Live Me Page 21

  “What’re we doing?” I asked as I was led to the back of my apartment.

  He tugged me along. “Stopping myself just now was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my fucking life, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again.” He shivered noticeably. “I’m putting you to bed since you said you slept so well last time.”

  I raised my eyebrows, looking up at him.

  “Sleep, Angel. Just sleep. I still won’t get to see the front of that pink lace, don’t you worry.” He smirked down at me.

  Another warm blush met my cheekbones.

  Like a gentleman, Blake looked away while I changed into my pajamas, then helped me under the covers. He kissed me, placing an arm on either side of my body, and pushed up to propel over me and onto the other side of the bed. Shucking off his shoes and socks, he turned to face me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Staying with you. It’s Thursday. I won’t bite.” He winked and slid his hands under the side of his face.

  Knowing I didn’t want him to go anywhere, I didn’t protest.

  I mirrored him, staring in awe at his beauty. Twinkling sky blue eyes looked back at me, and my subconscious gave me a pound for agreeing to have him in my bed. In the quiet of the moment, I reveled in that fact, taking note of my slow breathing and tame heartbeat. I was so comfortable around this guy. So secure.

  No words were spoken as we took each other in, relaxing in the comfort of one another.

  As the time passed, Blake’s eyes grew heavy. Fighting against his lids, they’d flutter open each time they slid closed. I smiled at the cuteness of it. On one of the descents, I couldn’t help myself and reached out to stroke one with the tip of my finger. Blake’s mouth shifted to a smile.

  “Thank you.” The words tumbled from my mouth.

  With his eyes still closed, he answered, “For what?”

  Still caressing his lids, I answered, “For you. For this.”

  I leaned over and kissed him softly, making sure to breathe him in as I did. I wanted to remember this for the rest of my life. Every detail—the smell of his skin, the feel of his breath, of his lips, the divot in the center of his collarbone, and the swell of his biceps tucked under his perfectly relaxed face. All of it.

  A lump rose in my throat at the beauty of this moment. At the sincerity and realness Blake was showing me. And at the lack of any lust or want swimming between us.

  Just comfortableness.

  Security.

  I kissed Blake on the tip of his nose and rose from the bed, needing to get down all my feelings before I lost the words. “Sleep. I’ll be right back.”

  My journal was still in the same spot I’d left it on the couch. Opening it, I went to the first clean page and let my hand take over. I’d crossed out and rewritten words like love and meant to be, not believing this could be real. The enormity of what I felt for this man petrified me.

  Flipping back through the last few weeks of entries, my eyebrows knitted together as I realized that almost every single one was about Blake. From the second I’d met him, he’d dominated my thoughts. Invaded my psyche. Lived under my skin.

  I held the book open to something I’d written when Blake had showed up at my apartment with lunch all those days ago. Making the decision, a smile slid across my face, and I determinedly walked back to my bedroom. Though he hadn’t moved, Blake’s face wasn’t relaxed in peaceful slumber, and I could tell he was still awake.

  The bed dipped with my weight, and I tucked one leg beneath me, watching as his eyes dragged open, then fell to the book resting on my thighs.

  “I want to share a piece of me with you.” I absentmindedly picked at the edges of the worn pages.

  “I was only kidding. I know that book is special to you. I don’t expect you to let me read it.”

  “You’re special to me.” I lowered my eyes. “And I want you to know. To let you in.” My gaze met his. “To give you a piece.”

  Wordless, Blake sat up. Reaching out, he cupped my behind, and dragged me toward him to sit between his legs. He overlapped my legs with his and rested his hands on my thighs. “I’m all yours.”

  I smirked at the sentiment, and it relaxed me enough to open up the rest of the way and begin.

  Flash.

  He points the camera at me, and I swear he sees my soul.

  Flash. Flash.

  I wasn’t ready for that one, and I scramble to cover up.

  Flash. Flash. Flash.

  Pieces of me, captured for him. Images that he can hold.

  Try as I might to deflect, he pushes further.

  I’m anxious to hide, trying to find cover,

  But he peels my layers back one by one.

  I keep thinking it won’t feel good.

  That I’ll feel exposed and naked.

  Bared to him.

  But the more he reveals, the deeper he goes.

  The further he pushes, the more he sees me,

  The more comforted I become.

  Flash. Flash.

  With every bright light, he comes more into focus.

  Each click stabs at my heart, trying to break through.

  Each click reveals another piece of my soul.

  Another inch of me.

  For him.

  Flash.

  Staring down at the page my cheeks warmed as the bared feeling of letting someone see a little bit of my insides swirled through me. Had I done the right thing?

  Blake took my face between his hands, the emotion behind his stare quelling any insecurity I’d had a moment ago. “Your mind fascinates me.” He searched my eyes as if he was trying to see past them, into the very place that intrigued him. “That was deep. And eloquent. And beautiful.” He brushed his nose against mine and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” His eyes shimmered. He looked like he wished he could reach out and erase my pain, change my past. And for a second, I wished he could.

  But that was a silly notion.

  Pasts are engrained in you forever. Deep little cuts on your soul.

  “Thank you,” I murmured in a voice that struggled to exist.

  He kissed my nose and wrapped his arms around me, scooping me to his chest before laying us down. “Sleep, my angel.” He burrowed his nose into the top of my head as his body relaxed into mine. “Sweet dreams.”

  “Sweet dreams.” My body sank into his, molding to the curves like it was made to be its match.

  Breaths slowed, muscles relaxed, consciousness ebbed away. I drifted off wrapped in a cocoon of Blake. Warm, soft, safe . . .

  It was as though my being could sense his absence. Waking from a state of euphoric bliss, I was met by an empty space. A hole sank into my heart as my fingers sought out the vacant spot beside me, the warmth of his body still lingering on the rustled comforter. I leaned over, inhaling the faint trace of his cologne.

  Rain pelted against my window, capturing my attention and I rolled over with a groan. I hated the rain. Like severely hated any form of precipitation. Snow could be pretty—once or twice a year—but that pretty white fluff always turned into nasty black mush, sloshing underfoot, and leaving dirty little marks along the bottom of your pants from what your feet kicked up. Rain, however, was my most hated. My mom used to keep me home from school when the weather was bad, and I never quite got used to it after that. I guess she spoiled me.

  My phone buzzed on my nightstand. Resting beside it was a torn piece of paper that caught my attention. I lifted it and fell onto my back, staring at Blake’s neat penmanship.

  I wish I could’ve stayed to wake up with you, but I needed to wash off the club and get to class. I’ll think of you, though. Thanks for last night.

  <3 B

  Smiling, I reached to the side, and fished for the phone that wouldn’t stop its incessant ringing. Sandra’s name flashed across the screen. “Hello,” my voice croaked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hello.”

  “Hey, soul sista.” she trilled
, sounding too cheery for such a crappy day.

  “Why do you sound so uppity?” I draped an arm across my eyes.

  “Oh my God, I had the most ah-ma-zing night ever! I need to tell someone. By the way, are you going to class? You have a thing with rain, right?”

  “Jury’s still out. Go ahead, spill it.”

  “Okay, so Jeremy—you remember Jeremy, right? So, he shows up at my door last night, telling me he loves me and that he’s never felt this way before and that he wants to take it to the next level!”

  I pulled the phone away, wincing as she squealed in delight. When I thought it was safe, I put it back to my tender ear. “That’s awesome, San. What’d you say?”

  “Duh, what do you think I said? I’ve been lusting over the guy for weeks. I contemplated playing hard to get for all of five seconds before I grabbed him by the collar and had my way with him—twice.” She sang the happiest little giggle I’d ever heard.

  “Aw, Sandra. I’m so happy for you.” I rolled onto my side, brushing my palm over the spot in the bed where Blake had slept, recalling a memory of my own.

  “I know, right? Come on, don’t be a pooper. Meet me on the corner. Don’t make me sit in this boring-ass class alone, holding all this in. Please, come with me. Pleeeeeease.”

  I hesitated for a second, picturing her disappointed pout. “Fine, give me a few.”

  I scooped up the pillow Blake had slept on in a bear’s embrace, then I rolled onto my back, drawing in his scent once more so it would last me the day. Something felt odd and off, but I attributed it to the weather and the way my body repelled it. Shaking it off, I tossed his note in my bedside drawer and dragged myself out from under the covers.

  By the time I was leaving, the rain had stopped, leaving a film of nastiness in its wake. Thick, muggy air slapped me in the face, coating my skin in a sticky sheath the second I opened the door. It was so disgusting, even my eyelashes were having a bad hair day.

  I stood in the doorway, contemplating running back inside and nose-diving under the covers; I could stay there until the sun decided to come back. Pulling the hood over my head, I hitched my bag further up on my shoulder, shoved my hands in my pockets, and began the trudge toward campus.

  I couldn’t shake a sense of foreboding that clung to the air, pecking at the back of my brain. I pushed it aside and pulled my hood further up. It was starting to rain again—the annoying, barely there rain that just spit at you enough to annoy the shit out of you.

  I turned the corner and spotted Sandra hovering under a subway entrance. “You do love me!” She gave me a peck on the cheek and hooked her arm with mine.

  “Yes, I do. I’m not a total bitch.” I squeezed her arm. “Shall we?”

  Huddling into each other, we maneuvered the slick New York City streets in a swift walk toward campus. Sandra chattered the whole way while I tried my darndest to dodge raindrops—hopping over puddles and tossing her long curls over my head to shield myself. We probably should have been more cautious, but feeling lighthearted with her, I was reveling in the fact that I was enjoying the rain for the first time and wasn’t paying much attention to anything else. Stupid.

  The campus was in sight. Just a few more feet. “Come on! I’ll race ya.” I dropped Sandra’s arm and took off in a sprint. Hopping onto the curb, I completed a spin when headlights caught my attention. Fast moving headlights. Barreling straight for her.

  Sandra.

  Time stood still. Everything slowed while the pounding of blood in my ears intensified so it was all I heard banging on top of white-noise humming in the background. The air in my lungs pushed up and trapped in my throat. Tingles started at my spine and prickled down my legs making it an effort to put one in front of the other and force them to work right and ultimately, they failed.

  I watched it happen.

  Paralyzed and unable to do anything to stop it. Sandra’s face contorted, registering the panic in mine. Her mouth dipped at the corners as her head slowly turned to focus on my line of vision.

  It was too late.

  Ginger curls.

  All I saw were ginger-colored curls flying in the air before landing in a motionless heap on the sidewalk a few feet away.

  “Sandra!” My voice shrilled in my ears, my feet finally remembering how to work. “No!” I scrambled to her side, scooping the top half of her limp body into my arms. I tried to assess her in any way I could. Smoothing her hair from her bloodied forehead, I prayed for any sign of life.

  Her eyes were partially open—slits of emerald blankly looking back at me through streaks of crimson. “Sandra? I’m here with you, sweetie. Can you hear me? Please wake up.” I cried, begging her. “Help! Somebody do something!” A frenzied panic whipped around in my chest.

  A crowd began to gather, voices asking questions, but I barely noticed through the fuzz in my head. All I could do was rock. Back and forth. Rocking her in my arms

  It felt like an eternity before I heard the sirens. Flashing, swirling lights approached and then the doors flew open. Instantly they were on us. Hands everywhere. All over me. Removing me. Dragging me away and laying her flat on the ground. I pulled my knees to my chest, tears mixed with the rain streaking down my face, and I watched and prayed. Why couldn’t I have yelled to her to get out of the way? This is all my fault.

  “No!” I screeched, my own voice piercing my eardrums. Crawling, I tried to get to where they were frantically pumping on her chest, feeling the bile rise and pool at the back of my throat. Each compression felt as though it was stabbing me in the heart. “Please, Sandra, please!” I hoped she could hear me.

  This can’t be happening.

  With a gurgling sputter, the best sound I’d ever heard escaped her lips, and her chest heaved, choking. My body fell forward, doubling over onto my knees. Oh, thank God.

  The paramedics worked desperately to stabilize her—strapping her to a board and immobilizing her neck before covering her face with an oxygen mask and hauling her into the ambulance.

  It was then the police officer noticed me. “Miss, are you okay? Were you hurt? Paramedic! I need another paramedic!” he shouted over his shoulder, bending to appraise me.

  I shook my head and whispered, “I’m fine. Just take care of her.”

  And then I shut down.

  “Thank you, officer. I’ve got her.” Blake was out of breath, his voice laced with worry as he squatted to my eye level. “You okay, Angel? Anything hurt?” He grabbed at my hands, my arms, my face, looking for signs of injury.

  I looked up through soaked, swollen eyes and shook my head, unable to speak.

  The police officer interrupted Blake’s assessment. “We’re going to need your statement, miss.”

  Blake laced his fingers with mine, showing me his support. I nodded. “Anything that’ll help.”

  A few minutes later, I finished telling them what I could remember and the police officer thanked me, but it still didn’t feel like enough. I sank into myself once again, falling into the black pit that surrounded me.

  “Hold on to me, baby.” Blake reached beneath my knees and behind my back, scooping me up effortlessly. I clutched fistfuls of his jacket and buried my face in his chest, sobs wracking through me. “You’re safe. I’ve got you now.” Blake soothed me before turning his attention to the police officers. “Thank you, gentlemen. Are they taking her to St. Luke’s?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m taking her to the hospital to be with her friend. You can contact me if you hear anything from her.” He gave the officer his number before solidifying his hold on me and walking away.

  Blake carried me the couple blocks to the hospital. I was grateful for his strength since I didn’t trust my legs to support me. He set me down in the front vestibule. “You gonna be okay?”

  “I couldn’t stop it. Why didn’t I stop it?” I covered my face with my hands and began to sob again.

  “Hey, don’t do that to yourself.” Blake lifted my chin with his finger. “There was n
o way you could’ve stopped it. You can’t control things like that. You just have to be strong for her now. Can you do that?”

  I took in a deep, trembling breath and sniffled. “Yes.”

  “That’s my girl. Wait here.” I watched Blake’s broad back head to the service desk. He spoke to a gray-haired woman. As she searched her computer, he rested his forearm on the counter, his body twisted to watch me.

  Blake nodded as she gave him the information we needed, and then he came over to take my hand. He guided me to the elevator, and my stomach sank with dread at what I would find once we got to her floor. Blake curled his arm around my middle, pulled me close, and pressed a kiss to my hair.

  I spent the ride twisting my fingers until they lost circulation. When the doors glided open, I stood immobilized, my legs feeling as though they were replaced with concrete stumps.

  Blake put his free arm out to hold the doors. “You can do this.”

  “I’m so scared. What if she didn’t . . . What if she’s . . .” Dead. I couldn’t force myself to say it aloud.

  Blake simply applied pressure to my back and guided me onto the floor. We walked over to a reception desk, and he gave another gray-haired woman Sandra’s name.

  “They have her in surgery already. You can sit in the waiting area and a doctor will come and see you as soon as they’re finished,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Sitting. Standing. Pacing. Crying.

  Mad. Sad. Scared. Restless. Numb.

  I was numb.

  By the time the young-looking doctor walked through the door, removing his mask, I’d become desensitized. My limbs prickled back to life with each step he took; my breathing hanging low in my chest.

  Sandra’s parents had arrived shortly after us. They leaped to their feet and scurried to meet the doctor halfway. Her mom’s red-rimmed eyes were too much to bear. There was no consoling her, and I was in no shape to try. What a way to meet for the first time.