I can’t believe I’m here. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing at this place. I never come to Ash’s grave. Can’t fucking do it, but instead of going home after leaving Delaney’s house, I just drove. The whole time I told myself this wasn’t where I was going, but I’m here, so it’s only another lie to add to the million I tell myself every day.
My weak ass still can’t get out of the car. My eyes burn and not from getting hit in one of them. My mind rides the smoke to the little boy in the grave. The one who loved me. Me. He didn’t look at me like he wished I was man enough to save him like Mom did. Didn’t look at me with disgust like Dad. Didn’t know he needed to save me like Angel. He believed in me for no other reason than the fact that I was me.
And I’d shattered that to fucking pieces. Didn’t take it seriously. I cared too much about living my own life for the first time and waiting for my friends and partying, like I do now, to protect him.
Get out of the car, get out of the car, get out of the car.
I can’t even make myself do that. So instead I read my stupid fucking book like I always do. Remember reading to him like he even knew what the hell The Count even was. Another way I screwed up with him. Why the hell would I read a book like that to a kid? Didn’t matter that I cherry-picked what I read. I still did it.
When it’s painfully obvious I’ve failed him again, I start my car and drive back home. Angel’s birthday is coming up. I wonder what she’s doing. If she’ll be with whoever that guy was at the cemetery with her. I know that as much as Delaney’s brother pissed me off this morning, I would have done the same thing if some bastard had been with Angel. That’s what family does—they protect. He’s doing a hell of a lot better than I do. It’s good he chased me out of there today. I don’t need to let myself get close to a girl with problems. I have my own and I’m doing a shitty job of taking care of them.
Once I get home, I put the water in the shower as hot as I can handle it, letting myself stand under the spray until cold starts to take over. My body aches from her brother shoving me into the wall. Tiredness lives in my bones now, swims in the marrow, and I can’t ever seem to get it out of my system.
My cell rings, Colt’s number lighting up, but I don’t answer it. I put money on it being Cheyenne and I don’t want to play the friend game with her today. Don’t want to remember seeing the wheels turn in her head or the hope in her voice that someone’s going to come along and save me the way she did Colt. He wanted to be saved. I don’t.
When knocking comes from my door hours later, I almost ignore that, too, but something about the gentle rap, rap, rap lulls me, calls to me until I stand up, walk over, and jerk the door open.
My eyes travel up from the pink, fluffy jacket to Delaney’s face with the unsure smile and eyes she’s trying to shield from me. There’s nothing there. Not the pain or the desire, and I think about the words going through her head right now. Wonder if she’s trying to talk herself out of her thoughts, hoping not to show them to me.
And as much as I don’t like to admit it, as much as I want to bury this part of myself, deeper than the earth covering Ashton, I can’t. I’m glad she’s here. Glad she came because I wanted to see her and I wouldn’t have gone to her. But it’s not my fault she came to me. When I wanted to have her, to take her, that was different. It’s not like I don’t still want that. Want to swallow all those little cries of pleasure. Taste the sweetness she offered to me last night. There’s a part of me that feels a little less alone right now and alone is all I’ve known for so long.
“It’s cold out here. Think you could let me in?” she asks.
“I could.” My arms cross and I slip back into my façade. “What are you doing for me if I do?”
Instead of answering, her hand moves toward my face. “Your eye…”
“Eh.” I step back and open the door. “It’s not like I’ve never been hit before. My dad was an even better shot than your brother.”
“Adrian…”
“Don’t. It happened, can’t change it. There’s no point in pretending words will make it go away.” I close the door behind her. Delaney walks into the room but doesn’t sit down. I go right back to where I was on the couch, putting my arm on the back as springs creak under the cushion.
“Maddox can be a jerk, but you have to admit, you didn’t do much to plead your case. You made it sound like more happened than it did. You’re lucky he didn’t do more, and honestly, I don’t really appreciate it either.”
She crosses her arms, and Christ, as much as I don’t want to, I smile. She looks like a marshmallow, her arms puffed up because of her jacket. “Come here.” When she raises an eyebrow at me, I say, “Please.”
Delaney walks over and stands between my legs.
“Just last night I was standing in front of you this way.”
“I remember.” Her cheeks squeeze in and I think she’s trying to hide a smile. Sitting forward, I reach for the zipper on her jacket. A sharp gasp slips past her lips.
“Don’t worry, Little Ghost. I’m only taking your jacket off.” The name came out when I was talking to her last night, but it fits her more than Casper really did. It feels like it’s her, even though I don’t think I should be giving her any kind of name like that. I don’t need to be close to her. I shouldn’t be close to anyone.
We both study the teeth of her zipper pulling apart. She’s wearing a sweater, but it’s short, showing me a sliver of her stomach. She’s thin, but soft, too, little dips and valleys that I remember exploring. After pulling the jacket off, I toss it to the couch. I’m hard already but try and stamp it down. As much as I want her, I don’t think she’s here for that right now. “What’s going on?”
She fidgets, transfers her weight from her right foot to her left, showing me her nerves and that she knows what I’m asking.
When she doesn’t answer, I again say, “Come here.”
“I’m here,” tumbles from those cherry-red lips.
“Not close enough.” I tell myself it’s because I want to touch her. She’s gorgeous and feminine, and what guy doesn’t want to get close to that, but there’s more. I’m hoping when we’re closer, she can’t keep her secrets from me. Can’t cover the windows into her soul.
I take her hand and give it a gentle pull. It’s all I need and she’s climbing on my lap, straddling me. My cock’s nuzzled right between her legs and I know she feels it, feels how much I want her, and fuck if her heat doesn’t seep right through me. My hands hold her hips and I wish we were both bare. Wish we were skin to skin because bodies don’t lie the same way mouths do.
“What are you doing?” She turns her head. Every time she does, I move mine the same way, not letting her escape. Funny how I don’t want her to retreat, how I want to be inside her and know everything that lives there, though I know there’s so much of me she’ll never see. So much I’ll never show her.
“Your eyes don’t lie. Even when this”—I rub my thumb across her bottom lip—“doesn’t want to talk, your eyes do.”
“Why is it fair that you get to know what’s going on inside me if I don’t know about you?” She doesn’t shield her face from me this time, like she wants me to know she’s serious.
“It’s not fair… but…” The words I want to say won’t leave my lips.
“Maybe you will… be able to.”
“What are you doing here?” I should tell her I’m glad she came. I am, and it makes me feel like an asshole grilling her like this.
Delaney shrugs, playing at a nonchalance I don’t think she feels. “I work tonight… I wanted to make sure you were still coming. You know… to keep me safe.”
“Your brother seems to like protecting you.” My hands squeeze her hips and I pull her a little closer.
“I don’t want him to protect me.”
With that, I fuse my mouth over hers. Her arms wrap around my neck. Each time she moves, my cock jumps at the feel of her moving against it. I don’t want to want her this much. I don’t know why I do, but instead of pulling away, I kiss her deeper. Suck her tongue into my mouth and move my hips with hers.