Instead I turn and hold her to me.
My hands splay across her back, my fingertips digging into her skin, and she wraps her arms around my waist. Her face presses into my neck and she brushes her lips across my collarbone, a feather light touch. My grip tightens on her and I push my face into her hair again, the ends tickling my nose. I shake my head slightly, holding her ever tighter.
Sex. Sex doesn’t hurt – it can’t hurt anyone. It’s all you’ll be good for. My fall back and way of coping. Just like her. The thing that keeps the demons at bay and stops them clawing at the corners of my mind.
This weekend, thirteen years since Mom died, the demons are stronger than ever. The memories of that weekend flood my mind and there isn’t anything I can do to stop them.
Except hold Megan.
I have no idea what it is about her, but I know that I need her. And I know that for all my forgetting over the years, she makes me remember. For that, I should push her away. I should run away screaming.
But the pain from remembering is nothing compared to the softness of her touch when she takes that pain away.
And that’s why I won’t use her, not in the way I’ve become so accustomed to.
I breathe in deeply and turn my face toward Megan’s, nuzzling the side of her head with my nose. “Lila will be at the house tonight?”
She nods against me. “Always on a weekend.” Her hands rub along my back in a soothing motion, slipping under my shirt, her hands like silk against my skin. Her fingers probe gently, coaxing my clenched muscles into relaxation.
“I want to stay,” I whisper. “Let me stay.”
She pulls back, taking one hand from my back and running it around my body. It climbs up my stomach and chest, finally resting against the side of my face. I open my eyes to meet her wide blue ones, the soft safety of them drawing me in.
“Of course,” she replies quietly. “Whatever you need.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I just need to be with you.”
Megan reaches up on tiptoes and kisses me softly. “All night?”
I can’t miss the wariness of her tone, two simple words riddled with uncertainty. My hands frame her face and I rest my forehead against hers.
“All night.”
Just Megan.
We move back to her bed and climb under the covers. Her body tucks into mine perfectly, my arms circle her like they were made to, and my heart pounds to a beat only she can hear.
My f**ked up coping mechanisms are trying to take over and it’s hard not to give in. Hell, I want to watch her give herself over to me. I want to watch her body arch and feel her muscles tighten as she lets go. I want to see the sparkle in her eye, hear the cry leave her body, feel her nails in my back.
But I have to remember it’s Megan. She’s more than any other girl. She’s something I don’t deserve yet, something I can’t give up.
I pull her tighter to me and bury my face in her hair. The soft strands tickle my face and I breathe in deeply. She stretches an arm over my stomach and threads her legs through mine, tangling us together, and leans her head back to kiss my neck softly.
In this moment she is mine. She might not be tomorrow, next week, next month, but right now … She’s f**king mine.
So I let myself hold her, wondering if there’s a chance she’ll ever know the peace she brings me.
~
Megan eyes me speculatively. “I have a question.”
“It’s never good when you have a question.” I grin.
“It’s not that bad!”
“Oh, yeah? Like that time in English when you promised it wasn’t a big question and kept the prof talking for half the class?”
She shrugs a shoulder, smiling a little. “Hey, it made for an easy class!”
I lean forward, putting my face to hers. “And a f**k off essay after.”
“Um, yeah.” She smiles cutely, wrinkling her nose. “Anyway …”
“Go on, then.” I hope to shit she doesn’t ask–
“Yesterday, when I asked which turtle you were.” Shit. “You … You seemed to go somewhere else. Like … You had no idea what I was talking about.”
I sit back, words and excuses swirling in my mind. “I was home-schooled,” I answer tentatively. “So I never really knew all that stuff. My Gramps taught me.”
“Your Gramps? Why not your mom? Or dad?”
Of all the days she asks me today. She asks me on the one day I can’t talk about it.
“I can’t …” I get up. “I can’t have this conversation today, Megs. Any day but today.”
“He’s in here somewhere.”
I had moved further into the corner of my bedroom, hugging my blanket tighter. Mommy still wasn’t home. I was still waiting, and now some funny lady was in my house talking about “he”. Was she here for me?
No. I didn’t want to leave Mommy. They always said it would happen, the big men. They always said that one day they would take me from my mommy.
I covered my face with my hands so they couldn’t hear me breathing and slipped under my bed. I moved back to the darkest corner, shaking and trying not to cry.
I don’t want to leave my mommy. I don’t want them to take me away.
My bedroom door opened, and I shook harder. No. Don’t let them find me. Please. The light flicked on, and I could hear their footsteps across my bare wooden floor. I could see the shadows as they walked further.
“Have you checked under the bed?” one woman asked.
“No. I’ll do that.”
Nonononono. Don’t find me. Please don’t find me.
A kind face appeared and morphed into a gentle, coaxing smile. The woman held out her hand. “Come on now, honey. Let’s get you out of here.”
I shook my head, shrinking back further. “I want Mommy,” I whispered.
“I don’t have her, sweetheart, but I can help you. You’re shaking, are you cold?”
I nodded.
“I have a nice thick blanket here for you. And some cookies – you like cookies?”
“Cookies?” I frowned.
“Yes. They’re really yummy and these ones have chocolate chips. Would you like to try one?”
I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was hungry. I scooted forwards a little bit. “A cookie?”
“Yes. Come out from under your bed, we’ll get you warm and you can have a cookie. Okay, Aston?”
“You know my name?” I bit my lip, my eyes wide, and moved back a little.