Somehow, I had none. I was sure he was going to kiss me and I wasn’t moving. I wanted this.
My breathing sped up, and I wondered if he could see my pulse knocking on the skin at my throat. The slow torture of him inching toward me, blue diamonds blazing, had my knees ready to buckle. I locked them to keep myself upright, the swift rise and fall of his chest a giveaway of his own weakness. When he was finally close enough that I could feel the tiny flicks of his ragged breath, he turned his head ever so slightly and brought his attention to the place where the corner of my mouth met my cheek and settled his lips there.
The second his mouth made contact with my skin, it was like I’d been branded. I was sure I would forever feel his lips seared in that very spot.
My chest heaved and my breaths sputtered through my lips. Pins and needles pricked every inch of my being and those butterflies were battering my insides again. I was worried I might pass out. I wanted to run away, yet I wanted to hold him to this very spot at the same time. I wanted to say no, and I wanted to say yes. I wanted to get mad, and I wanted to get happy.
Lunatic.
Slowly, he reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding mine and laced it through the hair at the nape of my neck. He buried his nose in my throat and inhaled deeply, taking in my scent.
My eyes closed and my head dropped back. God, this feels good. I tried to memorize each sensation. It was my first experience with this and I never wanted to forget the details. The smell I’d come to know as Blake and the feel of his hand, secured at my nape. The way he explored me seeming to want to do the same. This is what this should have been.
His breath caressed the soft spot behind my ear sending a fresh wave of tremors through me. He took me in just a heartbeat longer, rubbing his nose up the length of my ear, then said in a breathy whisper, “Sweet dreams, Angel.”
He released me and, just like that, he was gone. After a few unblinking seconds, I hugged my core, found my legs, and forced them to take me inside. I couldn’t ignore the disappointment I felt, even though I knew I should be grateful he stopped.
What’s wrong with you? This is what you wanted.
Right?
Up on the roof, I popped in the ear buds to my iPod. Sarah McLachlan had always been my medicine, and I needed the good stuff right now. I listened to her songs on repeat sometimes, and they dissolved the salt in my wounds. Tonight, it was only fitting I play the first song that drew me to her, contemplating the first guy who drew me to him.
Possession.
I sang alongside her into the night, my voice heard by no one. The words resonated with me so deeply, I would have sworn this woman knew me.
I’d come to a realization tonight, after that almost kiss—I didn’t want this sleepless solitude anymore. This was no life. Constant fear and worry. Constant feelings of filth and betrayal. I just wanted to forget. I wanted to feel good.
I wanted . . . Blake.
No, you don’t.
Yes. I do.
I was talking to myself again. That was never a good thing.
But I couldn’t do that to him. I was too screwed up to drag him into my mess. He wouldn’t understand, and I wouldn’t want him to. He was too good of a person. I didn’t deserve him, and he didn’t deserve me. He needed someone who could reciprocate everything he was looking to offer. It was time to push back a little. Make him forget about me.
I wrapped my arms around myself and hung my head, feeling uncomfortable at the prospect of not having him in my life. He made me feel good. Made me forget.
Why not me? Why do I never get to be happy?
I was constantly running. I came here to find a standstill, and I was still going round and round. The problem was, I couldn’t escape myself; my demons were locked deep inside my soul. Persistent little fuckers. Would they ever go away? I could feel them in there. They were the ones whipping my nerve endings and causing the nausea. Keeping me barricaded from the rest of the world, sealed inside myself.
Fucking assholes.
“Leave me alone!” I screamed into the foggy night air. My words reverberated through the silence, becoming further and further away. My iPod chose that moment to begin Blackbird in Sarah McLachlan’s soothing tones. Ugh, why was every song on this playlist so appropriate?
Fucking playlist.
I drew my knees into my chest and began to sing. In hysterics, my fingernails gouged holes in the flesh on my shins. The words barely made it past my lips as salty tears invaded my mouth. Right here, I wanted to forget the person who did this to me, who made me this way.
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.