I almost choke on my own tongue. “I wasn’t talking about bondage. Damn. Although I guess that’s... that’s good to know.” God, this girl is nuts in the absolute best way possible.
I pull her down to the bed, pressing my forehead to hers. I gather her close, because I can’t stand not to. The softness of her skin against mine is the sweetest thing ever, and I don’t know when I’ll feel it again.
“Okay, so tell me.” Her lips brush softly against mine, a kind of intimacy I never knew I wanted.
“So that night I came here, and you trusted me with those things about yourself...”
“I shouldn’t have told you, right? Now you’re afraid to touch me. My ex was like that.” She sits up partway. “I’m not a virgin. I mean, you know I’m not. But I did have a boyfriend. I’m not totally inexperienced.”
My hand tightens on her shoulder, because now I’m thinking about her with another guy and it cranks me up more than it should. She’s trying to reassure me, but hearing that doesn’t relax me one bit.
“It’s not about that.” I slide my fingers over the top of her arm, and the most graceful looking collarbones I’ve ever seen. It’s strange. We’re both lying here in jeans and no shirt, but it’s comfortable. “That night after we talked, you let me sleep holding onto you. It was honestly one of the best nights of sleep I’ve had in forever.”
She wrinkles her nose like she thinks I’m lying. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Baby, I’ve been alone since I was seventeen. There really hasn’t been a whole lot of anybody to put their arms around me.”
She looks confused and then sad. I guess it is pretty fucked-up when you really think it through. Poor me. Never had any hugs. When I think about it though, the last good one I recall is after my mom got sick.
Cassie bites her lip. “But I know you’ve had— I mean you’ve been with—”
“Sex. I’ve had plenty of sex. That isn’t the same as this.” I gesture between us, the small space between our bodies. “I liked that night.” More than I ever should have.
“I liked it, too. I loved that night. I felt like it changed something between us.”
It did. Whatever part of me had been trying so hard to push her away, got tired that night. It fell asleep in her arms and woke up more on her side than mine.
“Yeah. Well, I’d really like that tonight. You in my arms. Like this. I want to just hold you tonight, is that okay?” My fingers slip through her hair, one gorgeous curl after another. “Besides, I want to be completely sober the first time I make love to you. You deserve for it to be perfect.”
For seconds, she stares at me. She looks uncertain and confused. I wonder if she’s going to say no. If she thinks I’m a liar.
“Okay.” She squirms close, throwing one leg over mine.
I’m hard, dizzy, and half out of my head. I’m grateful to have the warmth of Cassie’s skin under my hands, because otherwise I might lose my mind entirely. God knows how I’ll end up feeling in the cold, sober light of morning.
I can only hope. And pray.
17. LIKE FREEDOM
Cassie
We wake to the sound of my alarm, which is supposed to sound like soothing, chirping birds. Most days the trilling is like an evil, angry drill to my brain. I shove myself out of my bed only so I can make it stop.
This morning a long arm reaches across me. Jake’s big body arcs over me in the dark, sweeping the phone from the floor and shutting off its blaring offensiveness.
I roll to my back so I can move out of his way more easily as he comes back down to the bed. He’s hot, sleepy, and disoriented. In the shadows, I can see his hair sticking up and his shoulders hunched under the blankets.
I like the way this feels, lying under him. It surprises me a little how much I do.
“Sorry,” he says softly. “Had to stop that noise.” He drops the phone on the floor again, bracing his elbows alongside me so he doesn’t put all his weight on me. I think if I looked hard, I could count a hundred ways he’s tried to be thoughtful toward me.
“It’s okay. I hate that alarm.”
He really has been. Jake’s been thoughtful, but he hasn’t been careful, and I think that’s what I appreciate most. In the blurry recesses of my brain where I’ve tried to keep it buried, I remember Keith and the way he made love to me like he was the one who was scared. I tried to appreciate that he meant well, but it made me so aware of what was wrong with me that nothing felt right.
Right now, Jake’s palm rests on the side of my face, and one thick thigh tries to decide whether it should rest on top of me or not. The weight of him feels exactly right. This moment with him is a gift I never thought I’d receive.