Lucian

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I knew I’d reacted like an asshole. She’d obviously been triggered by something I did—unintentionally, but still. And I’d freaked out, snapped at her. Stormed off like a petulant dick.

But holy shit, her sudden violence had shocked me witless. One second she’d been stroking my cock like it was her favorite thing in the world, shaking post-orgasm, staring up at me as if she couldn’t believe we were doing what we were doing. She was into it; there was absolutely no doubt in my mind. It had been 100% consensual. She’d been the one to reach for my fly, to take me in her hand. I’d have been utterly content to give her an orgasm and leave it there, if that’s what she wanted—I had zero expectation of reciprocity. Hope, yes; expectation, no.

Her small, soft hand had been gliding up and down my cock and she’d been watching intently, mesmerized, lower lip caught between her teeth. Her touch had been…beyond perfect. Exquisite. Incredible. I’d lost myself in her touch, in the silky slide of her hand around my cock. I’d collapsed onto her, turned sideways slightly so she could continue touching me.

That’s when she’d just…snapped.

She’d frozen, tensed completely, and stopped breathing. I had immediately begun backing away, wondering what had upset her so suddenly. And then, without warning, she began screaming—an ear-piercing shriek of agony and rage and terror the like of which I’d never heard before. Her fist had shot out, connected with my nose in a blast of shocking, unexpected pain, and she’d kicked at me, shoved me, thrashing wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs.

I’d scrambled off the bed, blood dripping down my nose, my whole face throbbing. When I turned to look at her, she was curled up in the fetal position, silent, shaking, arms around her knees.

I could not have been any more baffled. Then, or now.

I had my shirt on my shoulder, my boots in my hand, socks shoved into them. My nose, mouth, chin, and chest were sticky and crusted with blood. My balls ached and my cock throbbed—I’d been moments from coming when she’d freaked out. My head spun, and my heart clenched, twisting with confusion.

What the fuck, though? I didn’t get it.

My bare feet slapped on the sidewalk as I stalked from the bar toward the studio and the apartment above it. Despite the chaos inside me, I was lucid enough to notice that the travel agency, which was usually open from eight to five each day, was darkened. I paused, glancing inside. The shelves were empty, and boxes were stacked in clusters. The owner, an elderly man named…God, what was his name? I’d only met him a few times. Dave…Lipinski? Something like that. Dave was in the doorway, an armload of boxes towering past his head, one foot trying to kick open the door. I tossed my boots aside and hauled open the door.

“Here, let me help,” I said, taking the boxes.

An aging Honda crossover SUV was idling at the curb, hatch open; I set the boxes inside and pushed them as far forward as they would go.

“Thank you, young man,” Dave said. And then he frowned, looking at my face. “Looks like you were on the losing end of a disagreement.”

He was on the far side of sixty, neat and trim, graying hair swept over a bald spot. He also sported a silver goatee.

“Something like that, yeah.” I gestured at the rest of the boxes, half a dozen more or so. “I can grab the rest for you.”

“I’d be grateful.”

I loaded the rest of the boxes into his car, and then snagged my boots off the sidewalk. “Closing up shop, huh?”

Dave sighed, glancing back at the dark and empty interior. “It’s time. My wife passed away last June, and I just can’t stand to be in there without her anymore.”

“Yeah, I heard about your wife. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.” He jingled change in his pocket with one hand. “Heading to Florida. My brother lives down near Sarasota.”

“Well, good luck and have a safe trip,” I said.

He nodded. “Appreciate your help, son.” He turned away and leaned into the front passenger seat, pulling out a FOR SALE sign and a roll of tape. He taped the sign in the window, locked the door, got into his car, and drove away with a wave out his window.

I stood for a moment, eyeing the spacious interior of the empty shop, and the FOR SALE sign, which read: “For sale: 1500 sq.ft retail space and 1500sq.ft living space above. Sold as a unit. Cannot be split.” The price he was asking for the place was…well, low enough that it was obvious he just wanted to unload it as quickly as possible. “Priced to sell” would be a generous assessment, although I wasn’t a real estate expert by any means, and had no real concept of the comparables in the area; Mara would know, I was sure.

Why was I wasting my time considering it? I had no use for a retail space, or my own living space.

But if we owned this unit, we could connect the living spaces, and I’m sure someone could find a use for the retail space.

I got my phone out and snapped a photo of the sign with Dave’s phone number on it, just in case, and then headed back to the apartment above the studio. Corin was on the couch, playing a video game while Tate lay with her head on his lap and her feet propped up on the armrest, her hands laced on top of her belly. As I entered, they both shot me a glance, and then they both did a double take.

“Jesus fuck, Luce!” Corin paused the game and shot to his feet, helping Tate to sit up. “What the hell happened to you?”

I kept walking right past them toward my room. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

He caught at my arm and spun me around. “Too fucking bad, dude.” He gestured at my face. “Your nose is broken.”

“No shit.”

He braced his fingers on either side of my face, preparing to set the broken cartilage, but I knocked his hand away.

“Don’t need your fucking help, Cor. Thanks anyway.”

Corin frowned at me. “When did you become such a grouchy asswipe, bro?” He stepped away and held up his hands. “Fine, though. Whatever. Have a busted-up face. See if I fuckin’ care.”

I growled in my throat, tilting my face up to the ceiling, realizing I was, in fact, being a grouchy asswipe. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m being a dick, and I apologize.” I gestured at my nose. “Go ahead. Please.”

Corin braced his hands on my face again, and then glanced at me. “Deep breath. This doesn’t feel great, just in case you’ve never had your nose broken.”

“Nope, this is my first—FUCK!” I broke off with a shout as he jerked my nose straight forward so it settled back into place. I could immediately breathe more easily, and the pain, while still an intense throb, faded somewhat. “That does NOT feel awesome.”

Corin slapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome to the broken nose club, Luce.” He grinned at me. “You’re a real man now, son.”

I couldn’t help a smirk. “Fuck off.”

He jutted his chin at me. “Seriously, what happened?”

At that moment, Tate appeared with a wet washcloth and a gallon Ziploc bag of crushed ice. She gently used the washcloth to wipe away the blood from under my nose and my chin, and then shoved the bag of ice into my hands.

“Put that on your nose,” she ordered, and then cleaned off my throat and chest.

I held the ice to my nose and stood still as she wiped me off. “Thanks. Both of you.” I turned away and headed for my room.

Corin sighed in irritation. “Fine. Don’t tell us why you’re showing up shirtless and barefoot with a broken nose.”

I paused in the doorway of my room. “Sorry. I just…I don’t want to talk about it.”

Corin waved at me in dismissal. “Fine. Whatever. Be all closed off. It’s not like I’m your fuckin’ brother or anything.”

I hesitated, but couldn’t find the words to explain, or the will to trust him with the truth. I shut the door and collapsed onto my back on the bed, holding the ice pack in place.

Alone, I replayed what had happened, and tried to make sense of it.

She clearly had a hang-up about a physical relationship—that much had been obvious from the start, from the first kiss and how she’d reacted to it. She also, just as clearly, struggled with trust issues, and had no intention of letting anyone get close to her. But all that was easily understood from everything that had happened before today.

Her violent reaction to whatever I’d done…that was different. That was something else.

She’d snapped when I put my weight on her, pinning her to the bed.

Realization slammed through me, making my blood run cold and my heart sink. There was only one rational explanation for her reaction, and now that I saw it, I regretted my angry outburst even more.

I owed her an apology. A big one.

I’d no sooner levered upright and swiveled to sit on the edge of the bed when I heard the front door of the apartment open.

“Joss!” Tate’s voice. “Is everything okay? Luce came home a minute ago—”

“He’s here?” Joss’s voice cut in.

“Yeah, he’s in his room.” Tate, more subdued now. “But Joss—”

Seconds later my bedroom door flew open and Joss stood in the doorway, eyes sparking and spitting anger. She took two steps into my room and kicked the door shut.

“You’re an asshole,” she barked.

I stood up and tossed the ice pack onto the bed, remaining a few feet away from Joss. “I know. I owe you an apology.”

“How dare you call me a tease? How fucking dare you act like I’m messing with you on purpose!” She didn’t seem like she’d heard me. “You have no fucking clue what I’ve been through, Lucian. No clue! So fuck you for—”

“Joss!” I snapped, loud enough to be heard over her diatribe.

“What?” She bit out.

I held up both hands palms out. “I apologize for my reaction. I’m sorry, okay? I should have realized why you would freak out like that, and I should have been more understanding. I was an asshole, and I’m not excusing it.”

She deflated. “I’m sorry I attacked you. I just—”

I risked a step closer. “Joss, I know I have no idea what you’ve been through. I’m aware of that okay? But I’m also not stupid. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but just know that I understand where your reaction came from.”

“You understand.” This was a flat, disbelieving statement.

“As much as I can, yes. Like I said, I don’t expect you to tell me about it—”

She moved past me and sat on my bed. “Sit down and listen.”

“Joss, you don’t—”

“Just listen and don’t interrupt. I’ve never told anyone this before.” She sat in silence, just breathing, gathering her thoughts. “It was about six months after my parents died. I’d made it as far as Toronto. I had this idea I would stay there. Like, get a part-time job and sleep on the streets until I could afford a place. Something like that. It started out fine. I found a job at a hole-in-the-wall Chinese place, washing dishes for cash under the table. Shitty work and long hours and shitty pay, but it was something. I found a shelter nearby where I could sleep at night and take showers. For a few weeks, it was fine. I thought—I thought I had that shit figured out, you know? But then…I met a guy at the shelter. He volunteered there. Nice guy. Young, only a little older than me. Seriously cute, like he was…he was hot, and I was just this naive teenage girl. He seemed interested in me. We started hanging out. He’d meet me outside the Chinese food place after I got off work and we’d walk around and talk. He would buy me food. I was wary, because you know…guys, right? But he was just…nice.”

She hesitated again. “So I…we got closer. He’d sit on the same side of the booth as me when we sat down to eat. He’d put his arm around me. I’d hold his hand as we walked. Innocent enough stuff, right? This went on for weeks. I was close to having enough money for a deposit on a shared place with some students. The room was tiny, but the place was central and the girls seemed honest. I hadn’t thought about my visa or passport or anything, I just…I figured if I had the cash it would work out since the girls were from all over Canada and the U.S., and no one gave a second thought to me being a ‘foreigner’. I was seventeen, almost eighteen, and I was naive.”

She hesitated again, toying with the end of a dreadlock. She was quiet for a few moments, and then she continued, haltingly.

“His name was Rob—the guy from the shelter was Rob. One day we were walking around after having eaten, and we came to a big park—Trinity Bellwoods, I think it was. He said he wanted to walk through it, so we did. It was late, like two or three in the morning, because I worked at night and didn’t get off until after midnight. I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good idea for me to wander around places like this by myself at night, so I usually stayed away unless it was daytime. Anyway, I figured Rob was with me so it should be safe enough, right?”

She laughed bitterly. “He took us off the path, into this little grove of trees where there were some big rocks and stuff. Isolated. Silent. I knew, immediately, that I’d made a mistake, but it was too late. He—he looked around, checking for people, and then he just…changed. Like he’d taken off a mask or something. The nice guy just vanished, and he…he grabbed me. Threw me to the ground. Sat on top of me. Put his hand around my throat, choking me. He kissed me, but it was…rough, I don’t know how to put it. Not really a kiss, more just him mashing his lips on mine. I couldn’t fight him. He was too strong, too heavy, and I couldn’t breathe. I was trying, but I couldn’t get any leverage to hit him or knee him.”

“Shit,” I breathed.

“He got his belt open—I still remember the jingle, that sound. He had me pinned to the ground, choking me just enough to subdue me but not enough to make me pass out or anything. He had done this before—I remember thinking that as clear as day, he’s done this before. He had his thing out, and was pawing at my clothes. I had a lot of layers on, you know? I tended to wear pretty much everything I owned because it was late spring and it got cold at night. So he was trying to get through the layers.”

She paused, swallowing hard, a dread wrapped around a finger, tugging on it in agitation. “He…he got me to where he could, you know—rape me. In the moments before he did, though, he paused. He looked down at me, right in the eyes.” Her voice dropped an octave and went rough, mimicking a male’s voice. “‘You want this, don’t you? You know you want it, you little slut.’ I felt him—I felt—he had me pinned, and he was breathing on me, and his belt buckle was jingling, draping on my leg. The metal was cold, I remember that. He stank. He was so heavy. And his thing—he was trying to get at me. But he hadn’t pulled my layers of pants down far enough.”

She laughed again, a bitter huff of breath.

“Those layers saved me. He let go of my throat a little, focusing on trying to get my clothes off enough that he could get to me. He moved off me, and that allowed me enough leverage that I could get my knee between us. Once I had my knee up, I was able to kick at him. I hit him, kicked him, bit him. I fought like a fucking tiger.” She glanced down at her hands, clenched into fists, and forced them open, shaking them out. “I, um, I found a rock in the grass, and I hit him with it. A lot of times. He fell over and I got up, got my pants back up, and I ran. I have no idea what happened to him. If he—if I’d hit him enough with the rock to—to, you know, kill him, or just hurt him. I ran and I didn’t stop until I couldn’t run anymore, and then I walked.” She shook her head. “I vowed then that I’d never stop again for more than a few days, and I’d never trust another person again. Certainly not a guy.”

She sighed. “I, um. I was a mess, obviously. This woman, Val. She, um—she was walking by, talking on a cell phone. She saw me, and she just—she ended her call without even saying goodbye, and—and asked if she could take me somewhere safe I could get cleaned up. I was in shock, I think, because I just went with her. She took me to a place called Covenant House. It, um—they let me stay there.” Joss stared at her feet. “Covenant House literally saved my life. After Rob, I think I would have…I don’t know. Offered counseling to help me past what happened, food, safety.” She blinked hard. “They had this little library. It was a couple shelves in a corner, with a folding table and chair in front of them. I was put in charge of checking books out and in and shelving them. That…it gave me something to…to do.”

“How long did you stay there?” I asked.

“A little over a year. I knew I couldn’t stay forever. I didn’t want to leave, but…otherwise I’d just be trapped there forever. I remembered Dad telling me while he made pancakes one Sunday morning that he’d always wanted to go to Alaska. So when I left, my goal was to come here…for Dad.”

My room was filled with another silence I didn’t dare break.

“Joss, I—” I really didn’t have any idea what to say, though.

“I trusted Rob,” she cut in. “When I first got to Toronto, I thought I had a chance at figuring out a normal life. Get a job, get a place, maybe even a boyfriend. I was naive and stupid, and it almost got me raped. So yeah, I don’t trust anyone.” She finally glanced at me. “Least of all a man.”

I sighed. “And when I put my weight on you, it triggered you.”

She nodded, looking down at her feet. “Yeah. But you didn’t deserve that. I just—I was triggered, and I couldn’t help it.”

“I get it.”

She twisted on the bed, looking me. “Lucian, I—I need you know something.” She reached out and took my hands in hers. “Before that, before I freaked out—I wanted what we were doing. You had no way of knowing what would happen, that I’d react that way. I enjoyed what we were doing, Lucian. I promise you I did.”

I swallowed hard, grabbing the ice bag, removing my hands from hers. “I thought I’d misread things or something. I mean, I know I didn’t get actual verbal consent every step of the way, but when someone initiates contact, that’s pretty clear consent, right?”

She shifted closer to me. “Lucian, god—please don’t think that. I wanted it. I really did.”

“Did.” I sighed. “You did want it.”

She groaned. “Lucian, don’t.”

“It’s fine.” I felt myself shutting down, closing off.

She flipped her dreads backward and flopped onto the mattress with a groan. “Lucian, I’m just not there.”

“I get it.”

She sat up. “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry I’m so—back and forth with you, I just—it’s hard, okay? I don’t know how to do this, how to trust you, how to be the kind of person that just…” she trailed off with a huff. “I’m just not there, okay? I tried, and I couldn’t do it. I like you. I’m attracted to you. But I can’t do this with you. I’m sorry.”

I nodded, and tried to act nonchalant, like there wasn’t a cold hard pit at the bottom of my stomach. “It’s cool. Whatever.” I lay back on the bed and set the ice pack against my nose once more, closing my eyes.

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me, Lucian. I’m trying to be honest with you here. I told you what happened—and that’s a big deal for me. I don’t talk about myself with anyone, ever. I don’t trust people. I don’t stay in one place. This isn’t me. I’ve been trying, but I can’t do it.”

“Okay.”

She fell silent, and I expected to feel the bed lift as she stood up, but it never happened.

“Okay?” Her voice was tiny, soft. “That’s it?”

“Well…what is it you want of me, here?” I remained on my back, ice pack on my nose, eyes closed, even though my instinct was to turn to her, to comfort her, to tell her how much I wanted her, how not okay all this was. “You said you couldn’t do this—whatever this is. And I’m saying okay. Fine.”

Another long silence. “Whatever this is.”

“Yeah. Whatever this is, because I sure as fuck don’t know.”

“Neither do I! What do you want from me? How am I supposed to know how to navigate this shit? I’m fucked up, Lucian! My life is fucked up.” She went from loud to quiet in an instant. “What do you want from me?” This was more of an echo, a repetition out of exasperation.

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.” That was a damn dirty lie—I wanted everything from her.

I wanted to kiss her and never stop. I wanted to feel her beneath me, feel her legs wrapped around me. I wanted to go sleep with her and wake up next to her. I wanted all this so bad it fucking hurt, so bad it scared me stupid. But she couldn’t do this. She just wasn’t there. Which meant there was no fucking way in hell I could even let myself think any of that, much less say it to her.

Problem: I had already thought these things to myself, but it was too late to put the genie back in the bottle. Now I just had to live with it, and live with knowing it wasn’t going to happen.

I felt Joss beside me—her physical presence, yes, but also her energy.

“You don’t want anything from me.”

“Nope.”

“Bullshit!” she shouted. “Fucking bullshit!”

I sat up and threw the ice pack across the room so it smacked against the door and hit the floor. “You want to know what I want? I want you to quit fucking with my head!”

She reared back as if I’d hit her across the face. “Fucking with your head? The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re a goddamn tease! You said it yourself—you’re back and forth every two seconds! One minute you’re all no, go away, leave me alone, don’t touch me, and the next moment you’re all over me, kissing me like you’ve never been kissed in your fucking life, like you can’t get enough. And then you run off on me, all upset about who the fuck knows what!” I gestured angrily at the door. “And this is all before you broke my goddamn nose! What do I want? How about you figure out what the fuck you want! Do you want me, or do you not want me? You let me kiss you, and then you bolt. You let me give you an orgasm, and then you break my nose. And yeah, I understand the trauma of what you just told me about, but that doesn’t totally explain how hot and cold you are with me.”

I saw the anger in her, but I ignored it and kept going, letting out the fears and doubts I’d been harboring, that had been percolating inside me for months.

“This thing with you, to be honest, it’s the last fucking thing I needed. You’ve thrown my entire life into chaos, you know that? And I mean everything. You make me doubt myself. You make me doubt what I’m doing in life, where I’m going, and why. Like, why am I here? I mean in Ketchikan, not in some metaphysical sort of way, but shit—yeah, that way too. Like, all my brothers have…a thing. A purpose, a talent, or a career path set out in front of them. Every single one of them, except me. And I was fine with that until you showed up.”

“How in the hell does any of that have anything to do with me?” she demanded.

“Because you and I are a lot alike. We both have trust issues, we both have done a lot of traveling—for different reasons, but still. But you—you’re different. You have…” I hesitated over admitting this to her, to anyone, to myself. “Even you have something. You have that cafe bookstore you want to open. And I…don’t have any aspirations like that. Nothing. And I didn’t realize that until I met you.”

“Oh, poor you, poor Lucian. You don’t have a purpose? You can’t find your talent? Boo fucking hoo. Try losing both parents at the same time! Try being totally fucking alone in the world! Try being homeless in a foreign country, a girl, and a teenager! You have seven brothers who love you and take care of you! Not to mention Dru, Mara, Claire, Eva, Tate, and Aerie! You have a home, a family, a place to fucking be, a place that’s yours!” She stood up and backed away, facing me, in a full rage, now. “And how fucking dare you call me a tease! I’m not teasing you! I’ve never teased you!”

“Sure as fuck feels like it!” I snapped back. “You get me all worked up and let me think you’re into it and you want it and then all of a sudden you’re freaking out, running off on me, panicking, acting like—like—I don’t fucking know! Like you’re scared of me, or something! And all I can think is, what the fuck is wrong with me? What did I do? What am I doing wrong? I’m fine waiting, I’m fine going slow. But then we start kissing and you get into it and make me think you want to take things farther, so I do, and I try to be careful and make sure you’re with me every step of the way, but then you freak out all over again! What the fuck else am I supposed to think? Either you’re scared of me, or I’m missing something.”

She turned away from me, shoulders tensed as if expecting a blow, hands fisted at her sides, breathing hard as if restraining herself from physically attacking me again.

A beat passed in silence; the only sound was her ragged breathing.

Then, she whirls on me, eyes blazing. “It’s not about you! It’s about me!” She stomps closer, leaning forward. “I’m scared of you because you make me feel things I can’t afford to feel! You make me want things I can’t afford to want!”

“What is it you can’t afford to feel or want? Explain that much at least.”

“YOU! This! Us!” She gestures with both hands at me, at the door behind us. “EVERYTHING! I can’t afford to want you; I can’t afford to want to stay here. I can’t—I don’t belong here! I want all this and I can’t have any of it!”

“Why not?”

“Because—fuck, you wouldn’t understand.”

I stood up, now. Angry, frustrated. “Why not? And why not at least try me?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t!”

“You’re just scared.”

“Yes! I am! I already said I was, goddamn it!” She steps toward me, stomping a foot and glaring up at me.

“What are you so scared of?”

“We’re going in circles, Lucian.”

I groaned, spun away, ripping my hair out of the ponytail and running my hands through it, and then whirled back to face her. “Because you’re not actually answering me. It’s obvious you’re scared of me, of how I make you feel, but I don’t know why. You’re scared of things getting physical—that much is obvious, but I don’t know why. You’re scared of letting yourself belong here, but again, I don’t know why! And you won’t explain any of it.” I sighed, the anger going out of me. “You’re going to leave, right? So just go. Quit playing games with me, and just do what you do—run.”

“I’m not running! I haven’t been running, Lucian, I’ve been surviving!” She said this through a veil of tears she couldn’t hold back.

I want to hold her, comfort her, but I don’t let myself. “Yes, you are! And I get it, Joss, I really do. Your parents died, and you did what you had to do to survive. And then that shit in Toronto happened. I get it, okay? Trust is hard. I don’t really trust my own brothers, and they’re—they’re great. They’re amazing. Which is part of the problem, if I’m being honest, but that’s not what we’re talking about, is it? We’re talking about you. All this shit happened to you, and it was horrible and you’re scared and you don’t trust anyone. Totally understandable. But how long can that continue? Are you going to live your whole fucking life like that? It doesn’t have to be me. That’s fine. But someday, you have to trust someone.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk? You just said you don’t even trust your own brothers! Which is…that’s batshit crazy to me. I mean, what have you been through to make you so scared of trusting anyone? Unless there’s something you haven’t told me, something I’m not getting.”

“You’re an only child, you won’t understand.”

“I’m an only everything, Lucian! I’m alone! I’m fucking alone in this world. So no, maybe I don’t get it.”

“You’ve met all my brothers. You’ve spent time around them. You see what they’re like! Well, try being a quiet, introverted kid with brothers like that. Bast, Zane, Brock, and Bax were fucking legends in this town while I was growing up. They were the big dogs wherever they went, whatever they did. They were big, loud, brash, and cool. They had all the friends, they played football and basketball and soccer. They came home with black eyes and bloody noses at least once a week, bragging about the epic fights they’d gotten in. Zane knew he was going to be a Navy SEAL by the time he was a sophomore, Brock had his pilot’s license by the time he graduated, Bast was basically running the bar by himself by the time he graduated, and Bax was setting state football records left and right.”

I paced away, hair flying around my face, seething, now, venting all the shit I’d kept inside for so long.

“The twins were in a garage band by middle school, had paying gigs by high school, got signed by a label and put on a world fucking tour by the time they were nineteen. And don’t even get me started on Xavier. That kid is going to be the next Steve Jobs or Nikola Tesla. He was talking at nine months, reading at two, doing algebra by five…and on top of all that he’s a fucking rock star on the soccer field, although that’s just, like, an extra little thing he likes to do, it’s not even anything he finds important.” I paced, paced, paced, ranting.

“And then there’s me,” I said, bitterly. “I’m not an athlete. I’m not a musician. I’m not a pilot or—or a genius. I don’t even like working at the bar, but it’s all I fucking have so I do it. My brothers are all larger than life, and I’m just…I’m not like any of them. I’ve never been like any of them. I don’t fit in. I’m quiet and introverted. I’d rather read than hang out with them. I left home because I couldn’t handle living in their shadows any longer. Everywhere I went, I was Bast’s little brother, or Zane’s, or Brock’s, or Bax’s. I was the kid brother of the rock stars, or that really smart kid’s older brother. That’s how everyone defined me—by the way I couldn’t even begin to fill the shoes left by my goddamn brothers! And yeah, I know they’re great guys. Solid, kind, dependable, generous, all that. But that only makes it worse. It’d honestly be easier if they were douchebags, because then I could just dismiss them as good-looking and talented assholes. But they’re not! They’re good men. They’d do anything for me. I was a dick to Corin earlier and he still set my nose for me. That’s just how my brothers are.”

I choked on my own emotion, my own flood of words. Breathed through it, got it under control.

“And I’m not anything like a single fucking one of them. I don’t fit. I never have.” I shook my head and sank down onto the edge of the bed. “Once you’re gone, I’ll probably just leave too. I’m not good at fucking anything but that, so I might as well just…” I fluttered my hand vaguely. “Just go…somewhere. I don’t know.”

She sighed, and sat down beside me. “Lucian…Jesus. I had no idea you felt like that.”

“No shit. No one does. I don’t talk about me to anyone, ever.” I laugh. “I didn’t even really know I felt like that myself until you showed up and fucked my world all to hell.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

I nod, not looking at her. “I know. But you did. You showed up, threw my whole life into question, made me more attracted to you than I have been to anyone else in my entire fucking life, made me want you so bad it hurts, but you never let me get anywhere with you. Or if you do, you just rile me up and then run away. Again and again you’ve done that with me.” I wave at the room. “Even now, you get me to say all this, but I know exactly what’s going to happen—you’re gonna fucking bolt. I feel it. I know it. And you’re not gonna answer for shit before you do.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Yeah, well…life ain’t fair, is it?”

There was a long, long silence. I stole a glance at Joss. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, perched there as if ready to flee at any moment. Her eyes were on her feet, picking at the cuticles of one hand with the fingers of the other. She was frowning, biting her lower lip. Her dreads hung around her face in thick black ropes.

“I…” she began, and then trailed off.

I waited.

“I was a good kid, growing up. Obeyed my parents, didn’t stay out late, didn’t party. I never smoked weed, never got drunk with friends. I dated Nick Wellesley in the tenth grade, but then I found out he was messing around with three other girls and I just…I refused to date any of the guys at my school after that because they all seemed the same.” She rubbed her palms together, knees bouncing restlessly. “And then we went on vacation in Nova Scotia my senior year, and my parents died, and…and the one guy I tried to get to know, the one guy I was starting to trust…almost fucking raped me, and would have if I hadn’t fought him off. How am I supposed to trust anyone after that? After Nick, after Rob?”

“Joss—”

“You wanted to hear this, so shut up and listen.” She hesitated a few moments, and then continued. “I’m a homeless orphan without a high school diploma or GED. All I know is survival, emotionally and physically. I walked across all of fucking Canada, because yeah, I was scared to stop. So yeah, I’ve avoided guys, avoided people, avoided letting anyone get to know me.”

“Joss…what are you saying?”

“I’m saying there’s a pretty damn good reason I’ve been…wishy-washy with you. I like you. I’m attracted to you. I like how you make me feel. Trust issues aside, you make me crazy. Physically, you make me lose all sense of reason or self-control. You kiss me, and I just…I lose myself, and that scares the ever-loving shit out of me! I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t know what to do with it.” She gestured at the door. “Just now, in my room, with you—that was as far as I’ve ever gone, and if I hadn’t gotten triggered, I would’ve gone farther, because I like you more than I know how to deal with. But I don’t know how to stop, Lucian. I don’t know how to stop moving, I don’t know how to stop wanting you, and I don’t know how to stop being scared of you.”

“Joss—”

“I’m scared to fucking death of having sex with you because I’m a fucking virgin! Does that answer your question? I’m not a tease, I’m a virgin! I’m scared of how you make me feel, and I don’t know how to fucking do this with you because I’ve never done it before!”

She bolted, then, finally. Yanked my door open so hard it slammed against the wall, denting the drywall. I heard the front door squeak open and then slam closed, and then there was silence.

She was a virgin?

That explained…well…everything.

And made me feel like even more of a grade-A asshole.

Fuck. What a mess.

Everything was a mess, and I had no idea how to fix any of it.