All Broke Down

She makes a little squeak, and it takes her several long seconds before she rests her hands lightly against my bare chest.

“You have to actually listen to me, though.”

It’s distracting, feeling her breath against my skin, but I nod and say, “I will.”

“And you have to talk to me. Answer my questions. I can’t get to the root of your actions unless I know what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling.”

I stiffen. I know she’s right, but that doesn’t mean I relish the idea of talking about my shit . . . especially not with her.

When I don’t reply, she tries to pull back, but I keep my arms locked around her waist. So with her stomach still tight against mine, she leans back her shoulders and looks at me.

“If you want my help, that’s the price.”

I ask, “What if we worked out a trade? Like the other night.”

Pink floods her cheeks, and her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. “You want me to kiss you to get answers to my questions?”

“I was thinking more a question for a question, but I’m fine with your idea.”

She shakes her head quickly. “No, question for a question sounds good to me.”

I must be twisted because the more she tries to pull away, the more I want to kiss her. Maybe there’s something to that whole hard-to-get thing after all.

“First question,” I say. “What are you afraid of?”

“What do you mean? Like spiders? Heights?”

I smile. “No. I mean what are you afraid of with me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I trail my fingers along the smooth skin of her jaw and cup her cheek. “You want me. I know you do. But every time you get too close, you run. So what about me scares you so bad?”

She exhales, and her breath fans over my mouth, teasing me.

“It’s not you. Not really.”

“It’s not you, it’s me? That’s what you’re going with?”

“I should have said it’s not completely you. You’re intimidating, definitely. But it’s more that . . . I don’t know what I want.”

I use my other arm still around her waist to tug her body tighter against mine. “Liar. If the number of times you’ve looked at my mouth in the last minute is any indication, you know exactly what you want.”

“I can’t trust that. Myself. Have you ever woken up one day and realized that you’re not who you thought you were? That you have no idea who you really are? Because I have. And it’s awful. To not be able to trust your own mind. And I can’t think about what I want because I’m too busy trying to find the rug that was pulled out from beneath my feet.”

“Sounds to me like you’re thinking too much.”

“I have to think. Otherwise, how can I—”

“No, you don’t, babe. I might not know much, but I know the things that matter, the things you love . . . you don’t have to think about that. You just know.” Like I know that I’d do whatever it takes to stay on the team. Because it’s what I want . . . more than I want to party and have a good time, more than anything. “Fact is, knowing what you want and knowing who you are . . . those are two separate things. One is complicated. The other isn’t. You’re trying to take something simple and make it hard, and there are enough hard things in life without you adding more for yourself.”

She closes her eyes on a sigh, and her lashes are so long against her pink cheeks. She says, “I don’t actually think you need me to help you. You’ve got a better handle on things than I do.”

“Not true. You might think too much, but I don’t think enough.”

Her gaze meets mine again, and this time she’s smiling.

“Maybe we can both learn a thing or two from each other.”

“Deal,” I say.

“Deal?”

“You help me get my life back on track, help me turn things around, and I’ll help you figure out what you want.”

“And I suppose in your plan, us sleeping together is the first step to figuring out what I want?”

“It’s an option.”

“Silas . . .”

“When I look at you, I see a girl who has it all together, laced up tight like mistake isn’t even a word you know. But I think you’re starting to suffocate. I think that’s why you got arrested Friday, why you came with me, because you needed to breathe.” Her top knots by her neck in a silky bow, and I pull on one of the strings, undoing it. She doesn’t stop me.

“Don’t you think this will only complicate things?”

“Not if you let simple things stay simple. We don’t have to sleep together, not to figure out what you want. I could just touch you. Because Jesus, Dylan, I’ve never cared less about my problems than when I had my fingers inside you. I think I could forget the whole world if I had my tongue there instead.”

And if I were really inside her, inside that tight heat, Christ, I’m aching just thinking about it. She swallows, and when I run my hand down her neck, I can feel her pulse fluttering wildly beneath her skin.

“Silas . . .”

I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t, and I’m fine with that because I like the way she says my name. Breathy and sweet.

I run my thumb over her pulse again and again, and I know she feels the pull just as strong as I do.

“Don’t think,” I tell her. “Not this time. Go deeper. What do you want? Not what should you want. You want me gone, push me away. You want me here, pull me closer. Simple as that.”

“Simple,” she repeats.

Then she kisses me.

It’s tentative at first, but she doesn’t hesitate when I open my mouth against hers. She tastes just as sweet as I remember, and her tongue slides against mine, hot and needy. Her hands on my chest slip down to grip my waist, and that glide of skin against skin is so damn good. But not enough. Not even close.

I press her back against the counter, and these athletic shorts do nothing to disguise how much I want her. My hardening c**k pushes against her belly, and she breaks the kiss to lean back onto the counter and look up at me. I imagine her that way on my bed, propped up on her elbows, waiting for me to crawl up her body.

Now that the bow on her top is undone, I can see that the line of buttons extends all the way up to her neck. She looks so prim and proper, and it drives me f**king crazy. I just want to rip those buttons off, but the shirt probably costs more than most of my belongings combined. Instead, I carefully slip the first button out of its hole. She doesn’t move, only stares up at me, so I undo a second one.