When We Met

“But why—why would you do that for me? I don’t remember any of—” She cut off suddenly, her face blank for a split second. “And why don’t I ever remember it? I don’t get that drunk, Kier!”

“You’re right, you don’t get that drunk. You’re definitely drunk, but not to the point where you wouldn’t remember anything from the night before. The first couple times I thought you were doing it just to be . . . I don’t know, I thought you just wanted someone to take care of you. So I did. But then I realized you really had no clue. After the last three months of it, all I’ve been able to come up with is I think you block out these nights in your mind. Like there’s already something bad about them, so the rest of it you just decide to forget as well.”

Her face went blank, and she didn’t respond for a long time, but I knew I was right. “Dean . . . I drink to forget Dean.” She sighed raggedly. “He was—”

“I know who he was to you,” I said, clenching my jaw and cutting her off.

“You do?” she asked, shock coating her words.

Of course I did. Every time I saw him on campus, I wanted to punch the bastard. “There was a party a few weeks into the school year, and it was the second night you stumbled into my room. After I got you in bed, you started sobbing, saying you were disgusted with yourself. You’d slept with some guy and said, ‘It didn’t work—my heart still hurts,’ and told me all about Dean. When the next two weeks went by with similar results, I started buying you the bread. Partly because it would absorb some of the alcohol you were drinking, and also because the first three weeks before you fell asleep you kept complaining because you didn’t understand why the world was suddenly ba

“That’s really . . . embarrassing. Oh my God,” she groaned. “And after all that, how could you sit there and tell me I’m not acting like a slut?”

I glared at her and resisted the urge to shake her. “Did you not hear me? I know you don’t like who you are when you’re like that. You tell me you disgust yourself. I see you when you’re sober, Indy, and I know you’re not that girl. You’re trying to forget someone, and you’re wasted whenever you do something.”

“Like that makes it okay?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “But you—the way you are, the way you honestly block all of this from your mind, I think that proves you’re not a slut. You said you feel like you’re drowning, and to be honest, that’s kind of a perfect word.”

“Did you fix my car, yes or no?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly, and she laughed without humor.

“Then why did you tell me it wasn’t you? Why did Misha say it was her?”

I looked away for a second before saying, “Misha and Darryn are the only ones who have figured out what I’ve been doing every week. I don’t talk to them about it, but they’ve figured it out. And I needed help getting into your car to fix it the other morning. Misha knows you weren’t ready to know I was helping you. She was just protecting you.”

Even in the dark room I could see when her jaw started trembling and tears filled her eyes. “So all of this, this whole feeling safe with you, has just been an illusion? A product of not remembering certain nights, but for some reason, remembering to come to your room?”

“If that’s how you want to see it.”

“How else would I see it?” she nearly yelled.

“Sober, you feel safe near me, drawn to me. Drunk, you feel the same way. You came to me the first time, second time, third, and so on. Nights you don’t remember at all. But you still came to me. You knew I was safe, and that’s all I needed to know to keep taking care of you.”

“God!” she cried. “Why would you keep doing that week after week?”

“Because someone had to let you know.”

Her eyebrows pinched together in confusion as a line of tears fell down one of her cheeks. “Know what?”

“That you mean a lot more than you think you do. You don’t seem to think very highly of yourself—and I don’t know why—but you’re wrong. Whatever it is, you’re wrong . . . and Dean was an idiot to let you go.”

A soft cry burst from her chest, and when I started moving toward her, her voice stopped me. “Don’t! Please don’t.”

I sat back and watched helplessly as she tried to pull herself together underneath all those blankets.

“I want that to be true . . . but it’s just not,” she whispered. She didn’t say it like she was searching for more compliments. Every word had so much truth and pain behind it, the admission had me rubbing at my chest as I shook my head in confusion.

“Indy . . .”

“Thank you for taking care of me, and trying to protect me from myself, but I told you, I’m a mess. My life? It’s . . . God, Kier, it’s beyond complicated, and so many people have already given up on me—it’s not long before you will, too.”

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because there’s no reason for you not to. The people who were supposed to be there for me through anything gave up on me. Why wouldn’t you?”

My breathing deepened as frustration pumped through me, and I had to wait until I had it under control before I responded to her. “Well, you’re not giving me much of a chance to prove myself, are you? You’ve already determined that you’ll disappoint me. That’s a new one.” My lips quirked up on one side in a sarcastic smirk. “So this time it really is ‘it’s not you, it’s me’? And we’re not even dating.”

“Kier . . . ,” she protested. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right, Indy. I don’t.” I began shrugging off all the blankets, and her eyes widened. “No matter what you think about yourself, I see differently. See, I don’t talk to people unless I want to give them my time. And, God, Indy, I want to give you my time. But I see people, and I sure as hell see you. I may not know what’s hurting you, I may not know why you’re destroying yourself, but I still fucking see you. I see that you need someone to save you from yourself.” When I had all the blankets off me, I carefully stood, never taking my eyes off her pained expression. “And I’ll still be that guy. I’m still that safe place, and I’ll still be there ready to take care of you if you find you can’t handle whatever’s going on and you start trying to destroy yourself again. But I won’t listen to you basically tell me you’re not worth being saved. Because that? I don’t believe that for a goddamn second.”

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” she said as I turned to leave, and I looked back at her.

“No, I do. If I’m capable, I will save you every time, Indy. Believe that, if nothing else. I don’t need or expect anything in return. I’m doing this because it’s what you deserve and what I want to do for you.”

“I want you! You consume me in a way I’ve never experienced even though up until ten minutes ago it didn’t make sense! I want the feeling you give me to never end, but there’s no way—”

I dropped to my knees in front of her and cupped her cheeks in my hands and brought my mouth down onto hers. “Don’t finish that,” I growled against her lips before kissing her again.

Her mouth moved easily against mine, and when I traced my tongue against her lips, they parted on a soft inhale, allowing me access to tease her tongue with my own.

“I need to be able to touch you,” she pled before deepening the kiss, and I released her cheeks to begin quickly, and awkwardly, pulling down the blankets I’d wrapped around her.

Once her arms were free, I laid her back on the pillows and hovered over her body for a few seconds before relaxing on top of her. An a