It hurts. Fuck, that hurts, but what hurts more is seeing Sadie with that much sadness in her eyes. I want to help her. I want to fix it all for her. I can’t. I know that, but I can think of one thing that might give her some peace. Even if it’s only temporary, it’s worth it. She’s worth swallowing my pride for now.
I get to my feet and ease up to her. Her lost brown eyes peer up at me. There’s fear and trepidation in her eyes and I’m careful not to make her more uncomfortable than she already is. I hold out my hand and wait for her to take it.
Her soft palm glides across mine and I tug lightly so that she stands.
“Close your eyes, Sadie,” I demand softly, careful not to scare her.
“Zan— ” A wild look begins to fill her eyes and I know I have to shut that down.
“Shh. It’s okay,” I try soothing her. “Close your eyes.”
She looks at me carefully. Testing me. Pleading with me to make sure that she doesn’t regret doing as I say. Warning me to not hurt her.
Her eyes shut and I take a deep breath as quietly as I can. I’m so fucking nervous, but I know she needs this. As much as it sucks for me, I know she needs this. How I feel is irrelevant.
I step forward and gently pull her to me. I close my eyes and pretend for one second that I’m him. I pretend that I’m this good guy who fell in love with the good girl. I pretend that Sadie Parker is my wife and that I love her more than words can say. I pretend that I’m a man who’s going to die tomorrow and this is my last chance to make her feel this—me—us so that when I’m gone, she’ll have the memory of this moment and maybe it will serve as her segue from painful grief to amiable recollections.
Sadie’s body goes a little rigid when I pull her so close that her breasts press flush up to my torso. I press both palms to her back and let one hand drift lazily up to the nape of her neck while the palm of my other hand begins rubbing a light path up and down her lower spine. She relaxes almost instantly. Her body turns pliable in my grip. A weak little whine escapes her and it only motivates me.
I tighten my arms around her and start twirling a lock of hair at the nape of her neck. She wraps her arms around my waist and buries her face at my collarbone. Tremors shake her thin body but I just hold her tighter. Something warm has soaked through my shirt and when a soft sob fills my ears, I realize that it’s her tears. She seems to sway a little bit from side to side, silently telling me, teaching me how to touch her, how he touched her. I do exactly what she wants. I move side to side, almost like slow dancing without moving my feet.
“Jake,” she whimpers. “Oh, Jake.”
Chapter Twelve
Be Nice Back
Sadie
With Zander’s arms around me, I feel so close to Jake. He’s hugging me exactly like Jake used to. With the exception of a few small details as far as height and build, the hug feels painfully similar. Warmth from his body blankets mine, making it impossible for me to resist.
I turn my head to look straight at Zander. My lips brush lightly against the fabric of his shirt, making him tense. His finger stops twirling my hair to tangle in it. His hand stop drifting up and down my spine, splaying across my lower back instead.
“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Okay,” he breathes, his lips gliding against my forehead right at my hairline.
I gasp a little at the feel of his lips. They’re so full. Kissable. My breathing is coming out in choppy little pants now and I don’t bother trying to calm myself down.
“Tell me what you want, Sadie,” he instructs, his lips still at my hairline.
“Jake use to nip my bottom lip when he kissed me. He would kiss me for a long time, nipping my bottom lip a little. Then he’d peck me three times before he left,” I confess quietly to Zander’s shirt, feeling ashamed of what I’m asking him to do.
Zander’s breathing becomes choppy like mine. The hand in my hair comes to my chin and he tilts my head back so that I’m looking right into those sapphire eyes. “You tell me what you want, Sadie, and I’ll do it. I swear I’ll do whatever you want, but once I kiss you, you can’t just expect me to stop, to not want any more of you.”
A small gasp and nod is the only response I can give. My eyes brim with tears and I know that my tearful state isn’t just from remembering Jake’s touch. I’m crying because Zander’s touch is that perfect to me. I haven’t been touched in so long and I’ve never been touched like Zander touches me. Not in my entire life. Guilt shadows the moment and I try hard to ignore it.