All warmth in the room fled as Talon dropped his gaze. It was as if a switch flipped inside of him and he suddenly remembered they were exes. She thought of telling him to forget her question, anything to stop his emotional retreat, but it was too late. The connection was broken. In that moment, she realized how fragile their relationship really was. She was holding onto him by a thread and the slightest misstep could sever that bond forever.

"Let's not do this right now," he muttered. His eyes were glued to the floor, tracing the tile pattern as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

She debated dropping the subject, but something told her if they didn't talk about it now, they never would. "Why shouldn't we?"

His fingers flexed. "You're in shock. It's not the right time."

Lifting her chin, she stubbornly said, "It's the perfect time. We're alone and the shop is closed so no one is going to interrupt us."

"I'm not going to sit here and talk about this when only minutes before you were hovering over some guy who could have died."

"Tell me why you sent that text."

His mouth tightened. "Drop it, Keeley."

Knowing she was onto something, she said, "No. I want to know why you sent it."

"I said drop it." The amount of anger behind the last two words caught her off guard. Jumping to his feet, he turned his back to her and began straightening the room. "I get your feeling all emotional right now-"

She bristled at the condescension in his tone. "I am not feeling emotional."

"-and want to talk about everything under the sun, but this isn't the time. We should clean this mess up and go home. Clear our heads. Maybe we can get together later this week."

Her bullcrap meter was dinging. He had no intention of meeting her. "That's crap and you know it. Why are you pushing me away?"

"I'm not."

"You are! I feel it right here." She pounded a palm against her chest. "You're shutting down on me and I don't know why." She was desperate for him to face her. Every second he kept his back turned was a second of fear. Not of him, but fear of the future. Fear that their relationship was slipping through her fingers right before her eyes.

"I never realized you were so clingy." His words were ice. "It's not attractive."

"No!" she yelled, pushing herself up. She could feel the wall he was building between them. Each word a brick meant to keep her out. "You do not get to do this. Not after running over here to help me. I know you care about me. I know those feelings are still there."

"Don't read into something that's not there."

She couldn't take it anymore. Putting a hand on his arm, she forced him to turn around. Her whole body flinched when she caught his expression. Hard and aloof. That was the only way to describe his features. It was as if he already detached himself from the situation...from her.

"You told me I'm the only one you want," she whispered.

He shrugged and her hand fell to her side. "For now. Feelings come and go."

Misery threatened to drag her under. Was this how he really felt?

No.

She refused to believe it. Not when everything inside of her screamed that they belonged. "We have something special. Something people only dream of finding."

"What we have is in the past."

Desperation clawed at her. "Why are you doing this? You were fine until I mentioned that text."

He moved to look away, but she grabbed his shoulders with both hands and forced him to see her...really see her. "What changed?" she asked, her face a painful display of vulnerability. For a second, his eyes softened and she swore his body leaned into hers. "I want to be with you, Talon. I trust you."

It was the wrong thing to say. Whatever ground she covered was suddenly lost.

"So you trust me now?" he asked in a harsh voice. His muscles shifted under her hands. "Funny how you suddenly changed your mind."

Her pulse raced. "What do you mean?"

"Has it ever occurred to you that I might have a tough time trusting you?" He wasn't cold now. Far from it. Anger vibrated off his body, so hot, so heated, it threatened to give her blisters.

Unable to say anything, she shook her head.

"You keep leaving when things get rough. How do I know the next time we fight or you hear something you don't like, you won't throw in the towel and walk away...again?"

"I won't," she promised, finding her voice. His grim chuckle slapped her in the face. "I won't!"

He sneered. "Excuse me for not believing you."

Her nostrils flared. She had enough of his attitude. Yes, she messed up, but she didn't deserve this. "You know what? You said we all make mistakes. Well, I made one and I'm trying to fix it. And isn't it the least bit hypocritical that you won't forgive me when you expect the same thing?"

"It's called self-preservation," he shot back.

Her eyes widened.

Self-preservation?

Did that mean...? Was he...?

"And let's be clear about one thing," he continued, his fists balled up at his side. "The only reason you're talking to me again isn't because you suddenly saw the light and decided to trust me again. It's because you talked to Claire."

She did a double take at the name.

"That's why you're willing to give me a second chance. Not because you missed me or couldn't bear to be apart, but because you heard I apologized to her. Isn't that right?"

"No," she quickly denied. "Yes. I mean...that was apart of it, but I-"

"You don't trust me. Not really. You trust the word of a girl you just met, but not me." His face contorted. "Never me."

"That's not true."

"It is!"

He was wrong. So wrong. It wasn't that she trusted Claire, because she didn't. She didn't even know the girl.

"Yes, I did talk to Claire. And yes, it was eye opening," she started.

"See? I was right. I-"

"However," she stressed, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could say anything more, "the reason I decided to text you wasn't because of her. It was because of you." She could feel his breath hitch under her palm. "Because of your actions, your response. You drove to her house and apologized for something you didn't do."

Guilt darkened his eyes and he wretched his head away. "You're wrong. It was my fault. I should have stopped them from spreading those photos."

"You didn't know what they were doing."

"But I should have! I'm just as guilty as they are."

"You can't control what other people do," she argued, but he wasn't listening.

He jerked out of her embrace and moved around the room like a caged tiger. "I know Finn takes things too far. If someone messes with his friend, he messes right back. When he heard about Claire and Zach, he was out for blood. That's why I'm so mad. I should have seen this coming."

"Contrary to what you might think, you're not God. You can't know and see everything."

He whipped around, his blue eyes flashing. "They were my friends, Keeley."

"Yes and they made some questionable choices-" she paused and tilted her head, "-highly questionable-but what they did doesn't reflect on you."

"Doesn't it?"

"Absolutely not," she stated firmly. He was nothing like Finn. He was proving it right now by being so remorseful.

He appeared taken back by the conviction in her tone. He stared at her with a confused look before shaking his head. "They trashed talked her, Keeley, and I didn't stop them. In fact, I encouraged it. It made me feel justified for sending those photos to begin with. If I had just spoken up and told them to stop..."

All the fight seemed to drain out of him as he slid down to the floor. Sighing, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. "Hindsight's a bitch."

She watched as he sat there on the ground. His legs spread out and his arms lying limp at his side. He looked so...resigned. All she wanted to do was run over and bury into his arms. Snuggle until the world faded away and it was just the two of them. But she pushed back the impulse. Touching him now would be selfish. He was obviously upset with her. Hurt that she would only talk to him after her visit from Claire. So instead she walked over and gingerly sat down beside him, making sure to keep a comfortable distance.

"Claire told me she forgives you," she said quietly.

He kept his eyes shut as he murmured, "She shouldn't have gone to see you."

His statement stung, but she ignored the pain and pushed on. "She also said you forgive her." When he didn't say anything, she added, "Is that true?"

He let out a deep sigh. "Does it really matter?"

"It does."

A few beats passed before he confessed, "I forgive her. I think deep down I have for a long time. I just didn't want to admit it."

"So you both forgive each other."

He opened one eye and glared at her. "You obviously have something to say. Just spit it out."

"I think the reason you're upset and this still bothers you is because the one person you haven't forgiven is yourself."

His eyes flew open. "Don't spout that psycho babble to me."

She gave him a look. "I'm serious. You made your amends, Talon. She absolved you. Now it's time to do the same."

He looked down at his shirt and clenched his hands. "I-I can't."

"You can."

"You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me. Make me understand."

"My grandfather was a hero. I looked up to him. Adored him." His eyes grew tormented. "He always taught me to do the right thing. No matter the consequence. I remember one time we were in line at the grocery store and the lady ahead of us let us cut in front of her because we only had a couple items and she had a cart full. When we went up to pay, the cashier congratulated us for being their one thousandth customer and gave us one thousand dollars." Talon smiled. "My grandpa wouldn't take it though. He said it didn't belong to him and gave it the lady behind us."

"Sounds like a good man."

"The best." His smile dimmed. "He also taught me that the only way to see the true measure of a man was to watch how he reacted when things didn't go his way. Said that's when people showed their true colors." He swallowed. "So what does that say about me?"

"Talon..."

"He'd be so disappointed. And I hate knowing that. I hate that I can't honor his memory, live the way he did."

"I think he would be proud of you."

He scoffed, a bitter expression crossing his face.

"He would," she told him. "It takes just as much courage to do the right thing as it does to admit you've done wrong. You could have buried your head in the sand and not take the blame, but you didn't. That takes guts and it sounds like your grandpa would appreciate that quality in a person."

"He would have," Talon admitted, bowing his head.

Her chest suddenly felt like it was going explode. Could she like this boy any more? There was so much goodness in him, so much the rest of the world didn't see. How was it that he could feel with such depth and keep it hidden?

She reached over hesitantly. When he didn't object, she covered his fist, letting her thumb trace the ridge of his knuckles. The skin was rough and uneven, football scars littering his hand. He tensed; ready to pull back, but she tightened her hold. He wasn't getting away, not this time.

Catching his gaze, she held it as she unfurled his fingers one by one till his hand lay open on his thigh. Heat flared between them as she stroked his palm, caressing the vulnerable skin.

"Forgive yourself. Let the past go," she pleaded.

He grabbed her wrist, stilling her hand. "Why do you care?"

"Because this guilt is hurting you." It was taking away his spark, his unique flair that made Talon, Talon. She was afraid if he kept blaming himself he would slowly fade.

He pulled on her wrist and instinctively she leaned into him, letting his body cradle hers. The raw heat between them skyrocketed as he lifted his other hand and placed it on her thigh.

"Is that the only reason?" She shivered at the need, the absolute want in his voice. It darkened his tone and made her think of crushed velvet.

"No," she whispered. Her breathing became ragged, as the air around them grew heavy. "I want you to let it go because it's in the way."

Her lips parted as his hand moved. In bold, possessive strokes, he massaged the outside of her thigh and slowly moved his way up to the curve of her hip. Each stroke seared her skin. Made her crazy for more.

"The way of what?" he asked, dropping his chin and letting his lips graze her neck. She shuddered as hot breaths whispered against her skin.

"You know what." She bit her lip to keep herself from moaning as he slid his hand up, following the graceful line of her spine. She arched her back and moved into his touch, luxuriating in the guttural groan that escaped his lips. Her hair caught in his fingers, but that didn't stop him. He embraced the silk strands, wrapping them around his hand as he slowly made his way up. His long, lithe fingers wrapped around the back of her neck, cradling the delicate curve.

"Tell me." His rough voice cut through the tension with as much subtlety as a dull blade.

"How about I show you instead?" she asked, not recognizing her own voice. It was thick and raspy and filled with lust. She would have been embarrassed if she hadn't seen Talon's eyes flare with interest.

She broke free of the grip he had on her wrist and slid her arms around his neck. Locking her hands together, she tilted her head and leaned forward. She lingered there for a moment, memorizing the feel of him, letting their breaths mingle together and combine. She wanted him to remember this kiss. Remember this moment.

The kiss was soft.

Timid.

A meeting filled with caution. Neither wanting to scare the other away.

He moved slowly at first, letting his lips drag over hers as they became reacquainted. When neither stopped the kiss, they started to relax, enjoying the feel of the other.

Their lips started to move with more force, the kiss becoming more heated. His hands tightened their hold on her body and she pushed herself against him, cinching them together in a tight embrace. She nipped his bottom lip playfully, sucking on the soft skin and he growled with desire. Deeping the kiss, he coaxed her lips apart and slipped inside.

A low moan filled the air.

The sound seemed to set him off. He crushed his mouth to hers, devouring her as if he was trying to absorb her very essence. She let her hands roam over his body, loving the way his skin rippled with pleasure.

"Talon," she breathed, kissing him back with so much longing. "I miss this. Miss you." She kissed him again. "Miss us."

He pulled back abruptly. "What did you say?"

She looked up at him through heavy lids, her mind still in a haze. "I miss us."

He dropped his hands as if she burned him. "There is no 'us.'"

Confused, she shook her head. "What are you talking about?"

He pushed her off of him and she fell onto the floor with thud. His phone slipped out of his pocket and landed next to her, but he was too busy wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to notice.

"I can't do this again," he said, getting to his feet. She took solace in the fact that there was a slightly choked quality to his voice. "I can't be an 'us.'"

Ice filled her veins. "Why not?" she asked, keeping her voice steady even though inside she was screaming in pain.

He didn't answer.

"Talon?" she asked, trembling.

Panic filled her as he looked down and gave her a long look. The bleakness in his expression worried her. It was too...too...final.

"I-I'm sorry. I just can't."

Then Keeley watched the boy she'd been kissing moments earlier stride across the room and out the door.

Shocked, her shoulders wilted and she fell against the wall. What the hell just happened? She thought they were moving on, making progress, but it felt like they took three giant steps back. Why did he freak out like that?

A word shimmered to the surface.

Self-preservation.

Was that what he was doing? Protecting himself from getting hurt again? She imagined what it would be like to be in his shoes. The first girl he really cared for cheated on him and then the second kept walking away.

Her heart leapt into her throat. Of course he was protecting himself. She would be wary too. She banged her head against the wall. What was she going to do now? She couldn't just give up. She refused too.

Clearly, he was gun shy and no amount of words was going to change that. But how could she get him to see that she was serious? That she wasn't going to walk away again?

Needing to think, she stretched out her legs and bumped into his phone. Picking it up, she stared at the familiar device, turning it over and over in her hands. How apt to run into the very thing that set this whole chain of events off.

That's when an idea hit.

The only way to get him to understand was to show him. She looked down at his phone.

And she had the perfect plan.

***