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Jonathan does. He moves to stand next to me, then he looks me directly in the eye. Mine are red and swollen, my face still wet with tears.
A decent man would probably take one look at me and make the same judgment Milo has—I’m a mess, and I should be left alone.
That's why tonight, I need the Granville without so much fucking decency.
“Can I stay in your room tonight?” I ask him.
“Kennedy,” Milo says, his tone threatening, but I don’t look at him. I can’t.
Jonathan does. His gaze flickers to his father and, for a horrifying moment, I realize he could say no. I don’t know if I could stand that humiliation tonight after everything else. But I don’t know where else I could go, either.
My heart is already broken, beaten down and stepped on, a pile of rubble beneath all our feet. I don’t really have anything left to lose, so when Jonathan grabs my hip and pulls me back into his bedroom, all I feel is relief.
That’s not true.
I feel sadness and a deep sense of loss, but it’s buried underneath too much trauma, too many other lost things.
Chapter twenty
Kennedy
Alone with Jonathan in his bedroom, my tears fall like raindrops on a violent, stormy night, drenching my face in evidence of all the pain I’m feeling.
The light is on, so Jonathan can clearly see it.
He closes the bedroom door and locks it.
I’m crushed beneath the weight of too many feelings, suffocated by them. I can’t find my way out.
I need to feel nothing.
I need to be numb.
Jonathan turns off the light.
I can breathe again when the room is dark.
He lets me catch my breath, then he asks simply, “What do you need?”
Reliefhits me so hard, my knees nearly buckle. A cool tear skips over the hollow beneath my eye and rolls fast down my cheek.
“Use me,” I whisper.
He wraps his fingers around my throat and pushes me back against the wall, pressing his hard body against mine. “Yeah?”
Relief flutters through me.
I nod, swallowing the lump of regret in my throat.
Thisis what I needed.
It feels so good to be touched like I’m not some fragile, breakable thing.
At the same time, he’s almost tender. Pushing me against the wall with his strong body, but bringing his other hand up and stroking my jawline with his thumb. “You sure?” he murmurs, dipping his head to kiss my jaw, gripping my head and moving it, movingmeso he can kiss wherever he wants to.
Iwasn’tsure, but I am now. “Yes.”
He forces me back against the wall again and pins me there. The pressure of his hard body against mine is so reassuring.
