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“This way. Now.”
It’s not far to my bedroom. Will sits on the edge of the bed and looks up at me. “Did you bring me here so I’d fuck you on your own bed?”
“We arenotfucking right now. You’re still bleeding.”
“But you have the nicest tits, Bristol.”
“Don’t be an ass. Just… stay there. Don’t move.”
Will flicks his eyes toward the ceiling. He hasn’t moved when I get back from the bathroom with a warm washcloth and the first aid kit.
He watches me through slitted eyes. The eyes of a predator still fresh from the fight, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He’d be rough with me right now. I can feel his violence pulsing in the air around us. “You’re beautiful and sweet and delicate. I’m going to break you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I am, Bristol. You should get away from me.”
My heartbeat falters. I don’t want to get away from him. This debt I owe could cost me a lot more than my body. Alotmore. “There’s blood on your face. I need to clean it off so I can figure out where the cut is.”
“There’s probably multiple cuts.”
And multiple bruises. “Then I’ll find those, too. Tell me what happened.”
“Already did.” I bring the cloth to Will’s forehead, and he hisses at the first contact. One of the cuts is up near his hairline.
“You said you went to a fight. What does that even mean?”
“What it sounds like.”
“You look like you lost.”
A sad, bitter smile. “I didn’t lose.”
My stomach sinks. I swipe antibiotic gel on the cut, then follow it with a bandage. On a hunch, I reach for the hem of his shirt and tug it up a few inches.
The breath goes out of me. More bruises than I’ve ever seen. Most of them too dark already to mean anything good.
“Will.”
“Is this the part where we can finally fuck? You know that’s why I came.”
His eyes are on mine, and the blue is bright against the streak of blood on his cheek. Bright andsad.So sad it squeezes at my heart. I reach for him without thinking. Without planning.
I put my arm around his neck and pull him into a hug.
Will’s body starts to lean into it. Starts to give in. But then he puts a hand on my shoulder and pushes me back. “Don’t do that.”
“Because it hurts?”
“Because that’s notforme.” Will’s eyes go slightly unfocused, but they snap back again. It doesn’t last.
“Hugs aren’t for you?”
“Fuck no.” A bitter laugh. “I’ve never liked them. Fistfights are what I like. Don’thugme, Bristol.” His eyes drift toward the door, and he winces. “I’m going to lay down for a minute.”
It’s more of a fall toward the pillow, and not a very graceful one.
A worried pressure wraps around my lungs, but I ignore it. No time to be freaked out at times like these. I stick my hands into one of Will’s pockets, then the next.
