AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Starfish.”
Corvin’s hand falls from my hair, and he frowns. “You’re safewording out of a shower?”
“I’m tired.”
“Fifteen more minutes, and then you can sleep.”
I shake my head and walk around him to the ladder connecting the beds. “Not tonight.”
“Shiloh…”
I climb up the steps and peel back my crumpled up covers, but I don’t settle. I listen to Corvin moving around the room, cleaning up our mess. When the door clicks open and the light switches off, I swallow down the lump clogging my throat.
“Corvin?”
He stops, and I pull my knees to my chest and drop my chin to them. “Thank you. For giving me what I need.” A sob rises up and makes my voice wobble. “I just can’t handle the affection right now.”
He throws a look over his shoulder. A smile that lodges a rock of shame in my chest.
“We’ll talk about it in the morning, sweetheart. Rest.”
The door shuts behind him, and I’m left feeling like gunk on the bottom of someone’s shoe.
I hurt him.
I could see it in his eyes, in that pained smile.
I hurt Corvin Morales.
The same way I hurt everyone.
I close my eyes and dream about never waking up.
Chapter 18
Corvin
Shiloh doesn’t talk about what happened. I don’t push him on it. We spend the next several days hauled up in the room with me finally convincing him to shower in the dead of night when no one is likely to be around.
He doesn’t let me touch him or see him. He says the tenderness hurts more than the bruises do. That doesn’t stop me from playing my videos extra loud when I know he can’t sleep or bringing back takeout to leave on his desk while I wander out for RA duties.
When the weekend rolls around again and he’s barely stepped foot outside the room, I make a quick call to confirm some plans and toss him a fresh set of pants and a hoodie.
Shiloh is sitting on my bed in just his underwear and a tee that he’s been wearing for two days, scrolling his laptop. He looks at the material tossed on the mattress like it has personally offended him.
“No.”
“Not optional today, sweetheart. Put your pants on and get your butt downstairs.”
He frowns but whips his shirt off and stuffs the hoodie over his head in one move. “I don’t want to.”
I prop my shoulder against the doorframe and give him a stern look. “Don’t care what you want.”
Shiloh shows off that full pout that I both want to kiss and bite at the same time. But his lips are still cracked and healing, taking longer due to the amount of abuse they go through being chewed to bits.
We stare each other down even as he stands and slips the leggings up his legs. A lot of the bruises have faded to an ugly yellow color, but some of the ones on his abdomen are still dark. Which is why he’s hardly ever shirtless these days.
“I reserve the right to hide out in the car,” he says as he pulls on a pair of socks and steps into his shoes.
