Page 40
Story: Mess With Me
I relax slightly, trying to close my eyes.
But it’s impossible to fully relax with her only inches from me now, knowing there’s only the thin layer of cotton of her T-shirt between us.
I curse the hormones making my whole body tense.Donotthink about her like that, you fuck. Not after what she’s been through.
“This is better, right?” she whispers.
It does feel better having her within arm’s reach for safety purposes. But it’s doing a fucking number on that effort to keep my feelings out of this. “Yes,” I manage, not convinced.
She’s quiet so long I think she might have fallen asleep.
Eyes adjusted to the dark, I turn my head to see if her eyes are closed.
They are. She’s curled on her side, her face toward me. I’m just trying to determine whether she’s asleep when she whispers, “Griff?”
Shit. I look back at the ceiling. “Yes.”
“Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”
My heart twists, and, too concerned for her to think better of it, I turn all the way to face her. I don’t know if she’s talking about Creelman or the man who came for her. It doesn’t matter. “It’s normal.”
“I should never have agreed to that date. He just—Sam said it was life or death. What if now—”
“Sasha. Did you talk to your brother after that…night?” I can’t bring myself to say date.
Her eyes open, meeting mine. “Just by text. He heard about the fire. Not that he seemed all that concerned about my safety.”
“He’s alive.”
“What, my brother? Yes, he’s alive.”
“So it’s not life or death.”At least not yet.But I don’t say that last part out loud.
“I guess.”
“You’re alive, too.”
I hear the faint click of her mouth, like she’s swallowing. “Yes.”
There are any number of things I could say. Platitudes Lionel’s ex-wife had framed all over their house. Constructive ideas from the psych at McCrae I’ve heard a hundred times. Instead, I hesitate for only a second before reaching out and taking her hand from where it curls under her chin. I press it to my shoulder, setting aside all my own feelings. “I’m this far away. If you wake up in the night, I’m right here.”
“Can you stay here all night?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t leave me alone?”
It’s funny, with a family as big as ours, I always had people around me. And until this moment, I thought I always wanted to be alone. But I never really did. And I never really was. They were always there for me. Still are. What would it feel like not to have that? Not to be able to count on the ones you love the most?
“I won’t leave you alone,” I say, my voice rough.
I let her go but leave her hand where it is, giving her the option to retract it.
She drops her hand, and my shoulder aches with the loss of it.
But then her hand snakes out across the mattress, sliding under mine where it rests. “Goodnight, Griff.”
I close my hand around hers. It feels so small and soft, but it fits perfect under my palm.
But it’s impossible to fully relax with her only inches from me now, knowing there’s only the thin layer of cotton of her T-shirt between us.
I curse the hormones making my whole body tense.Donotthink about her like that, you fuck. Not after what she’s been through.
“This is better, right?” she whispers.
It does feel better having her within arm’s reach for safety purposes. But it’s doing a fucking number on that effort to keep my feelings out of this. “Yes,” I manage, not convinced.
She’s quiet so long I think she might have fallen asleep.
Eyes adjusted to the dark, I turn my head to see if her eyes are closed.
They are. She’s curled on her side, her face toward me. I’m just trying to determine whether she’s asleep when she whispers, “Griff?”
Shit. I look back at the ceiling. “Yes.”
“Every time I close my eyes, I see him.”
My heart twists, and, too concerned for her to think better of it, I turn all the way to face her. I don’t know if she’s talking about Creelman or the man who came for her. It doesn’t matter. “It’s normal.”
“I should never have agreed to that date. He just—Sam said it was life or death. What if now—”
“Sasha. Did you talk to your brother after that…night?” I can’t bring myself to say date.
Her eyes open, meeting mine. “Just by text. He heard about the fire. Not that he seemed all that concerned about my safety.”
“He’s alive.”
“What, my brother? Yes, he’s alive.”
“So it’s not life or death.”At least not yet.But I don’t say that last part out loud.
“I guess.”
“You’re alive, too.”
I hear the faint click of her mouth, like she’s swallowing. “Yes.”
There are any number of things I could say. Platitudes Lionel’s ex-wife had framed all over their house. Constructive ideas from the psych at McCrae I’ve heard a hundred times. Instead, I hesitate for only a second before reaching out and taking her hand from where it curls under her chin. I press it to my shoulder, setting aside all my own feelings. “I’m this far away. If you wake up in the night, I’m right here.”
“Can you stay here all night?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t leave me alone?”
It’s funny, with a family as big as ours, I always had people around me. And until this moment, I thought I always wanted to be alone. But I never really did. And I never really was. They were always there for me. Still are. What would it feel like not to have that? Not to be able to count on the ones you love the most?
“I won’t leave you alone,” I say, my voice rough.
I let her go but leave her hand where it is, giving her the option to retract it.
She drops her hand, and my shoulder aches with the loss of it.
But then her hand snakes out across the mattress, sliding under mine where it rests. “Goodnight, Griff.”
I close my hand around hers. It feels so small and soft, but it fits perfect under my palm.
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