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Her breath goes slow, my own steadying as the hot rasp of everything we just shared cycles back against my skin, feeding me, nourishing us. I pull up to say how full my heart is, how much she means to me, and how I will never, ever let her go.
Our eyes meet.
And she bursts into tears.
Chapter 10
Alarm replaces the sense of completion, my gut tearing to shreds as I feel wetness from her tears against my shoulder.
“Oh, my God, Lindsay,” I say gruffly, sitting up, getting off her. “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to -- ”
She grabs me and sits up, burying her face in my chest, her arms wrapping around me. My heart beats so hard it’s like I’m punching her in the face.
“No, no,” she says, muffled. “I’m not crying because of pain.”
“Well...I...” Shit. I can barely say the next few words, but I have to. “Was the sex that bad?”
She half-coughs, half-laughs, half-sobs. “No! No! It was amazing. You’re amazing. We’re amazing together.”
I let out my breath. Didn’t realize I was holding it.
“I don’t know why I’m crying!” she confesses, her mouth against my nipple. The vibration feels weird, chaotic and out of order. I swear it makes my heart skip a beat.
I cough. It’s instinctive, but my rhythm resumes.
“It’s okay. Shhhhh,” I say, soothing her, brushing her wet hair off her face, kissing the salty tears.
“It’s not okay. I’ve been such a bitch to you. I couldn’t trust you.”
I choke, the air shooting out of me, surprised by her words. “What? That’s why you’re crying?” We’re naked and sweaty, covered in each other’s slick, and she’s crying after the most phenomenal emotional moment of my life because she’s been mean to me?
This can’t be real.
“Y-y-yes,” she whimpers. “I didn’t know I could love someone this much. I knew I loved you, Drew, but not like this!” Her little fists rub her tears away. She sniffles. “And you’re the first person I’ve ever asked to do that. To be inside me. I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
“Like what?” I prod gently, trying to understand. I run the tip of my nose across the crown of her head, breathing in the tropical scent of her shampoo, her hair impossibly soft.
“Like I’ve been living in half the world, not knowing the rest existed.”
I’m dumbfounded.
What the hell do you say in response to that?
“That’s exactly how I feel,” I confess, tightening my hold on her. She wiggles closer, into my lap. We link ourselves, breathing as one, until I untangle our bodies and bring her to the bed. An afterthought, for sure, but she relaxes in my arms when we’re under the covers, as if she feels safer.
Covered.
Not quite so exposed.
Only our naked bodies underneath the surface know the truth.
Her tears subside. I understand them now.
“I never told anyone who the fourth man was in that video.”
“You didn’t? Not a single person? Not even your dad?”
She shakes her head. The admission makes me feel good for some reason.
