19
Skye
Iwake up alone in Kevin’s bed. I don’t remember falling asleep. My body still feels heavy with exhaustion. I get out of bed, fabric rubbing against my newest cut, reminding me of the moment I was caught. The first time someone has laid eyes on my scars. As if I didn’t seem fucked up enough, I have to add self-mutilation to the ever-growing list of what’s wrong with me. It’s a damn scroll at this point.
I slip out of my pants, put on a fresh pair of jeans, and carry the bloodied ones into the living room. Kevin sits on the couch, dozing off with his head against his knuckle. He startles awake.
“Skye,” he says groggily. “What’re you doing?”
“Do you think the blood will come out of my pants?” I lift them to show him.
“Not a chance. Just toss ‘em. We can get a new pair.”
I sigh and place my favorite jeans in the garbage. I walk into the living room and sit on the chair, trying to curl my legs under me, but the painful cut changes my mind. He must have noticed me flinching, because he sits taller, his face concerned. I was sure he would have mentioned the “incident” by now.
“Do you want breakfast?” he asks instead.
“I’ll have a little of whatever you make.”
He stands up, wincing and touching his forehead as if he’s in pain.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I just drank a bit too much. That vice I told you about.” He smirks at me as he leaves to make food.
Bacon sizzles in the kitchen, and the smell of salty meat wafts over me. My stomach growls. Kevin comes back into the room with a plate of bacon and eggs, setting it down on my lap.
“Eat,” he says as he sits down and kicks his legs up.
I gulp down the bacon like a hungry wolf. The grease and salt taste like heaven in my mouth. We never ate this at home.
Once the bacon is gone, I stare at my eggs, contemplating if I want to eat them. I pick up a tiny sliver and shove it into my mouth. They go down with an uncomfortable gulp. I set the plate down and push it away from me. Kevin grabs it and finishes the leftover eggs.
“Thank you for eating,” he says with a smile as he puts his plate on top of mine and sets them on the coffee table.
Kevin lies down on the couch, covering his eyes with his arm. I stare at him. He’s still shirtless from last night. Tight muscles line his stomach, and a trail of brown hair leads beneath the waistband of his jeans. His hip bones tent his pants, a curve of darkness between them. What waits beneath the shadows? Why does he make me feel this way?
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Go crazy,” he says with a groggy voice, his arm still shielding his eyes from the light. “But not too crazy.”
“Will you have sex with me?”
Kevin sucks in a breath as he drops his arm away and looks at me, his eyebrows drawn tightly together. “Wh-what?”
“I just . . . I keep thinking about it. I’m eighteen and I feel like I’ve never had a positive sexual experience.”
“Hard no, Skye,” he says with tight lips.
The tone of my voice rises. “But I trust you. And I don’t trust anyone. I’m not asking you to be with me or anything. No strings attached.”
“There’s all the strings with you already. That’s one I’m not going to add.”
I pout my lips. “Please?”
“No! I’m not putting either of us in a situation that could go south. It’s just not right. I’m supposed to take care of you, not teach you how to fuck.”
The rising anger in his voice should turn me off, but his words make me weak. I feel a throb between my thighs. I cross my legs in response, trying to squelch the ache.
“Fine. I’m sure someone else can.”
His gaze jumps across the room and back onto me. His eyes narrow. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” That was definitely a low blow.
Kevin sits up, his posture rigid. “Oh, no, I heard you. That’s a pretty manipulative thing to say. If I don’t have sex with you, would you really try to find it somewhere else?”
“I don’t know. Maybe!” I cross my arms over my chest.
Kevin wipes his hand through his hair, taking a deep breath as he rubs the back of his neck. “I know you’re curious. I understand that, believe me. But I don’t think I’m what you need. Not like that.”
“Let me make that decision! Can we try? What’s the harm in trying?”
“You could get triggered. It could traumatize you further. Probably change the dynamic between us. I don’t think you understand the gravity of it. It’s not just having sex. You aren’t just someone I brought home from the bar for a quick fuck. You’re more—” He stops his sentence, as if trying to come up with the right words. “You’re special, Skye.”
My heart flutters against the wall of my chest. The throb becomes more unbearable, even with my legs crossed. I let a few moments pass before speaking. “I still want to try.”
“What if you freak out?”
“Then I freak out. We stop. That’s it.” I inhale sharply. Why is this such a damn production? “Your unwillingness to have sex with me solidifies that you’re the one I want to try it with.”
Kevin drops his head into his hands and groans. “When do you want to do this?”
I bite my lip, trying to control my excitement at his words. I don’t want to seem too desperate. Who am I kidding? This whole thing sounds desperate.
“Now?”
“Skye, I’m hungover as hell. I can’t do that right now. Plus, you need time to change your mind.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“I don’t even know if I can do that right now,” Kevin says with a groan as he rubs his head.
I walk to him and lie beside him on the couch. He wraps his arm around me, and I put my head on his bare chest. His heartbeat picks up speed until it becomes thunderous against my ear. I graze his stomach with my fingers, trailing them down until they’re lost within the soft hairs on his belly. His jeans adjust as he hardens, lifting the material away from him. The outline of his cock nearly pokes out of the top of his boxers.
“Looks like you can,” I say with a playful smile.
“For fuck’s sake. Yes, it's hard. How could it not be with you doing that?” He groans. “I’m annoyed with you. This isn’t going to be the sweet, romantic sex you want.”
I don’t know what I want.
Kevin sits up, climbs off the couch, and reaches out his hand. I grab it, letting him lead me toward the bedroom. I stare at the way his muscles move in his back with every step. I don’t know why I suddenly notice all these things about him, but I’m enjoying it.
He drags me into the room. After slamming the door, he pushes me against it and kisses me. His lips are hard and demanding. He devours my mouth like he needs me to breathe. There’s no hesitation in this kiss. Not like before. He smells like cologne with a hint of alcohol—an oddly intoxicating aroma. I can feel how hard he is against my lower belly, and I’m gripped by enough hesitation for both of us. I pull away from him for a moment, taking a step to the side.
“Skye?”
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I just need a moment.” Warmth floods my cheeks. I don’t want to mess this up. I can’t let this moment pass, because it might never come back.
I grab the waistband of his jeans, pulling myself closer. My lips are on his again. His hand slips around the back of my neck, pulling me deeper into him. An uncomfortable spasm of excitement rushes between my legs. Kevin growls, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him. He carries me to the bed and lays me down. He keeps his eyes locked on me as he hooks his fingers into my waistband.
“You sure about this?” he asks.