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She turns, wraps her arms around me, and kisses my neck, gasping and biting.

“Stay with me,” she whispers, rubbing my dick through my jeans. “I need you.”

She goes faster, moving my hand to her ass, and nibbling my jaw and licking my lips.

I breathe out, shaking my head clear. I want this. I want to yank what’s left off of her and see her on top of me. I want it all.

She whimpers, moving my hand to her breast, but the skin feels rough, or maybe it’s my hand and not her, but…

She fiddles with the door behind her, and before I know it, she’s opened it and is crawling into the back seat. Her breasts sit exposed, and she rubs the inside of her thigh, drawing attention to what’s underneath her bikini bottoms. Between her legs.

She licks and bites her lips, and I lean down, taking her face in my hand.

Kiss. I swallow. Inside her. Do it.

I can’t breathe.

Her mouth. Her breath. Wet. I envision it in my head. The image of me on top of her, kissing her and moving between her thighs, but…

Then it’s over and what then?

She kisses my mouth, sticking her tongue in. I go still. It’s cold.

I can’t fucking move.

No. Not in a car. I don’t want to just fucking throw down in the back seat of a car.

I yank her hands off me and stand up, closing my eyes, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look at these girls and see that pathetic look back.

I’m fucking broken. There’s something wrong with me. There’s so much I can’t…

“Get the fuck out of here,” I hear her say, interrupting my thoughts. Her voice is completely calm as if she knew this would happen again.

My eyes are still closed, but I know the look on her face. I’ve seen it ten times already.

I want to explain to her, but there’s nothing I can say I haven’t already said. She wants to have sex with her boyfriend. Like normal people do.

I can’t. I’m never gonna be able to do this.

I feel sick.

“You’re pathetic,” she says.

I turn and leave, the heat of her eyes, or my own fucking shame burning my back all the way to my car. I just want to be back at the hideout. Why did I leave? I shouldn’t have done this.

I thought I could prove something before she left for school.

I race home, park the car, and dive back into the hideout, the familiar cool of the cement walls and darkness a small comfort.

I can see. They can’t see. I’m safe.

I stalk down the hall, whipping off my hoodie and tossing it on the floor.

I need to get drunk. I don’t say that much, but fuck…

What happens if I can never do this? I want it. I know I fucking want it. I want a woman and kids and a life with someone someday. I don’t want to be alone forever.

Goddammit. I walk into the small kitchen, seeing Aro playing Grand Theft Auto V, doing that newbie thing where they move the controller in the direction they want their character to go. She holds the device above her head, jerking it right a few times, and I roll my eyes. I’m shocked she even knew how to start the PlayStation.

I grab a water from the fridge.

“Hey,” she says, hearing me and looking over her shoulder. “Where’d you go?”

I take a drink, swallowing half the bottle as she sets down her controller and walks over. She’s back in her black pants and T-shirt again, the outfit she wore underneath her hoodie and jacket to Rivertown that first night. Except now the clothes are clean.

Her eyes fall, and I follow her gaze, noticing the red lipstick on my collar.

“You saw her,” she says, but there’s something in her voice I can’t read.

“I was careful,” I assure her.

She stares at me, and I turn, digging an apple out of the basket on the counter.

A kernel of popcorn flies at me, hitting my chest. I look at her. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” she argues. “What happened?”

She wants to know if I fucked her? “None of your business,” I say.

She swings around the island, teasing. “Oh, come on. If you’re going to sneak out and put us in danger, at least entertain me.”

Put us in danger…

I set the apple and water down and move away from her, planting the island between us again. I place my hands on top of it, staring at her. “You first.”

She stares at me.

“Saw the cameras this morning,” I tell her. “Where’d you go last night?”

She clamps her mouth shut and turns away. “None of your business.”

Motherfucker. And I don’t know why, but I swipe my hands across the island, sending the metal bowl full of popcorn flying to the floor. It scatters, the bowl clanking across the cement, and she spins around, her eyes flaring.