Facade

I remember standing there in awe because this little guy wanted to be me. No one ever envied me for anything. Girls wanted me, Dad liked to hit me, Angel protected me, but here was this little kid who wanted to be me. It was fucking incredible.

“Let’s pretend to be someone else. Pretend we don’t have anything to worry about except right now.” And I need that. I didn’t think I needed anything anymore, but standing here, I realize I do.

“Okay.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” I say against her ear. She shivers and it transfers to me. Damn this girl affects me.

We go upstairs to our room. “I need to take a shower,” she tells me.

Yeah. That sounds good to me too. “Want some company?” I ask, and damned if she doesn’t blush.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea if we want to get out of here.”

There’s something else to her voice that tells me not to push it. It has nothing to do with being out of here on time because we don’t have a specific time to go anywhere. She has her boundaries, just like I do, only mine aren’t physical.

I nod, without breaking eye contact so she knows I’m hearing her. I learned that growing up. Even if I don’t understand something or I know it’s a lie, or on those rare occasions I get it and it’s real, look someone in the eye when it’s important. When Mom was hurt, she could never do that. That’s how I knew it was a lie, even if the bruises couldn’t be seen.

While she takes a shower, I unwrap my hand. It’s healed enough that I don’t need to keep the bandage on anymore. Even though my eye isn’t as purple as it was, I still have the strike against me. Having my hand bandaged feels like another one. It’s one of those signs that something’s wrong that people notice but don’t fucking act on.

I don’t want to look like that when I’m with her.

I shower after she does. I come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. Delaney’s standing by the mirror, looking into the glass, but I know she’s really waiting on me. It’s in the way she stands and the way she turns to look my way and fuck if I don’t get hard seeing her look at me all i

“What?” I ask her.

“That was ridiculous, right? We had sex last night and we both needed to shower. I could have…”

“Don’t.” I step toward her and she looks up at me. This girl does something to me. Makes my gut twist and makes me feel on edge. I’m not stupid enough not to understand it. Not to get that I’m falling for her when I’ve never fallen for anyone else in my life, but I know I have nothing to give her either. Not permanently.

“Don’t what?” she asks.

“Don’t ever feel like you have to do something because I want it, okay? If I’m pushing you, tell me to fuck off and don’t ever feel bad about that. I’ll respect the hell out of you for it.”

I know it’s Dad’s fault and I will always hate the bastard for what he did to Mom, but there’s a part of me who’s angry at Mom too. I don’t get why she couldn’t tell him no. Why she couldn’t sneak away with me and Angel the same way my sister had the guts to leave. Even when I flirt or make my intentions obvious, I never want a girl to think I’m pushing myself on her, the way Dad did with Mom.

“I know you would never try to force me into doing something I don’t want to. It just feels…”

“Like it doesn’t matter.” I trace the swells of her breasts with my fingers. Palm their heavy weight, covered by cool satin. “We have time, if you want to. If not… well, hopefully you’ll let me have a taste again. Will you, Little Ghost?” I pinch her nipples and she cries out. “Will you let me?”

“Yes…”

Jesus, she’s hot. I kiss her forehead, then her lips. “If you want to leave this hotel room, you really need to get dressed right now.”

Then she fucking giggles and it’s so crazy. I’ve never been one to go for girls who giggle, but it’s different with her. And even though she’s happy, I know she still has clouds in her life. She doesn’t smile as much as she should and damned if it doesn’t feel good to give her that. I’m suddenly trying to think of ways to do it again, which is just another of those strange things I have to file away in my brain.

“So sweet… so i

We make it out of the hotel a few minutes later. We’re in one of those little towns that look perfect like the one I grew up in. I wonder what secrets it hides, because they all have them.

It’s cold, so we’re both bundled up. There’s a sign on a pole outside a Winter Celebration, and even though I’ve never been to something like that in my life, and I’m honestly not real excited about the idea right now, I think it’s something she would like.

“What about this?” I ask. Happiness eclipses any of the remaining shadows in her eyes and I know I asked the right question.

“Really?” she asks, and she looks so fucking happy that it almost makes me feel happy too. Or maybe it does and it’s too hard for me to admit it, but I think I’d do just about anything to hold on to that feeling.

Chapter Eighteen

~Delaney~

He’s smiling and I wonder if he notices. It sends this electric sort of feeling through me. Like I’ve been shot through the heart with a lightning bolt, but it doesn’t hurt. It shocks me to life and makes me feel more alive than I ever have.

This feeling can’t be wrong. What I’m doing can’t be wrong if it makes him smile so pure. If it makes me feel like this. But I know that’s not completely true. I need to tell him. The words are there in my mouth and on my tongue all the time, but I can’t make myself push them out because I’m scared of losing him and scared of hurting him when all I want is for him to be okay. It might have begun as a hope of absolution for my family, but that’s not what it’s about anymore. It’s about the man standing in front of me and the warmth that spreads through me when I’m with him and the jolts he shocks into my heart.

“If you don’t mind being cheesy with me, I think the festival sounds fun.”

“I’ve never done cheesy before. Might as well give it a try.”

We walk to the car and this time I drive. It’s not hard to find because half the streets are closed down, directing all the traffic in the same direction. Luckily we find a parking spot quickly and head to the festival. It’s only midmorning, but it’s already busy. The air is crisp, but everyone’s walking around like us, bundled up, though they have steaming cups in their hands.

“It smells like apples,” I tell him. “I love the smell of apples. There’s something comforting about it.” I shiver, but then feel a sudden burst of warmth when Adrian puts an arm around me.

“I don’t want you to get too cold on me. I have plans for you later on today… though it might be fun to warm you up.”

Another laugh tumbles from my mouth. He chuckles, too, and I nuzzle closer to him as we walk. I love this side of him. That’s almost so carefree, even though I know it’s another mask for the pain inside. It feels real, though. I want it to be real.

“Do you have a childhood memory with apples?” he asks. It takes me a minute to remember that I’d just mentioned them.

“No…” A ghost of a memory floats into my head. “You know what? I never even thought about it, but I do.” It all starts to form in my brain and I can’t help but let it out. “I was about thirteen. My dad had been away working for over a week. Or we thought he was working. He traveled a lot and I always missed him…”