This had happened twice over the last three years. I'd deluded myself into thinking I could have a casual relationship without Bell knowing, but both times had been a disaster.
The problem wasn't her. It was me.
First Damion, and then the next two guys.
The common factor in all those wrecks was me.
The first night Damion came by the trailer while my mother and Derek were out, we just kissed at first, then he put his hand down my pants. I was only fifteen, and I wasn't close to any girls at school, so I had no idea about sex in real life. To my surprise, I liked how Damion made me feel.
After that, he'd come by once or twice a week, usually when my mother and Derek were out, but even if they were home, he'd casually ask if he could watch our television, since his satellite wasn't working properly.
As soon as we were alone together, he'd have his hands down my pants in a hot minute.
“Almost sweet sixteen,” he'd moan as he kissed my neck and made me feel like my head was going to explode.
He was twenty, and at the time I thought I was pretty hot shit to have a twenty-year-old interested in me. Damion got me hooked on him. With his tongue in my mouth and his hand down my pants, he made me come, so many times.
I resisted letting him go “all the way,” but then he started showing less interest, coming around less often. So, one night, it just happened. I mean, I let it happen. I had on my best underwear, so I had to live with knowing some part of me had planned it.
When he put it in, the pain really surprised me. Touching had felt so good up to that point, and despite what I'd heard about losing your virginity, I thought it would be different for us. I asked him to stop, but he shushed me. I asked again, and he glared down at me.
We were in my bed, in my little unheated bedroom. Summer was almost there, but the room still had that damp chill that never really went away. My bed was narrow—a child's bed—and it made a terrible squeaking I was afraid might wake up Bell.
Damion glared down at me, with his dark brown eyes that looked almost black at night like this. He had the same dark, straight hair as his father. Red-faced and frustrated like this, he looked exactly like Derek, which made me feel terrified in that moment.
“I'll slow down,” he said. “But I ain't stoppin'. Just hang in there, it'll get better in a minute, trust me.”
“Okay.”
“Tell me you love me.”
I forced myself to say it. “I love you.”
He kept going, and it didn't get better, but it didn't get worse, either.
A girl who knew better, and wasn't so desperate to be loved by someone would have stopped fooling around with Damion as of that night. I could have said no to him, and I could have put the deadbolt across the door so he couldn't let himself in.
But I didn't know any better, or maybe I just didn't care. I was ready for the world and whatever it had in store for me, even if it meant getting hurt. I was ready to hurl myself into that pain, just to see what happened.
Chapter Eighteen
Sawyer gave me a ride on his bike to Bell's elementary school. I would have walked, but then I'd have been late for sure. Time had passed too quickly when I was in his arms.
As discussed, Sawyer dropped me off around the corner from the school's entrance, so Bell wouldn't see me on a motorbike. Thanks to the ride, we were actually a few minutes early. Sawyer pulled into a shady spot, underneath a big tree, and killed the engine.
We took off our helmets, and I said, “You can just dump me and go.”
“Dump you?”
“Whatever.” I started to walk toward the school, but he jumped in front of me.
I pushed him aside and started to run.
He caught me, his arms around my waist.
“Aubrey, what's wrong? Why does it seem like you're always running away from me?”
“I don't know.”
He turned me to face him. “Do I scare you?” His green eyes looked so sad as he asked the question, like he was the one afraid, not me.
“Relationships scare me. Not sure if you noticed, but I suck at them.”
He grinned, which made me able to start breathing again. “I suck at relationships, too. The last time I cared about a girl was over a year ago. She was my girlfriend. I think she was trying to get something from me that I wasn't able to give.”
“Sounds about right.”
“She's engaged now, or maybe married. So I guess that thing she wanted did exist in the universe, just not in me. I wasn't good enough.”
The look on his face, plus his words, crushed me. How could Sawyer think he wasn't good enough? The world was a really messed-up place if he believed that.
He continued, “She got the fat all sucked out of her ass and then threw me out with all the ass fat.”
Was he joking? What the f**k was he talking about? He rambled on about ass fat.
The bell above the school rang, which meant the kids would be streaming out the doors any moment.
“You're not making any sense,” I said.
He blinked rapidly. “Her name was Janine, and she got liposuction done. She didn't need it done, but then she did, and I think it was a test for me, and I failed. I kept saying the wrong thing. I say a lot of things, and some of them are bound to come out wrong.” He looked down, shaking his head, then looked back up at me, a wry smile on his face. “You know, some people have real problems. Janine couldn't understand that. She'd talk about her h*ps like they were an atrocity.”
I didn't say anything, but I wondered, how bad were the hips, exactly?
Sawyer continued, “Never mind about Janine and all that. It's in the past. I know I have a big mouth, and I ramble a lot, but I swear there's a point in here somewhere.” He fixed me with his gaze, his green eyes looking almost emerald in the dappled light beneath the leafy tree. “My point is I really like you, and I want to spend more time with you, and if it means I have to wear a muzzle so I don't talk and ruin everything, then I will.” He grinned. “Wait. Your face. I think your face is broken, around your mouth area. Is that a smile?”
I widened my smile with a sigh. “We can hang out again, soon.”
“Tomorrow?”
I wriggled out of his grasp and started walking backward toward the school, in the direction of children's laughter. “I have tomorrow off work, but you probably know that.”
He pumped his fist in the air, like he'd won a prize. “I have most of tomorrow free.”
I kept walking. “Call me, or text me.”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pretended he was texting me that moment, which had the desired effect of making me laugh.