Page 30 of Beyond the Cage

I tip my face up to his and he places a lingering kiss on my forehead. Pair that with the agonizing look in his eyes and it feels a lot like goodbye. I hope I’m reading him wrong. God, I pray it doesn’t mean what I think it does.

“I’ll text you later.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me, only shoving his hands into his pockets. I release him and head inside, stopping at the entrance to glance back at him. He’s watching me, an unreadable expression on his face. I wave and step inside the building, trying to shake the uneasy feeling I have.

Inside the apartment, I hear Chelsea’s shower running; at least I don’t have to deal with her right away. Besides, I need to change. After undressing, I slip into panties and a bra.

“Oh, my God!” Chelsea shrieks from the doorway.

She’s still wrapped in a towel, storming in with a horrified look on her face.

“What the hell happened?” she demands. “What did that bastard do to you? I’m gonna fucking kill him!”

“Calm down, Chels. It’s not what you think.”

“Oh, so you’renotcovered in bruises?”

“I didn’t get them the way you think I did.”

I smile as she trails her fingers across the spots on my breasts. “Thosearen’t bruises.”

“You mean…this happened during sex?” she asks in an incredulous tone.

I take a deep breath and look to the ceiling with a dreamy expression. “Amazing, incredible, awesome, mind-blowing, toe-curling sex.”

“Well, damn.”

“I guess he just…got a little carried away.”

“I’ll say.”

She drops down on my bed as I search my closet for a top with long sleeves.

“He was really upset about them. Wouldn’t even touch me this morning. I kinda got the feeling I won’t see him again.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s scared he’ll hurt me…physically. You didn’t see the look on his face when he saw them.”

“I take it you don’t want that to happen? You want to keep seeing him?”

“Yeah…but I’m not going force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. What happens next is up to him.”

I step into the bathroom to fix my hair and makeup, and she goes back to her room.

After my first class, I send Cameron a text.

Jasmine: Up for another all-nighter, Grandpa?

Yeah…like he’s the one who couldn’t keep up. He doesn’t reply, and I try not to let it get to me. I send him a few more during the day, but still nothing. I leave work at 7 p.m., and I still haven’t heard from him. Either he hasn’t seen my messages or he’s avoiding me. Whatever it is, I’m not sending any more; I’ll give him space to work out whatever it is he needs to work out.

At home, I wrap some ice in a towel, place it on my bruises, and pop two painkillers. Bruise care 101 – ice for the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I need to wait two days before I can take my much-needed hot bath.

***

Three weeks. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen or heard from Cameron. I haven’t tried to contact him either, even though I miss him like crazy. I poured myself into working, volunteering, studying…pulling all-nighters and surviving on an hour or two of sleep. It’s the only way Icouldsleep – collapsing from sheer exhaustion. If I didn’t keep busy, all I did was think about him. It was the worst at night. The moment I climbed into bed, I would imagine him next to me. It wasn’t even sexual; I just wanted to curl up next to him, put my head on his chest, and have him wrap his arm around me. I wanted to listen to his breathing, his heartbeat…have him stroke my arm. Okay, I’ll admit I’ve had more than a few dreams about our last night together. But now, finals are almost over. I only have one more to go. What am I going to do after that?

Chelsea tries her best to cheer me up. Her finals are over and she’s been foregoing her own private life to babysit me, having movie nights and girls’ nights. Tonight is movie night. I have no clue what we’re even watching.