I KNOW HE’S out there in the hall. I hear him talking. I want to open the door, but I daren’t. I’m scared. He rejected me, but he wants me. I’m so confused right now. He doesn’t understand how I feel. How can he? I wanted to use the guy in the club because I wanted to control how far the situation went. I wanted to be able to shut it down on my terms. I had no intention of ever going any further. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. But with Brad, I do want to. I want to so much—even though he is what he is—I feel him in a way I’ve never felt anyone. But I’m broken. So fucking broken. Damaged goods.
So I push him away. I don’t want to feel the need I do when I’m with him. The need to have sex. I don’t want to feel unwanted, used, so I don’t let him in. I push him away, and now I’ve made him feel used and rejected. It’s cruel really. Sick—because I feel it too. But the feeling I get when I’m aroused… makes me feel dirty—like I shouldn’t be doing it.
I was raped, over and over again. How is it possible to feel like I want that again? With Brad. How can I want that? I’m sick. It’s wrong. I should never even think of having sex ever again. How could I want to? The door opens then, and he stands in the doorway, watching me with appraising eyes. It’s then I notice that I’d actually moved from the bed and was halfway between it and the door. I straighten my back, and lift my chin, swiping at my face to clear the tears. He drops his eyes then and moves to the bag which he rummages through before bringing out some crumpled joggers and a t-shirt. I watch as he dresses, and that feeling comes crashing back. Before I can stop the words, they tumble from my mouth.
‘You don’t know how I feel. Because I do want you.’
His back straightens, but he doesn’t turn. And as if my brain has shorted, allowing my mouth to speak of its own accord, the words just keep on coming. ‘I feel you so strongly. I ache in places I shouldn’t. I yearn for you when you aren’t close, and I don’t know how or why that is because I find myself wanting to do the very thing that broke me. And I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m damaged, Brad, sick. And it’s all wrong. All of it. It makes me feel sick, that I want you like that—because of what I want you to do to me.’
He takes in a huge breath and turns around to face me. His eyes are swimming with tears, and he looks like he’s going to break in front of me. He takes a step in my direction and then another. Slowly, he pulls me into his chest, and he holds me. And I can’t take anymore. I crumple. He takes me to the floor and sits with me in his lap. Stroking my hair.
‘I… I… I’m so fucking sorry I make you feel that way, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.’ His voice breaking on the last word makes me look up. His eyes bore into mine and that all too familiar feeling comes creeping back. The ache I feel, my heart beating fast, the flutter in my stomach at his nearness. And then that shudder, followed by goosebumps. The hot, warm feeling that rolls through my body. Then bam, I feel dirty, disgusting. I squeeze my eyes shut and hold back the bile that rises up my throat. I want him so badly, but I can’t make this feeling go away. He stiffens and lifts me from his lap. He looks like his whole world just fell apart.
‘I can’t watch you battle with yourself like this. One way or another, I need to leave you alone. I was going to tell you earlier that I’m being re-assigned permanently, someone else will be with you from now on. Not sure who yet. I’ll let you know when I find out.’
I nod in answer. ‘I’ll still be on hand for blood. Zoe can still draw from me every day until we sort out a better way, going forward.’
I keep on nodding. I should say thank you for that, but the words don’t come. I’m terrified. I don’t want to be around anyone else like I have been with him. I don’t think I can go a day without him again. I start to shake. And I’m not sure which is bothering me the most: him leaving me, or having to be around another like I am Brad. I need to tell him—ask him to stay. I take a breath and try, but it gets stuck in my throat as he stands, leaving me on the floor. He wipes his hands nervously on his joggers and looks down at me.
‘I’ll let you sleep,’ he says and then the panic sets in. I scream as he turns away. It’s high-pitched and hysterical like it came from someone else. But he turns, and I see indecision in his eyes.
‘Please don’t leave me,’ I ask. It sounds like a plea for my life.
‘Sweetheart, I’m not gonna let you put yourself through this every time we get close—and if I stay, we will get close.’ He doesn’t move, stays stock-still with what feels like a huge gap between us. I rush to him and throw myself at him. If he won’t listen, I’ll show him that I need him—that I want him. Feelings be damned. He catches me in his arms, and his strong hold keeps me from collapsing at his feet. I feel so pathetic, but I can’t let him leave me. I can’t.
‘Please… just be with me. Make it stop, make it go away, please, Brad.’
He holds me tight, and I feel him shaking against me.
‘Tell me what you need?’
‘I need you to just make me forget.’
He looks pained as he looks down at me. But then his face changes, and I no longer see pain or indecision, in its place is an unwavering determination.
He moves around me and picks me up, placing me on the bed. I expect him to undress and come back to me, but he doesn’t. He climbs onto the bed next to me, turns on his side with his head propped on his elbow, and stares intently into my eyes. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. ‘I thought—’
‘Shhh, I know what you thought, but that’s not what you need.’ He smiles sympathetically.
‘But I want you to make it better, I want to be with you.’
‘And you are. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.’ He smiles and tucks the hair, which has fallen in my face, behind my ear, making me smile. Our eyes meet, and I feel that undeniable connection that always feels like we’re attached by an invisible thread that just stretches and shortens but never breaks, however far away he goes. But when we’re close like this, it’s like it pulls me in. Like my body needs his. And denying that fact hasn’t got me anywhere. My feelings for him are strong, no matter how confused my emotions are. I was once this happy-go-lucky, out for a good time girl. Now she is nowhere in sight. It seems like a lifetime ago. I felt like I’ve spent an eternity in hell. And Brad has helped me to claw my way back. I would no longer be that version of me. I have to accept that. But I didn’t need to be like this either. I want to be happy again—to feel again, and I want Brad to help me get there.
‘Do you trust me?’ he asks, and I don’t think about it. I nod without any hesitation. He smiles so hard, and then he moves in like he’s going to kiss me. But he doesn’t. He lets me kiss him. And I do. Like my life depends on it. I clash my teeth against his because I’m so desperate to feel him.
‘Whoa whoa, slow down, sweetheart,’ he chuckles, making me blush a little. I look down, away from his gaze, and he tilts my chin with his fingers to get my attention back. I see heat in his eyes, and I feel that fluttering in my stomach. He inhales deeply through his nose, and his eyes close—he looks pained.
‘What? What’s wrong?’
He opens his eyes.
‘Nothing, sweetheart. You just… I can smell your arousal.’
My eyes widen, and he chuckles.
‘Nothing to be ashamed of… Hey, eyes on me, beautiful.’
My eyes snap back to his. Beautiful? Does he really think that? He strokes his fingers up my arm and along my shoulder, up the side of my neck, and I moan because his touch is so good. His eyes close again, and he swallows like he has something stuck in his throat. I don’t touch him. I daren’t. But I enjoy the simple touch of his fingers gliding over my skin.
‘Do you trust me?’ he asks again. I nod. ‘Words, sweetheart.’
‘Yes,’ I tell him on a breathy exhale. He nods his approval.
‘Good, now I’m gonna lie here next to you tonight. I’m not going anywhere that okay?’
I nod, a little confused. Is he going to get undressed or just literally lie how he is? I don’t ask. But just then he stands at the other side of the bed, and he strips down to his boxers. My stomach twists at the thought of what we might do, and fear grips me hard. But I swallow it down. This is Brad. He gets into the bed, and it’s then I realise that I should maybe do the same. I stand and begin to undress.
‘Sweetheart, you don’t need to get undressed.’
‘I want to,’ I tell him. He holds his hands up in surrender like I’ve told him off.
‘No arguments from me, beautiful. This goes at your pace or not at all.’
I look at him then. I mean really look at him. I see the sweetness under the all male façade. Not many see this side of Brad—he’s always jovial and fun—the joker of the group. But not with me, not today. I undress and climb under the covers. It’s a really big bed, so I scoot over a little nearer to him. He has a smirk on his face.
‘What are you smirking at?’
He grins now and shakes his head.
‘Nothing.’ He grins.
‘Tell me!’ I giggle and slap at his shoulder. He clasps his hand around my wrist so gently, and when his eyes meet mine, his pupils dilate, and my stomach flips. I must be blushing because my face is burning like the sun. Oh jeez, what do I look like? He tugs a little on my wrist, and I move closer until he lets me go and my hand falls to his shoulder. Our noses touch, as we gaze into each other’s eyes. This feels so right. We lie there for a few minutes until our lips finally meet in a slow kiss, which speaks a thousand words. He doesn’t move to take things further, and I think he really meant it when he said this goes at my pace. He is giving me all the control. I just have to have the courage to take the leap. Maybe in a little while, I will. His hands stroke my arms, shoulders and neck. It’s so soothing, so calming, my eyes close, and he continues. So nice.
***
I wake up, and the sun is streaming through the open curtains. I have my back to Brad, but I know he’s still there. I can feel the warmth from his body on my back. I turn to face him and find him wide awake, watching me. He smiles as our eyes meet. And I can’t help but smile back.
‘Morning, beautiful.’ His eyes are assessing me.
‘Morning.’
He reaches for my hand and entwines our fingers. This feels great. He presses his forehead against mine.
‘You slept well,’ he says softly. I really did. ‘No nightmares,’ he states as if he can read my mind. ‘That’s gotta be a step in the right direction,’ he says smiling. ‘You hungry?’
I nod.
‘Come on, let’s go and eat.’
He pulls me to him and places his lips against mine in a small chaste kiss. It’s nice. It makes my heart race and my belly flutter in a good way. When he starts to pull away, I follow him, trying and failing to keep our lips together. He sits up and pulls me to sitting by our linked hands.
‘Come on, let’s eat. I smell pancakes, and I know you like those.’
‘I’ll just wait here if you like?’
He shakes his head no. ‘Uh uhh, nope, you come too. You need to get out of this room. Come on.’ He tugs at my hand, making me laugh. I get up onto my knees in front of him, and I kiss him again. This time I don’t let him pull away. I pull him closer—he’s still only in boxers. He comes closer but keeps enough distance between our bodies that I can’t wrap my arms around him like I want to do.