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I don’t say a word. What is there to say? He wraps an arm around one of mine, sobbing softly, and I let him. I don’t bother offering empty promises or assurances or anything like that while the water falls on us. I’m not even supposed to know why he’s doing this. I only want him to know he isn’t alone.
The water is turning from hot to only lukewarm by the time I let go of him. I’m soaked, of course, but I don’t mind. When I hold out a hand, he places his inside and lets me help him to his feet. He follows me out of the shower, where I hand him a towel before taking one for myself.
I wait until he’s dried off, then watch him pull on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. He won’t say a word or look me in the eye. I’m sure he doesn’t know I saw his phone, but he’s still hurting enough to act this way. I can’t even imagine the pain he’s in, feeling forced to do something like that. He must hate himself for going through with it. If it’s Coach Greg he sent it to, I understand why he might feel like he had no choice.
He gets into bed even though it’s still kind of early. Once he’s settled in, I cross the hall to my room and peel off my wet clothes. My heart is heavy, hurting. There has to be a way to help him in the long term. But how? I’ve seen the messages, but they’re not on my phone. They’re on his. And I doubt I’ll ever get a chance to look at his messages again. What if I could convince him to come forward? But that would mean I saw the dick pic, and while he’s still a mystery in so many ways, I know it would kill him. He would be too ashamed. He’s been cruel to me in the past, but I can’t be that cruel to him.
By the time my hair is dry, and I’ve washed what’s left of the makeup off my face, I don’t feel any better and I know trying to read or study will be a waste of time. I have too much on my mind. Instead of getting into bed, I tiptoe across the hall to check on Hayes.
The door opens silently, but as it turns out, I didn’t need to worry about disturbing him. He’s disturbed enough, tossing and turning, muttering something I can’t understand.
I go over to the bed and lean down, placing a gentle hand on his forehead. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re safe. You can rest.”
He whimpers, turning his head away. I have to bite back tears after seeing him like this. Is this what he’s feeling all the time? How does he survive?
When all else fails, I do the only other thing I can come up with. I pull back the covers and slide into bed next to him. His back is to me, so I curl my body around his with an arm around his waist.
“You’re safe. I’m here.”
His breathing slows. The muttering fades to silence. Soon, the only sounds in the room are our breathing.
I have to help him. I only wish I knew how. How can you help a person when they don’t want to be helped?
I’m still wondering about that when I fall asleep.
26
This is the most vivid sex dream I’ve ever had about Hayes, which is saying something. I dream about him a lot.
He’s pulling off my shorts and thong. I’d try to stop him, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to give up his nearness. The scent of soap barely covering up the faint chlorine smell he carries on his skin no matter how he tries to wash it off. I’ve come to love it—now, I breathe in deep, drinking it in the way I drink in the sensation of his touch.
My skin sizzles with every kiss. He runs his mouth over my throat, and I throw my head back to encourage more. My fingers tangle in his thick hair. “Mm…” I moan in approval, closing my eyes and melting against him when his tongue laps at me. It’s so much easier to give myself to him when I know it doesn’t matter. None of it is real. There’s no doubting myself or wishing I could be stronger. No hating myself for craving him.
“What do you want?” he whispers in the dark.
Now I can speak the words buzzing around in my head. I’ve wanted it ever since he did it to me over the pool.
“Go down on me,” I beg, spreading my legs and pressing his shoulders like I can put him where I want him.
His knowing laughter warms my stomach, which in the back of my mind seems odd, but this is a vivid dream. “You liked that, huh?”
