Page 43

I wake up in a cold bed.

Again. Amos and I have been “living” together for a month now, but we barely see each other and not because we are busy doing different things around campus.

Amos is actively trying to avoid me.

Why? I have no idea.

My overthinking brain works nonstop day in and day out, trying to remember if I said anything to hurt him.

Then the intrusive thoughts that I’m not good in bed or we were only meant to be a summer fling slip into my mind.

Even though I know these couldn’t be any farther from the truth, doubt has taken root like a stubborn weed.

As much as I try to pull it from the foundation of my mind, it keeps growing back.

Usually Amos comes to our room in the evenings, falling to our bed in exhaustion after taking a shower.

He didn’t come home last night though.

I stayed up late into the night waiting for him.

And now, just before the sun crests over the surrounding tree lined hills, Amos is nowhere in sight.

The hollowness I feel is another reminder of how lonely I’ve been feeling since we moved in together.

What baffles me is that Amos wanted this.

Amos asked if I wanted to move in with him.

My silly, naive, love-drunk self thought nothing of it.

All I could think of was how much alone time I’d get with Amos.

Having unlimited access to his mouth, dick, and hands—now only his one hand.

We haven’t had much sex since becoming a couple.

I didn’t think much about it, even after moving in with him because he’d just been through a trauma that I know needs time to heal.

And now? I feel like discarded leftovers, even though I still love him.

I still want him. I still need him.

Grunting my frustration, I roll out of bed.

After checking the bathroom for any signs he was here, I put on a pair of linen shorts and a tank top.

The August heat blisters in the early morning, making it miserable even indoors.

Though we have electricity here at The Valley, we have to conserve every bit we generate ourselves from the solar panels just outside the campus walls.

We don’t have enough to turn the AC on.

After pulling on some socks and a pair of running shoes, I make my way out, setting off for a morning jog instead of going to the gym.

The idea of running into Amos there has my stomach in knots.

I haven’t missed a day of training since I’ve been here, but I just can’t bring myself to go today.

Maybe my absence will spark a reminder that I exist. Maybe he’ll miss me if I take a turn to avoid him .

I jog across the bridge that leads to the other half of campus.

Turning left to avoid getting close to the sports center, I head directly for the health center.

My mom is exactly where I expected, on the terrace with a cup of tea in hand.

Even on the hottest days, my mom will still drink a hot cup of tea.

I hope she’s ready for the day when there will be no more tea in stock.

I wave up to her as I enter the building, turning swiftly toward the stairs leading her way.

To my surprise, she has another cup of tea waiting beside her.

“Are you expecting someone, Mom?”

“Just you,” she says with an uncomfortable smile.

“Uh oh, did I do something wrong?” I sit next to her at the small round table, grabbing the warm cup of tea in my hand and cautiously take a sip.

“No. I just thought you might want to talk. I’ve noticed that you and Amos haven’t been spending a lot of time together. Is everything all right?”

So it’s obvious.

I mean, of course it’s obvious.

Amos doesn’t sit with me at meal times anymore.

We don’t go on walks.

We don’t train together.

I look out at the view of The Valley, glowing in the early morning light.

“He’s just busy.”

“Hmmm.” My mom takes a sip of her tea before putting it down.

“But he’s not. He doesn’t go out on patrol any more. Kyle has been helping more during training. If anything, Amos has less to do here than ever before. I think that is making him anxious.”

“Amos? Anxious?” I test the two words I never thought I’d say together as my mom nods.

Perhaps she’s right.

Amos’ injury was life-changing and in this limiting world, it’ll be difficult for him to adjust. “Then why won’t he talk to me? He’s barely said two words to me in weeks.”

“Have you spoken to him?” my mom asks.

“I’ve tried. He just…deflects. He was always so open with me before. Maybe he is regretting moving in with me.”

“Now that’s a thought we are going to toss right out. You are still thinking about yourself in this scenario. Have you thought about him at all? What he is going through?”

“Of course I have. I’ve been trying to help him in any way I can.”

“What about helping him in the way he needs?”

“I’m trying. Or are you saying I’m being too overbearing or not overbearing enough?”

“I didn’t say any such thing. But if that’s the thought that comes to mind, perhaps you’re thinking too much.”

I take another sip of the tea, which is still hot to the touch.

Talking to my mom is making some gears turn in my head.

There is a gear that keeps getting stuck on not understanding why Amos would be so cold and distant toward me.

Was I being overbearing?

I don’t think so. Maybe.

I was only trying to help.

Taking care of him. Isn’t that what couples do for each other?

“Can I spend the morning here, mom?” I ask, deciding it would be best to maintain my distance if that’s what Amos needs right now.

“Don’t you have training now?”

“Yes, but I just don’t feel like going today. Is that okay?”

My mom smiles, saying, “Absolutely. I’ll write you a sick note.”

I spend all morning assisting my mom in the health center, cleaning minor cuts and scrapes, mopping up vomit, and even helping Norman put together a new machine the scouting patrol found last week.

When I ask him what it is, he only shrugs.

I’m so emotionally capped I don’t bother pestering him for answers.

Honestly, I just don’t care.

By the afternoon, I’m starving, so I say farewell to my mom, kissing her on the cheek, and make my way back to the part of campus where it is thrumming with life.

Kids are out in the quad playing tag and kicking a soccer ball around.

As I walk by the gazebo next to the cafeteria building, I spot a young couple making out under its shade.

My heart aches, missing Amos, missing his kisses as if I’ve had them my whole life.

My feet turn on their own, sprinting back over the bridge and into the sports center.

I run down the long hallway until I reach the gym.

The unit I usually train with in the mornings is nowhere in sight, which makes sense because it’s lunchtime.

Kyle is still there though, cleaning up the equipment.

“Is Amos around?” I ask sheepishly.

“Yeah, I think he’s in his office.” Kyle barely looks up at me as if I’ve got some affliction that makes everyone want to forget my existence.

“Got it.” I grunt at the dismissal.

Instead of going straight out of the gym like I usually do, I turn left, heading down a smaller hallway.

The hallway ends with two choices.

Stairs going up or an entrance into the basketball court.

I choose the stairs.

The offices up here all have glass walls, making it easy to see if any are occupied.

When I spot Amos sitting on the edge of his desk, my heart skips a beat.

How does this man affect me so much?

I’m supposed to be mad at him and yet I just want to hold him in my arms. Wait, am I supposed to be mad at him?

Remembering what my mom said, I try to see through Amos’ eyes, feel what he’s feeling.

The anxiety of living in a dangerous world with only one arm.

The fear of not being able to protect…

me?

Taking a deep breath, I step into his office, tapping on the door to let him know I’m here.

The sound startles him, but when he turns around, the surprise on his face melts into something I can only describe as depressing.

He’s not happy to see me.

He doesn’t want me here.

I need to know why.

“Can I come in?” I ask politely.

“Seems like you already are.” Amos turns his attention back to the wall where a large map hangs.

Pins hold up strings, making some sort of route or pattern.

I didn’t come in here to look at a map though.

“What’s wrong, Amos?”

“Not now, Lori.” He dismisses me so quickly, his tone already getting aggressive.

“Yes now. I told you I wouldn’t let you push me away. So stop and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Lori, please.”

I walk around the desk, placing my body in between him and the map.

“If I’ve done something wrong, I need to know.”

Amos doesn’t answer, only shakes his head, keeping his gaze away from mine.

But I can see it. See him struggle to keep his face clear of emotion.

See him shake away the tears that threaten to weaken his stubbornness.

And I swear I can hear his heart pounding against his chest.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been too overbearing or not helping enough. If I’ve made you feel any less than you are. I want to take care of you. I want to be there for you. But if you need me to take a step back, I will. Just don’t push me out.” Still more silence.

“Amos.”

“I’m sorry I put us in this situation. I’ll speak to Anna and have our things moved back to our separate rooms. We should have never moved in together. We barely know each other. Anna only approved our application because of our—my—circumstances. She felt bad for me and saw how much you cared.”

“If you are going to lie to me, then look me in the eyes when you do it.”

Amos lifts those beautiful golden eyes, piercing me with his gaze.

He can’t lie to me, not when I can see how his eyes are filled with sorrow.

His mouth quivers as he attempts his lie again.

But something shifts in his demeanor, his eyes glowing with a dark shimmer of rage.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Lori? The shadow of the man you loved. This weak shell of a person who can’t even lift a fucking box on his own. I’m useless. I can’t protect you. I can’t provide for you. I can’t even pleasure you properly. Useless. Worthless. Piece of shit.”

Whoa.

It’s worse than I imagined.

But instead of giving him pity, an act of sympathy I hate from others, I give him anger.

“Are you angry because of what I think of you or what you think of yourself? Because you’re right. You couldn’t even find the courage to dump me properly. You abandoned me in our new home. Left me to think I had done something wrong. If you think you are worthless, what does that make me? The worthless girlfriend of a cripple?”

Okay, maybe I went too far with that last comment, but I need to spark something inside him that will fight back.

Because the man I know would not give up without a fight.

“Lori,” Amos growls.

“No. I told you I wouldn’t let you push me away. If this is what you want, I will push right back.”

And I do.

I punch Amos in the face with every ounce of strength within me.

He goes down hard, caught off guard.

Inside, I want to cry as he closes his eyes in pain.

I use the advantage and jump on top of him.

“If you are so weak, I bet you can’t even throw me off your crippled body.” Every word comes out like a knife slicing into his beautiful brown skin.

I don’t mean to break him.

I want to wake him up from this pitiful nightmare he’s stuck himself inside.

And yet the hurt in his eyes is so real, so visceral.

Just when I’m about to dismount and apologize, Amos curls his amputated arm around my waist enough to secure me to his chest as he spins us around.

The air is knocked out of my lungs, leaving me vulnerable for a moment as I gather myself together.

Amos pins my hips down with his and it takes everything inside me not to wrap my legs around his ass and push up against him.

Not to attempt an escape, but because of the need I have for any kind of friction.

Our eyes lock on each other, anger quickly dissolving into something else.

This is my opening, my one chance to bring him back to me.

“You are no less the man you were because you are not physically whole. You are more. I don’t need to be protected. I don’t need you to take care of me. I just need you.”

I watch as a tear breaks from the surface of Amos’ golden eyes, sliding down his chiseled face.

It drips onto my cheek, following the path of my own tears.

My breath catches when I look into his eyes, seeing the rawness of his love for me.

As Amos dips his head closer to mine, I whisper, “You make me come like no one else can. You make me feel everything in a way that terrifies and delights me. I will never leave you. I could never leave you.”

The door to his office swings open and Jonah waltzes in like he owns the place, not noticing us until Amos shouts, “Get out!”

“Oh shit! Sorry, Amos.” Jonah freezes, seeing the full picture of our situation.

His voice cracks when he says my name.

“Lori?”

As Jonah takes a step back through the door, he steps on Kyle’s foot, who then bumps into Olivia.

Amos pushes himself up with his good arm.

The movement pushes another part of him against me, making me squeeze my thighs against his hips.

He grunts at the pressure, then whips his head over to our unexpected audience and shouts, “Everyone get the fuck out!”

The three of them rush out, slamming the door behind them.

To my dismay, Amos pushes himself out from in between my thighs, standing up with grace.

Just as the last piece of my heart breaks at the rejection, I hear Amos rushing to close the blinds against the glass walls of his office.

I perch myself onto my elbows, watching him struggle with the last one.

A satisfied smile creases the side of his face as he wins the war with the blinds.

Then he turns his eyes on me.

Every step he takes in my direction shatters me until I’m quivering beneath him.

When he holds his hand out to me, I take it.

A giddy yelp escapes from my mouth as he pulls me up so quickly I practically jump into his arms. His whole arm secures me against him as he walks us over to his desk.

Amos places me on top of the papers scattered over his desk and I keep him in place between my legs.

He presses his forehead against mine as he says, “I’m sorry, Lori. I’m so sorry.”

“Talk later. Fuck now.” The heat of him against my body has me feeling desperate and needy.

The same feeling I had after we jumped into the car after being chased by a horde of freshies.

I need Amos inside me.

Right now.

His lips smash against mine with that same need.

His tongue seeking entry I all too willingly grant.

A moan of delight falls from Amos’ mouth to mine and I answer with my own.

In a swooping moment, I’m on my back, legs up and pressed against Amos’ hard body.

I help him pull down his shorts, then he grabs the waistband of mine, pulling them over my knees.

He dips a finger inside me, testing my readiness.

And, oh, how ready I am for him.

“Holy fuck, Lori. You are soaking my fingers already.”

“Did I mention I need you?” I grab his hips and pull him into me.

We groan in unison as he fills every inch of space and I hold on for dear life as he plows in and out.

His thrusts are wild and untamed.

Going deeper and deeper.

Yet I still need more of him.

“Amos!” I shout as he stops abruptly to pull my shorts all the way off my legs.

He wraps my legs around his hips, allowing me to lock him in place.

Then he licks that glorious thumb of his before pressing it down on my clit, making me arch into him.

He resumes his thrusting attack, circling my clit as he pounds into me.

I know I’ll have bruises from this brute show of strength and power, but I don’t care.

I welcome the bruises even though they’ll fade within an hour.

But the feeling of him inside, that will leave a lasting imprint for ages.