Page 44 of Scars of Anatomy

Everything

My heart nearly beats out of my chest when I spot Olivia, right where she said she’d be. She’s still in the same clothes from this morning, a pair of jeans with a dark-blue sweater, her ponytail swishing behind her as she paces in front of my door, nervously biting at the nail of her index finger.

Spinning around, she stops in her tracks as her eyes meet mine. Her shoulders drop, hands falling to her sides. She looks nervous, uncertain, but also relieved.

I take a step toward her, the feet between us feeling like miles. “Finch,” I breathe.

Tears mist her eyes as her bottom lip quivers. “Bronx,” she whispers, my name caught in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be sorry.”

I don’t need apologies. All I need is her.

From the look on her face, I know how sorry she is.

How confused and hurt she was, thinking I purposefully ditched her and cheated on her.

With all the evidence stacked against me, and my reputation, I know it was hard for her to believe me, but I always knew beneath the surface she clung to hope that I wasn’t that guy anymore. That I loved her.

But I don’t want to think about that any longer. Right now, all I want to do is hold her.

I extend my hand to her. “Come here.”

More than willing, she walks toward me, and I meet her halfway in three long strides, gathering her in my arms. I hold her tightly, her arms looping around my waist, holding me just as tight. Her soft vanilla scent engulfs me, soothing me, and I feel like I can breathe again.

Her body melts against mine, and I press my lips to the top of her head, savoring the feeling of her touch. When I lean back to look at her, those warm brown eyes are already looking up at me, full of longing.

Dipping my head, I press my lips to hers, kissing her softly, slowly.

I take my time with her, loving the way her lips and body feel against mine.

She must feel the same way, her hands sliding up my torso to my chest, one landing on my cheek while the other reaches the collar of my shirt, fingers curling inside, fisting the fabric and pulling me that much closer.

I let my tongue skim across her bottom lip and dip inside her mouth to sweep across her own, tasting her. She sighs in contentment but pulls away from the kiss, catching her breath.

I furrow my brow, afraid I moved too fast, scaring her off, but the thumb of her hand still resting on my cheek glides back and forth, soothing.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispers, and I’m suddenly aware that we’re in the middle of the hallway. Not that I care—almost everyone has left for the break already—and even if there were people still lingering around, I wouldn’t give a damn if they saw.

I take a deep breath, getting my head back on straight. The second I left Delilah’s to the time I reached the parking lot and walked inside the dorm has all been a blur, seeing Olivia the only thought crossing my mind.

Reluctantly, I let go of her to grab my keys and unlock the door, holding it open for her.

She walks in and crosses the room, standing in front of my desk as the door softly shuts behind us.

We stand facing each other, nervous energy suddenly humming between us, neither one of us knowing who should speak first.

Clearing my throat, I shrug off my jacket and lay it over the top of my dresser, leaning back against the door. I long to touch her, but I give her space, give her the option to come to me. I don’t want to fuck this up.

She fidgets, nervously picking at the skin at the edge of her fingernail. “I’m sorry,” she says softly, sincerely, her voice cutting through the silence.

I push off the door, standing up straight. “You don’t have to apologize.”

She shakes her head, eyes looking up to capture mine. “No, I do,” she insists, and tears prick her eyes again. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” she whispers painfully.

Unable to not touch her, I cross the room and wrap her back up in my arms, her cheek resting against my chest.

“When she came into class wearing your hoodie, saying those things, I—” The words get caught in her throat. “Then in class and the night before the final, you were saying I wouldn’t even need you, and I thought—”

I kiss the top of her head reassuringly before pulling back, taking her face in my hands so I can look her in the eyes. “I get it,” I admit painfully. As much as I hate it, I understand. I have a shitty past. Mix that with Adrianna’s master plan, and I probably wouldn’t have believed me either.

I should have known the levels that Adrianna would stoop to to get back at me. I know how twisted and manipulative she can be, and I was a fool to believe that she would only hurt me. But of course, Olivia was collateral damage in her and Rat Boy’s grand scheme.

“I know I don’t have the best track record, that I have a lot going against me, but just know from here on out I would never do something like that to you,” I vow, swallowing thickly. “I meant what I said, Finch. I’m in love with you, and I don’t plan on losing you anytime soon.”

Her eyes soften, looking at me with longing and need.

Slowly, I dip my head to gently press my lips to hers in a long, sweet kiss, pulling back and resting my forehead against hers.

“I love you too,” she whispers, causing my heart to jump.

I pull back, searching her eyes for any hesitancy, fraud. All I can find is truth. She’s not saying this just to say it back. She means it.

I lean back down and crash my lips to hers, kissing her passionately, communicating just how much hearing those words means to me.

To not only love someone but have someone love me back feels good.

Exhilarating, even. It feels like a sense of security I’ve never had before.

Something I know I can only have with her.

After some time, we both pull away to catch our breath.

“So what happens now?” she asks, looking up at me with those big brown eyes.

I don’t know if she means in general or between us, but I reply, covering all the bases.

“Well, Brennen said the school should be contacting me soon to get a statement and see if I want to press charges,” I say carefully, gauging her reaction, but I don’t detect any sort of objection.

“I know they’re going after him, but I’m not sure about Adrianna.

” I don’t know how much evidence there is to make her an accomplice.

She nods, absorbing everything.

“And as far as us, I’m still yours, if you want me.”

She looks at me with so much affection it hurts. “Of course I do,” she says, placing her hand on my cheek and standing on her tiptoes to seal her lips to mine. “I want all of you . . . the good, the bad, everything,” she breathes between kisses.

And just like that, I fall all in. One hundred and ten percent, without a doubt, this girl owns me.

I thread my fingers through her hair, deepening the kiss, and I take a step forward, causing her to take a step back. The backs of her thighs press against my desk, and she sits on top of the wood surface, spreading her knees to allow me to stand between them.

I remind myself to take it slow, to be gentle. I didn’t plan on this escalating to anything more than a kiss, but when her fingers run down my torso and sneak under my shirt, touching my bare skin, those thoughts fly out the window real quick.

I don’t dare remove my shirt, not wanting to accidentally misread her actions and move too fast. But when she inches the fabric up, tugging at it, I think I’m reading her cues pretty well.

My lips only briefly break contact with hers as I reach behind me and grab the collar of my shirt, tugging it up and off. The second my shirt hits the floor her cool, delicate fingers brush across my naked skin, setting it on fire.

I groan into her mouth, grabbing her thighs and pulling her closer to the edge of the desk so our bodies are pressed against each other. My fingers itch to reach for the fabric of her sweater but I don’t, wanting and needing her to be the one to willingly escalate things fully.

“Bronx.” She breathes my name against my lips, the tiniest whine in her tone.

“Yeah?”

Damn. Why does my voice sound so rough?

Instead of using her words, she places her hands over mine, skimming them up her thighs. When my fingertips graze the hem of her sweater, I pull back.

“You sure?” I ask, breathless, my heart hammering in my chest.

She looks up at me with hazy eyes, then her gaze drifts over to my bed. “Yes.”

Hands practically shaking, I grab the hem of her sweater and tug it up. She raises her arms, allowing me to slip the fabric up and over her head, revealing a simple white T-shirt underneath.

She pulls me in for a searing kiss, her fingers raking through my hair. I grab the backs of her thighs, lifting her and carrying her the few steps to my bed, gently laying her down.

I crawl on top of her, one hand pressed into the mattress near her head while the other rests on her hip, slowly creeping up and under the thin fabric of her T-shirt, my fingers grazing her soft, warm skin.

“Wait.” She pulls away from the kiss, breathless, her hand shooting down to capture my wrist.

I freeze automatically, pulling away. Looking down at her, her eyes land anywhere but mine.

“We don’t have to do this, Finch,” I assure her, afraid everything is happening too fast.

“I know. But I want to. I just—can we . . .” She takes in a deep breath, her eyes finally meeting mine. “Can I keep my shirt on?” she asks shyly, her cheeks flaring red.

“Baby, you have nothing to worry about,” I promise softly, brushing some hair out of her face. “You’re perfect.”

She looks at me, eyes hesitant, and it breaks my heart that she would be so insecure about her body. But I won’t push her. I’ll gladly accept whatever she’s willing to give me and fully cherish her with zero questions asked.