Page 83

She licks her ice cream spoon, then holds it out to me. “I’m done.”
I take the ice cream back to the freezer and shove her spoon in the dishwasher, wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to say to her when I get back to the living room.
Glancing down at my soaking wet jeans, I pull those off, throwing them into the laundry room with my wet T-shirt. I’ll deal with those in the morning. Darting upstairs, I throw on some sweats and grab a dry hoodie—my softest one—before heading down to the girl I want wearing my clothes.
Damn, I hope those painkillers kick in fast. The thought that she’s hurt is like a knife between my ribs. I fucking did that.
“Shit, I fucking made her cry.” I grip the railing and grit my teeth against the roar that wants to burst out of me.
The urge to bolt out the door and ride my bike through the rain is nearly overpowering. But I can’t leave Nylah, so I force my sorry ass into the living room. Leaning against the archway frame, I study her for a moment. Her eyes are closed, her hand resting on her forehead. She’s breathing very intentionally, and I’m guessing it’s some kind of tactic to manage the pain.
Fuck. I wince, shame riding through me—a scorching reminder that Fleischer might be a dick, but I really am an asshole too.
“Are you just gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna come sit down?”
My eyes dart back to her face, and there’s that smile again, drawing me in, that teasing glint in her eyes a fucking siren song.
I shuffle to the couch, draping my hoodie over the top of her like a blanket. That’s fucking better. Lifting her legs, I take a seat, then settle them over my lap.
Resting one hand on her thigh and one on her shin, I try to make sure I’m not putting pressure where it shouldn’t be.
“This okay?” I check.
She nods and rests her head back against the cushions. Her gaze is sure and steady. She should be glaring at me, but her eyes are bright and beautiful as usual, her lips twitching like I’m her favorite form of entertainment.
I cringe and look away from her, clenching my jaw so tight it hurts.
“Hey.” She softly trails her hand down my arm. “It’s okay. My anger has subsided.”
“It’s not okay.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m so fucking sorry I made you cry.”
A soft laugh pops out of her, and I whip my head to give her an incredulous frown. I’m trying to apologize here, and she’s laughing at me?
The sound fades away, her smile turning soft. “You didn’t make me cry. You pissed me off, but you didn’t make me cry.”
I give her a skeptical frown. “You were crying. When I caught up to you, those weren’t just raindrops on your face.”
She looks out toward the window. The curtains are closed, but raindrops are steadily hitting the glass behind us. Thankfully, the lightning and thunder have moved on. She seemed really scared being out there. I get it. Storms can be shit. We don’t get many at this time of year, but occasionally a freak weather system will form over Colorado. Hopefully tonight is just a one-off thing.
“It was the rain.” Her voice is husky… croaky… and I can tell she’s fighting a big ol’ lump in her throat.
Running my fingers lightly up her shin, I pinch the fabric of the sweatpants and can feel the serious turn this conversation is about to take. But I can’t just bail, right? I owe it to her to sit here in whatever discomfort I have to.
“The rain?” I finally reply.
She nods with a sad sigh, and I want to make some kind of sarcastic comment or tell a really shitty joke just to break this tension. But I can’t think of anything. All I can do is stare at her haunted expression and brace myself.
“I was at a party. It was just before graduation, and we were celebrating the end of the school year.” She swallows. “I was running late for my curfew and pissed off that I couldn’t just stay at the party like everybody else. I wanted to crash on the floor for the night, you know?”
I nod, my throat swelling when she sniffs, her eyes glassing over.
“But I didn’t want to get in trouble, so I sped home. It was raining, and I was going too fast for the conditions. I spun out and went right off the road, rolled the car, smashed up the front.”
I picture her tumbling down an embankment, my chest hurting at the fear she must have felt in that moment.
“No one could see me from the road, so I was stuck there for hours, and the rain got really heavy and a storm came through. The thunder and lightning felt like it was right on top of me, and I was just stuck there—in agony—thinking I was gonna die.” She closes her eyes, and a few tears pop off her lashes and start rolling down her cheeks.
I quickly reach out, swiping those tears away before they cut my heart right out.