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28
Three years ago
“Hey, Pen. You awake?” Zayn asks me as he pops his head around Xeno’s bedroom door, looking ruffled from sleep.
I yawn, peering at him from beneath the duvet that smells so deliciously of Xeno. I’ve spent all day in bed wrapped up in his scent of spiced musk. Now I feel rested and calm. By the looks of it, Zayn has been sleeping all day too.
“Where is everyone? What time is it?” I ask. Wondering at what point Dax and York left me to sleep after our encounter. My cheeks heat and my skin flushes at the memory of York’s hand between my legs and both their cocks in my hands.
“It’s five in the afternoon. York had to go home before his mum called the cops, and Dax is out getting us some pizza.”
“Five? Fuck, I’ve slept for like twelve hours or something.”
“Yeah. You needed the rest,” Zayn says, stepping into the room.
“I…”
My words are lost as he saunters over to the bed, topless, with just his jeans hanging low on his hips. A smattering of dark hair covers his pec and a line of softer hair runs downwards from his belly button, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Zayn is older than me by almost a year, and just like the rest of my Breakers he’s already a man even though his age would suggest otherwise.
“What’s up, Pen?” he grins at me, his night-time eyes sparkling with mirth and something a little darker as I sit up, the duvet revealing my bruises and my bra covered tits. “Fucking Christ.” His mirth disappears as he looks at the damage caused by David’s fists.
Sighing, I give him a tumultuous smile. “They don’t hurt so much now,” I lie. They still hurt like a bitch, but I don’t want his pity and I see so much of it in his eyes right now.
“York told us what he’s been doing to you, Pen. I’m so sorry…” His voice trails off as he pulls back the covers and climbs into bed next to me.
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do this,” I respond quietly as he shuffles close to me, pulling me into his arms. I rest my cheek against his chest, my fingers reaching for the dark hair growing across his skin. Breathing in, I draw in his familiar scent of honeyed bread and weed.
“Because he hurt you. Because I feel fucking helpless to do anything to stop it. Because… because Iloveyou, Pen,” he admits, his arms circling me, holding me close. Zayn has always been honest with me, and his honesty now is the biggest gift I could ask for. It means everything.
Shifting in his hold, I sit up, straddling him. My hair falls over my shoulders, the ends tickling his chest as I lean forward and press my forehead against his. “I love you too.” It feels so easy to say those precious words. I like the way they make me feel, and I like the happiness that lights up Zayn’s face when I say them back.
“We tried talking to Jeb about David…” he suddenly blurts out, his fingers caressing my spine.
“And?”
“And he didn’t want to listen.” Zayn breathes out a long sigh, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Pen.”
I nod, and I know he isn’t just apologising for not being able to persuade Jeb to do something about my brother. He’s apologising for everything else too. He’s apologising for the fact they’re part of the Skins crew. He’s apologising for the fact that they’ve bad done things to earn expensive motorbikes, that the rumours about them are true.
My Breakers break bones.
But like last night, I don’t want to think about David, about Jeb or the Skins, about who these boys will eventually turn into. I want to live in the now and hang onto our friendship because it’s the only good thing in my life besides Lena.
Zayn rests his head back on the wall and looks up at me, watching me carefully as I inch closer. My fingers trace his lips as I stare into his oynx eyes, loving the way his dark orbs drink me in.
“What are you doing, Pen?” he asks, a rueful smile playing about his lips as my fingers lower, tracing the length of his neck and feathering across his collarbone.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I whisper, leaning closer to him and brushing my lips against his forehead.
“I didn’t say I love you to get you into bed…”
“You’re already in bed, Zayn.”
“You know what I mean. This isn’t about that,” he says, looking up at me.
“I know, but this is what people in love do, right? They kiss, they make each other feel good.” Memories of York and Dax filter back in, and I react, rocking my hips against his dick that is growing between us.
“Pen, I’m not sure…”
