I'm Your Wreck

22- So We're Even

I got back to the house on Sunday after having lunch with Quinn. I was kind of sweaty, despite the wind chill outside, and my chest was tight. It would have been smart to have a game plan going into this, but I didn't. How could I, when I had no idea what I was even walking into?

The last text I sent him was on Friday after getting a little bit wine drunk with Quinn and Ryker. The message still rang in my head, unanswered of course.

Liam: I don't like you avoiding me. So if there's anything I can do to stop that from happening, just let me know.

It sounded desperate, but it was honest. Still, I wished that I hadn't sent it. Not because it was embarrassing, but because it gave him another opportunity to ignore me.

Quinn wished me luck as she dropped me off at the front of the house and I carried my book bag and small duffel of clothes up the porch and into the house. It was quiet, since Walker and Kenji weren't back yet. Ollie sent a text earlier that Morgan got back a couple of hours ago, so he was at the neighbor's house.

Which was why, when I heard a pan clatter in the kitchen, I paused. If Walker, Kenji, and Ollie were all out of the house, there were only two possible explanations to the noise in the kitchen. One, being a burglar going through our kitchen utensils or two, it was Banks.

Slowly, I lowered my bags at the base of the stairs and walked toward the sound. I had to try to talk to him one time in person and if that didn't work, I'd leave him alone. I couldn't force him to want to talk to me.

It felt like cornering a frightened baby deer, walking slow and quiet until he heard the floor board creek under my shoe.

"Did Morgan kick you out already?" he asked with his back still facing me as he stirred something on the stove. I really wish I had a plan before walking into the room, because now that I was standing there with him, my mind was going empty.

"It's me," I said, clearing my throat.

The second he whipped around to face me, my eyes involuntarily dropped to his lips as I remembered the way they felt the last time I saw him. They weren't moving now, hanging slightly open as he took in the shock of seeing me standing across the kitchen from him.

My words weren't working, so my brain thought up a plan that didn't involve any talking and it was a stupid plan probably, but maybe it would be my only chance and maybe I needed to kiss him one more time to really know for sure how I felt about the first one.

In four strides, I was across the kitchen and I didn't give either of us any time to think before I stepped into him, aiming my lips for his. He wasn't prepared for it, knocking back into the counter behind his hips as we collided.

That clench in my guts I felt during the first one, that I thought might have been shock originally, shot through my entire body. I'd never gotten electrocuted before, but I imagined this is what it would feel like. Painful and bright and sharp.

The kiss lingered longer than the first one, but was still very short before I was pulling away, taking half a step back to put some distance between us.

Through ragged breaths, I said, "So we're even," and then left the kitchen. I grabbed my bags and carried them all the way into my room, shutting the door behind me with more force than necessary and then fell onto my bed.

My heart rate still hadn't slowed down, my guts and stomach still twisted in knots and there was a burning low in my belly.

I couldn't tell myself it was shock this time, considering it was me who initiated. I saw this one coming and it destroyed me even more than the first. Maybe I'd never admit this to anybody else, but I knew right away that on my scale of kisses, that one was all the way at the top.