Page 45 of Something So Strong

Holding my breath, I spin so my back is against the wall and watch as Jesse kneels by Romeo’s feet.

Untying his shoelaces, Jesse slips his shoes off before standing again and wrestling with his heavy coat until it’s off and Romeo is lying face down on the bed. Sliding his cell phone from his back pocket, he puts it on the nightstand and rolls his friend back over.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he grins up at me as he slides Romeo’s pants down his legs.

“You shouldn’t either, cause the only way you’ll ever top me is if I’m passed out.”

The smile melts off Jesse’s face, and I bang my head back against the wall.

There’s never a ‘right’ time for a rape joke, especially one that’s so deeply rooted in my own tragedy. But to throw out the truth so blatantly, and when the man I’m lusting after is undressing his friend… I’m clearly more fucked up than I’ve let myself believe.

There’s nothing sexual about what Jesse is doing. I should be finding it endearing how he looks after those close to him. Yet all I see are my own clothes being torn from my body. I can feel the dirt in my face and hear the hate-filled words coming from every direction.

I’m frozen, hands in fists by my side. My attention is divided between the door and Romeo because… What if he wakes up? What if he’s too drunk to realize it’s Jesse? He might just see long hair and his pants off and jump to drunken conclusions.

Jesse lifts Romeo’s feet and drags them to the end of the bed. Pillow under his head, he disappears into the bathroom and I feel like the room is collapsing around me. I can hear the tap running, but I still can’t tear my eyes away from the bed until Jesse has placed the glass of water on the nightstand and is in front of me again.

“Is everything okay?” he asks gently as his fingers brush the back of my hand.

“You’re a good friend, Jess.” My words tremble out as I look to the hallway.

Determined, Jesse flicks off the light and pulls me out of Romeo’s room. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I don’t think I’d ever trust myself around anyone if I got that drunk.”

“That’s what friends are for,” he says with a shrug, like it’s what everyone does.

“And Saxon?” I cross my arms in a way that looks dominant but is secretly self-soothing, and walk back to the elevator.

“He’s not the guy you think he is. He’s rescued me more times than I can count.”

With enough distance between me and Romeo’s room, I smirk and revert to what I know best because I’m a deplorable piece of shit. “I’m not surprised. A sweet thing like you being passed out could be dangerous.”

Confusion is written all over Jesse’s face, but I don’t acknowledge it. Talking about my problems is not something I do. Ignoring them. Pushing them as deep down as they can go and brushing aside the people who see my cracks—that’s what I do.

But now that thought makes me sick.

I don’t want to force Jesse away, but he can’t know what’s wrong with me, either.

With an irked huff, Jesse presses for the elevator because I’ve been standing here in front of it with my arms crossed, too consumed with making myself seem tough to even realize nothing is happening.

In the dented and tarnished elevator door, I watch his reflection as he swipes his fingers back through his hair several times before tying it up. I love it like that. Off his face so I can see his jaw and neck.

I might have been able to tell him if I wasn’t such a coward caught up in his past.

Maybe I’d have gotten a compliment in return if I wasn’t so fucking terrified of dragging him into my misery.

Everything had gone so well.

He was in the palm of my hand, but I had to let myself feel for him.

Worry about him.

Fall for him.

Every brick in my wall is rubble at my feet and I’m bare, exposed, and completely defenseless, bar the whip of my tongue. And when I’ve lost my wits, my body only knows one function because my mind is too busy regressing to be alert. To watch everything. To protect.

Inside the elevator, the air is stifling, and even though I’m sure it’s imagined, it seems Jesse can feel it too.

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