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No one calls me by my full name. Ever. Not even my parents. It’s not even on my school records. Only Lavender has called me that. As soon as she could pronounce my full name, that’s what she’s always called me.
“Yes. I saw you. I see you.”
“But you didn’t want to.” She lowers herself with a quiet sigh. “Too much of a complication.”
“You were seventeen.”
“I’m not talking about two years ago.” Rise up. “I’m talking about now.” Slide down. “It’s awful to want something you’re not allowed to have, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry. There was so much to lose.” I move my hand to my thigh.
“Don’t,” she snaps. “Don’t touch yourself. You need to know what it feels like to be me. Always on the outside.” She circles her clit. “Wanting to be wanted.” Her eyes fall closed. “But believing the person you want will never want you back.”
She shudders, and in true Lavender form, she ducks her head and whimpers quietly as her entire body convulses. Because she’s coming.
But she hides it.
Like she hides everything.
Her wants. Her needs. Her anger. Her hurt.
Until tonight.
Silence follows, heavy and thick with lust and something that terrifies me. My dick is so hard, it hurts, but there’s no way on God’s green earth that I’m going to ask for anything right now.
Slowly, Lavender unfurls, rising up. The wet suction sound is excessive and loud. She stumbles a few steps, finds her balance, and crosses the room. Grabbing her robe from the back of her door, she shrugs it on and flips the lock.
“Get out.”
I uncurl my fingers from the armrest and push out of the chair. I have to rearrange myself, and even that contact almost makes me blow my load. “Lavender.” Her name is guttural—a plea, an apology.
Her eyes shift from the open door to me, hard and angry. “I hope all the suffering was worth it. If you really want me, I guess you’re going to have to find a way to deserve me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Suffer with Me Silently
Lavender
Present day
IWAKE UPthe next morning, and immediately my mind goes to what I did last night. I might have some kind of weird fetish, considering the way I got off on making Kodiakwatchme get off. My thighs clench, and I grimace. I’d say I need to do more squats, but I’m unlikely to follow through on that.
I scrub a hand over my face, aware that I have to deal with Kodiak and whatever this new development is in our relationship. I’m still trying to get over the fact that he spent half a decade avoiding me and the past several months being a giant asshole because he was afraid to ruin me. I’m unsure if that’s narcissistic, sweet, or something else entirely. Although, when I factor in my conversations with my mom and Queenie, I guess it all kind of makes sense.
I don’t have class, but I want to stop by the theater and work on a project this morning, so I get dressed and prepare to face whoever I may run into in the kitchen. Hopefully everyone is already out of the house or still sleeping.
I should be so lucky.
Sitting at the kitchen table, with a massive textbook laid out in front of him, is Kodiak. He’s wearing a Seattle hockey T-shirt that probably once belonged to his dad, based on how worn it is. In the short time he’s been living here, I’ve never seen him study in the kitchen, or anywhere that isn’t his room.
The fact that there’s a box of Lucky Charms, a bowl, a spoon, coconut milk, and a canister of something I can’t identify because it’s half-hidden by the cereal box, tells me the studying is likely a ruse.
He looks up from his textbook when I open the cupboard to retrieve a mug. My nondairy creamer is already on the counter, along with the organic agave syrup and a carafe of pressed coffee.
“The coffee’s fresh.” His voice is a low, quiet rumble that pours over me like warm butter.
I don’t respond, because it’s not a statement that requires one. I fill my mug and add creamer and syrup, stirring for far longer than is necessary. I’m mentally fortifying myself for whatever is about to happen. Will he go back to being an asshole? Will he say something horrible about what I did last night? Or is he going to magically be the Kodiak I once loved?
