Her body seems to pause there for some time. Perhaps she’s feeling my heartbeat against her back, or maybe she’s questioning herself again, wondering whether she deserves the comfort she’s seeking.
I realize my heart is swelling for her. She deserves so much better than she allows herself, and I want her to feel that, but I feel the restraints of my relationship to her as an instructor chafing me as I think on her. There’s so many reasons why I tried to erect that barrier between us, and now, in the twilight hours, her pure beauty is breaking them down.
She truly does deserve such human reassurance as she craves. She’s not like me, not like the monster I keep housed in my heart and fists. She deserves only goodness and love. But can I be the one to give that to her?
Gently, I slip my arm around her, my thick forearm and bicep draping over her like a blanket in itself. As if acting on instinct, I feel her move back further, and she moves her rear back against me, not quite pressing into my pelvis, but melding into my body for warmth and comfort, all of her touching me. I stroke her arm with my hand as my heart pounds in my chest, and it only seems to encourage her as she snuggles in tighter to me until we’re so very close to each other.
I know she can feel my breath on her neck now, and my mind starts to work faster, wondering what she thinks of the appropriateness of all this. Maybe she’s truly asleep, and she will wake up with another shriek. Maybe she’s in the same half-conscious state as I, acting on the merest impulse and drive for human closeness.
I hardly realize what I’m doing as I lean forward to close the inch between us, my lips brushing against her neck as I plant a gentle kiss there, holding her tighter against me in a brief hug. My concerns melt for a moment as I hear a soft sigh from her, her legs squirming around as she adjusts herself to get more comfortable against me, and I can almost see the smile on her lips from behind.
“You’re a hero, Max,” she whispers, and her words almost make me jump, not realizing she was every bit as wide-awake as me. “You said you weren’t a good person, but I just want you to know that you are.”
With that, she slips her hand into mine, giving it a light squeeze as she gets comfortable against me, and I feel her breath go steady and slow again as she’s carried into a deep, comfortable sleep.
And now, I’m wide-awake, my mind racing in conflict as I fight to control the threateningly growing thing between my legs as she presses against me, my heartbeat quickening against what I realize is the first person in a very long time — probably ever — to see some good in the true side of who I am.
15
Liv
A stream of pale morning sunlight pricks at my eyes until they open. My whole body aches with exhaustion, as though I recently ran a marathon. There are soft gray sheets cocooning me, and a cushy pillow under my cheek. Am I at home? More importantly, where is home? My bedroom back in Toast… or my shared bedroom at my flat with Maggie? My heart sinks at the thought of her. Wherever she is, I hope she’s okay, at least alive. As I blink my eyes, the room around me comes into focus and it begins to dawn on me where exactly I am.
My mentor’s bedroom.
My stomach twists into anxious knots and I flip over, dreading what I will find. I can’t believe I’m doing this — sleeping in my instructor’s bed! What would my parents think of me? What would my friends back home say about me in their whispered conversations?
With mingled relief and disappointment I realize that the space beside me is empty. I’m all alone in the bed. I frown and start questioning what even happened last night. Maybe I did sleep here by myself all night. But then… I remember the faint sensation of Max’s strong body curled around me protectively. I recall with a shiver the feeling of his feather-light kiss on my neck. No, he was definitely here last night. Where is he now?
A surge of terror passes through my body. What if he left me here? What if I’m alone?
Will and those other guys could come back for me. They could find me here. Suddenly, it becomes absolutely imperative that I find Max and stay close to him, no matter what. I can’t stand to be alone right now. As I slip out of bed, I feel a twinge of self-loathing. I used to be so independent. I treasured my alone time. And now I’m proving everyone right — I am just as fragile as I look. I comb my fingers through my messy hair, wincing as I untangle the knots. I must have tossed and turned in my sleep a lot to make such a disaster of my hair. It was fine and soft, and usually didn’t tangle easily. But with the experiences I’ve had since coming to Paris, I suppose it makes sense that I would have difficulty sleeping peacefully.