaving the place where Brian’s lips had touched my cheek. It felt like an eternity with that piercing gaze.

I could do nothing but swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

He bumped Kian’s shoulder as he walked away and I exhaled quickly, annoyed.

Kian’s jaw tensed before he looked at me, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have intruded-“

“What are you doing here?”

He shifted slowly, and he focused on the ground, avoiding my eyes, “I’m sorry about Rick.”

I hated how I wanted to climb him like a tree at the same time that I wanted to slap him in the face. He looked so sad, and it killed me but angered me even more.

I tilted my head, internally scoffing, “The funeral was yesterday.”

“I know,” He nodded, lifting his head and tightening his hands in fists.

“You didn’t go.”

“No,” He looked behind my shoulder, his eye shifting between the living room and the kitchen.

“So what are you doing here now?”

He looked down the hallway, to where Brian had walked away. He fidgeted, his fingers rubbing together. I was ready to slam the door closed in his face when he returned those eyes to mine.

My knees buckled but I held onto the door. He stepped toward me, his warmth fanning across my skin.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

I blinked, “What?”

“Brian? Are you together?”

I shook my head, “He probably thinks we are, but no, we aren’t.”

He nodded.

I felt like I was going to faint. The question made my chest light up in a million emotions. I needed to know why he was here. Why he would return to me after all this time.

“Are you going to come in?”

He sighed, as if releasing the tension in his shoulders, “Are you inviting me in?”