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He wipes a tear from my cheek because, stupid me, I’m crying. “Hey, stop. What’s wrong?”
I cover my face. This is useless. If I can’t orgasm with Brody, someone I actually like, then I never will. I am just a broken mess that should be discarded and forgotten. He can’t possibly want this. Me.
His words are too soft, too caring, when he says, “Honey, tell me what happened.”
Now he’s calling me ‘honey’? Why? I’m a jumble of odd pieces that don’t fit together. He needs to be with someone he can connect to—a fully sexual and independent woman who can love him back. Who he can marry and join bank accounts with. A woman who can give him the most incredible life. Because Brody is everything. He deserves someone who can give him everything.
That’s not me.
I scratch my forehead. My stomach hurts and I’m shaky and there’s too much pressure in my head. Too many thoughts. Feelings. Sensations clawing underneath my skin. Shredding me to get out. I need them out. They need to stop. I need the pain and pressure to stop.
I climb off him and rush to the hallway. I barely make it out of his bedroom before the pressure takes over, and I pound my fists against the wall and scream.
I’m no longer in control. My body will do whatever it takes to release the pain.
Chapter Fifteen
Brody
I’M PARALYZED ON THE BED for a moment as I listen to Paige pounding on the walls and screaming in the hallway. Sweat slips down my temple.
What the hell just happened?
One minute she was riding me to the gates of heaven. The next she was crying and then ran from the room. I must’ve done something wrong, but hell, I wish I knew what it was.
I grab her phone that she left on the bed, and then yank on boxers. In seconds, I’m standing in her bedroom doorway watching as she rips the comforter and sheets off her bed like she’s trying to put out a fire. She grabs her pillow and chucks it across the room. Next, she grabs a book from the floor and throws it. The book hits my weight stand and flops to the carpet.
More sweat streams from my hairline. My pulse races. I have no fucking idea what to do. I hate this. I want to take all the pain she’s feeling, all the pain she’s ever felt, and trap it in my body so she never suffers again. But I can’t do a damn thing.
She slumps onto the bed against the wall and tugs her hair. It hangs over her face like a curtain as she sobs. Her body rocks and then her head jerks back and hits the wall. At first, I think it’s an accident. Then she does it again.
I jump on the bed. “Hey, Paige—” I reach for her and then freeze. Amber’s voice shouts inside my head. “Do not touch Paige!”
This time, I need to listen. Dammit, I need to remember what she barked at me the first day Paige arrived.
Do not touch her without permission. If she has a panic attack, encourage her to breathe with you. Deep breaths. If she has a meltdown, keep her safe but leave her alone.
Okay, what is this? Panic attack or meltdown? Shit, why am I so ignorant?
Keep her safe, is all I can think, so I rush to grab a pillow and put it behind her head before she smacks it against the wall again. That seems to calm her, and she rolls onto her side to tug at her hair and sob.
I inch closer. I’m fighting every instinct in my body to pull her close and hold her tight. Seeing her like this is the worst type of anguish.
“Paige?” I say softly, hovering my hand over her leg.
She doesn’t respond, just keeps sobbing.
I clench my teeth. What the hell did I do? Why did she get so upset? It has to be my mouth. I started rambling like I always do. I started talking about feelings, and you don’t tell someone you think you love them during sex. Especially when you’re having sex for the first time.
I’m an idiot. A hopeless idiot. I’m so out of practice with relationships I’m fucking everything up and hurting Paige. I sit against the wall a moment to sulk, but this isn’t about me. I need to help her. If I can’t provide comfort, maybe something else can.
I find Bamsy and that pink bunny in the living room, and then return to Paige’s bed. I set them beside her. She reaches a cautious hand out to touch Bamsy, like she’s checking that he’s real, and then she crushes him against her chest under the curtain of hair.
Guess Pink Bunny will comfort me. I hug it and move to the end of the bed, close but still giving Paige plenty of space. For the first time in my entire life, I’m glad Amber yelled at me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have her annoying voice in my head, and I might have touched Paige and made everything worse.
“Do you need me to go?” I ask.
She doesn’t respond, but the sobs are weaker now.
