They Said He Hated Clingy Girls—So I Stopped… And He Didn’t Like It Chapter 01

They Said He Hated Clingy Girls—So I Stopped… And He Didn’t Like It Chapter 01

I’d always been clingy. That night, like most nights, I was curled around my boyfriend, trying to steal a goodnight kiss.

Then the comments appeared, scrolling across my vision.

[Can’t the second lead take a hint? The male lead has been dodging her for weeks.] [The male lead is avoidant and hates being touched. She’s just setting herself up for heartbreak.]

[PSA: the male lead needs someone like the female lead, not this.]

[Don’t stress — the real female lead shows up soon. This one’s getting ditched.]

I went still. Slowly, I unwound my arms from around his neck.

Blaine Carter lifted his head. There was a guarded look in his eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice was tight and strained.

***

Something twisted in my chest. I couldn’t quite make myself look at him.

I lowered my eyes and curled my fingers into the sheets. “I’m tired,” I whispered.

He looked at me for a beat, then another. Whatever he saw on my face, it must not have given me away.

He turned over. “Go to sleep,” he said, his voice flat and clipped.

I stared at his back. A bitter knot formed in my stomach.

I got up and turned off the light. When I climbed back into bed, still turning those comments over in my mind, I kept to the very edge of the mattress — as far from him as I could get.

I didn’t reach for him. If he already resented how clingy I was, I wasn’t going to make it worse. Maybe keeping my distance would make him hate me a little less.

In the dark, I lay there listening to his steady breathing behind me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the words I’d seen.

Deep down, beneath all that wanting, I’d always known the truth — Blaine didn’t love me.

He’d been distant from the very beginning, and he’d always flinched at my touch.

And I — I’d wanted to be with him every minute of every day.

He never said anything. But every time I got too close, his jaw would tighten and his brow would crease, his whole body screaming me what he would never say out loud.

I’d willfully ignored all of it. I’d even told him I was afraid to live alone, lying to his face just to get him to let me move in.

Then I’d pushed even further and weaseled my way into his bedroom. Every night, I wrapped myself around him like I could keep him from slipping away.

He’d always let me, but his first instinct was always to pull back. I’d wanted him so badly I’d turned a blind eye to it all.

Maybe the comments were right.

The thought sat heavy in my gut. The longer I lay there, the worse it got.

Sleep evaded me for a long time.