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“My trainer kissed me sometimes, and I hated it, sometimes worse than I did when he struck me.”
How can a voice so sweet expel words that feel like a sledgehammer to my chest? She shouldn’t be saying them. She should never have had to endure what she has.
“But…” I hear her swallow. “With you, it was different. I didn’t want you to stop.” I sense her moving, coming from behind me, and she slides herself into the small space between me and the sink. I’m grateful that my hands are soaked with water–if they weren’t, I don’t know how I’d hold off touching her.
“I don’t think you wanted to stop either,” she tells me shyly, her cheeks flushed and her teeth biting into her lip. I want to kiss her all over again. Take those lips and erase the trace of any man who put his there before me.
“I had to.” I manage, with my whole body tense. I don't want to scare her.
“You make me feel like I'm going to be okay.” Her fingers move up to brush some hair away from my eyes. She might as well rip my heart from my chest and squeeze it in her dainty little fist, because at that moment, I feel myself become hers.
Slowly, so fucking slowly, and giving me all the time in the world to stop her, she stretches up on her toes and presses her lips against my jaw.
“Thank you for that,” she whispers before pulling away and heading into her bedroom.
I wanna march after her, kiss her the same way I did this morning, so she’ll know how I’m feeling and that I’m struggling to hold it back. I also wanna put my fist through the kitchen fucking cupboard for ever getting myself into this situation.
I do neither. Instead, I head straight to the bathroom for another cold shower.
Lydia’s waiting for me in the kitchen when I come out, wearing a cute white dress and a denim jacket. The dress reminds me too much of the one she was wearing the night of the auction, but she seems comfortable enough with it, and she looks beautiful.
Her hair is braided neatly to one side, and I try not to check out her legs in the fucking cowgirl boots someone's lent her.
“I can change if you want me to?” She looks down at herself when she notices me staring.
“No!” I bark the word out quickly, and the tiny smile it coaxes from her lips makes my dick twitch.
“You really wanna go to this party?” I check although the answer is pretty damn obvious. Excitement looks real good on her.
“I’ve never been to one before, not one I can remember, anyway.” She laughs sadly.
“Well then, I can hardly say no, can I?” I feel a smile creep onto my face too. It feels out of place, but not forced, and I quickly move to my bedroom to change before she can weaken me anymore.
We leave my cabin half an hour later, with her clutching her bowl of coleslaw. I’m grateful when we see Alex and Squealer leaving their place at the same time.
“Hey,” my brother calls over from his porch, “You heading over to Troj’s? We’ll walk with ya.” I wait for them to catch up.
“You look so pretty. I used to look good in that dress too.” Alex sighs to Lydia, then snarls at Squealer.
“I think you look hot as hell right now,” Squealer kisses Alex on top of her head, and she doesn’t look at all convinced.
“I feel as big as a house, and I still have four more months left.” She looks down at her huge, round stomach that seems to be expanding by the day.
“Think yourself lucky. When Mama was pregnant with us, her ankles swelled up so big she couldn't even walk.” Squealer chuckles and Alex’s face drops even more.
“I made coleslaw,” Lydia interrupts just at the right moment, proudly holding out her bowl and managing to catch Alex before the tears start.
“It looks amazing. I just threw together a regular salad.” Alex looks at the plate Squealer's carrying, and her voice starts to wobble like she’s on the verge of sobbing again. “Sorry, it’s the hormones.” She links her arm into Lydia's and starts to lead her towards the woods where Troj has built his cabin.
“And don't we just fucking love the hormones?” Squealer mutters under his breath, faking a smile at me before we start to follow them. When we catch up to them, Squealer throws his arm around Alex’s shoulder and kisses her neck. Lydia looks at me, and I wonder if she wishes I would do the same kinda thing to her.
When she first arrived here, she clung to me so tight and feeling how scared she was–I’d allowed her to.
I was wrong to do that.
“You want me to carry that?” I look down at the bowl in her hands, wanting to offer her something at least.
“Sure,” she smiles, hiding her disappointment as I take it from her, and we follow my brother and Alex to the party.
