Thoughtful(104)

I shrugged. The real story wasn’t all that interesting. “Nothing so dramatic. She went to her school, I went to mine. Different paths…”

Confusion passed over Kiera’s eyes. “I thought you said she was a neighbor. Why were you in different schools?”

My face went blank as I realized my mistake. I couldn’t tell her the truth, that I was incredibly young. Illegal young. Kiera wouldn’t understand what I’d been going through, what my life had been like, how sex had been my only comfort from endless torture. No, all she would see was my age. She’d be disgusted, think horrible thoughts about me. I didn’t want Kiera to think I was a sex-addicted monster. And I didn’t want her to think I was broken, messed up…so lonely I could barely stand myself. I didn’t want her to see the dark spots inside me. I wasn’t ready to open up like that. Just the thought made me nauseous, so I gave her the vaguest answer I could think of. “We weren’t in the same grade.”

I could see the gears in Kiera’s head turning, and I knew I needed to shift the conversation. “But she was sixteen…How old were you?”

It was the exact question I didn’t want to answer. But somehow, before I could stop myself, a portion of it slipped out anyway. “Not sixteen…” No…I was twelve years old. Clueless. A child. But you wouldn’t understand…

Kiera still looked confused. “But—”

Angry at myself for letting way too much out, I firmly told her, “You should get some sleep, Kiera…it’s late.” And I’m not going to talk about this anymore.

I thought she would fight for more information, but instead, she seemed to sense that I wasn’t ready, and she let it go. She brought her hand out from under the covers, and smiling, grateful, I held it. We both settled back on the pillows, and I reached out to her and pulled her onto my chest. With her head above my heart, I began stroking her hair and rubbing her back. Peace replaced all the anxiety that I’d felt about her finding out about my past. None of that mattered anyway. Only right now, with her in my arms, mattered.

She nestled into my body and I instinctually kissed her head. It happened before I could stop it, but she didn’t push me away, didn’t storm from the room. She didn’t do anything. She just lay on me, enjoying my comfort as much as I was enjoying hers.

While we lay together, her fingers started tracing my body. She began near the cut along my ribs, the knife wound I’d gotten for her. She then ran her fingers up my chest, and my heart started beating heavier. It felt so nice to have her touch me. Sighing softly, I squeezed her tight.

She noticed that she was affecting me, and I watched as she pushed herself up to look at me. Tiredness was in her eyes, but it only made them more intoxicating. “Kellan, maybe we shouldn’t—”

No, I don’t want this to end. Ever. “I’m fine, Kiera…Get some sleep.”

She lay back down, but shifted to rest in the crook of my shoulder. That was fine; it felt nice too. She reached over to grab my hand and lace our fingers together. She brought our entwined fingers under her cheek, then rested her head on them. I sighed in happiness; I’d never felt such a warm connection with anyone before. I thought the world could end right now, and I’d still be completely at peace.

I kissed her head again and she whispered, “Kellan…?”

Knowing she was concerned that this was becoming too much for me, I reassured her. “Really, I’m fine, Kiera…”

She peeked up at my face. “No, I was just wondering…why do you want to do this with me? I mean, you know it’s not going anywhere…why waste your time?”

A slice of pain cut through my perfect moment, but I buried it as best I could. I would take whatever she could give me. “No time with you is wasted, Kiera. If this is all…” I couldn’t confess all my desperation, so I left it at that.

For the first time, she seemed to understand that this wasn’t about sex for me. That she meant something to me, and I was struggling to handle the fact that she didn’t want to be with me. As she gazed at my face, I knew she was seeing me…really seeing me. It hurt, but I didn’t pull away, change the conversation, or alter my expression. This was me, laid bare.

Her eyes were battling some inner confusion as she released my hand and stroked my cheek. It amplified the pain. I’d never have her. Not fully. Brief glimpses of happiness would be all that I had with her, because tomorrow night, she’d be back in her bed, with Denny by her side, and I’d be alone. Always alone.

Now that I knew how amazing this felt, I hated the thought of never getting to feel it again. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I didn’t want to be without her anymore. I didn’t want to share her anymore. Selfishly, I wanted every section, every piece, every corner. I knew I was pushing against a line I’d sworn to never cross again, but Denny didn’t appreciate what he had. I did. I cherished every second I had with her, and I wanted our connection to be deeper. I wanted more.