“That’s true,” Bailey said, covering her insecurity. She stood up and sighed. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you need anything?”
I shook my head while kicking off my shoes. The wind had picked up and now shook everything with a fury. Leaning my head against knees, I focused on the clean scent of the apartment. This wasn’t the dirty trailer and I wasn’t a boy anymore. My dad wouldn’t show up and pound on me. I no longer had to worry about his friends smacking me around either. I was safe with the girl of my dreams who was pointing her butt at me. Enjoying the view, I watched Bailey search her collection of Blu-rays.
When she turned around, I noticed an odd look on her beautiful face.
“I don’t judge you,” she said, walking towards me with a movie behind her back. “Promise you won’t judge me.”
“Why?” I asked, suspicious now.
“This is my favorite movie, but no one knows. It’s my secret and I’m sharing it with you because I trust you. Do you trust me?”
Nodding, I tilted my head to see the movie behind her back. When she kept it hidden, I added, “I promise.”
Bailey sighed and showed me the movie. When I just smiled, she sighed again, sounding relieved this time.
“The Santa Clause?” I said, smiling wider. “You’re sweet.”
“It makes me happy. Whenever I feel down, I watch it and life gets better.”
“Maybe it’ll work for me?”
Smiling at my comment, Bailey hurried to the player. While she set up the movie, I focused on her rather than the storm.
I’d never seen the movie before, but I watched it with the eyes of a child rather than the skeptical eyes of a nineteen year old. It wasn’t difficult whenever I looked at a smiling Bailey. She laughed a lot even though the jokes must be tired after so many viewings. Watching the movie with her, I allowed the scared little boy to enjoy something he might have once found funny.
An hour in, I had joined her on the couch. Every snap of thunder tensed me, but I concentrated on the movie’s sweetness and Bailey’s warm body against mine. By the time the movie was over, I didn’t jump at every crack of thunder. Bailey helped me remain in the present when my past wanted to destroy me. She was much more than I ever dreamed and I needed to make her mine.
Chapter Seventeen ~ Bailey
The storm raged for the rest of the night and into the morning. I loved sleeping when it rained, but Nick remained on edge. Every time I comforted him, he jerked away. If I gave him space, he calmed enough to rest closer to me on the bed.
Whenever I felt insecure about him refusing my touch, I remembered how he whispered my name in his sleep. I also thought about how I’d comforted him the night before without using sex or jokes. I was able to be gentle in a way I normally didn’t have in me.
I woke up later in the morning to find my cold had passed and Nick was gone from the bed. With the heavy winds and rain, I nearly missed the sound of running water.
Opening the door to the shower, I saw Nick scrubbing his already red arms. I turned down the scalding water and started to speak until his expression stopped me.
“I need to be alone.”
I nearly left him to clean his already clean body. Tawny also got in her weird moods where she needed to be alone or only wanted to be around Judd. I understood people like Nick and the Smith sisters were raised fucked up, leaving them with real problems, not insecurities about bra sizes.
I refused to leave Nick though. His happiness was my responsibility, so I stripped out of my nightgown and joined him in the shower.
Nick moved into the corner, trying to hide himself.
“You don’t have to hide from me. I’ve seen your scars.”
“In the Thunderdome. That’s not me. That’s Dragon. I don’t feel like Dragon. I feel…”
Nick couldn’t finish. His expression was filled with such self-loathing that I wanted to hunt down his father and make him pay. Going homicidal wouldn’t help Nick though.
“I never see Dragon,” I said, stepping closer and placed my hands against the long healed scars on his chest. “I always see Nick and you’re the one I want.”
Nick didn’t budge from the corner of the shower. “Even after living here for a year, I can still smell the old trailer. I can never wash it off.”
My fingers slid over the circular scars on his bicep that I suspected were cigarette burn marks. I’d seen one on the back of Winnie’s right hand. She told me that before the Todds saved her she was worth no more than an ashtray.
No one ever saved Nick.