Page 79 of Forever We Fall

“You can’t give me your time?” His brows lift.

“I can.” My fingers clench at my sides.

“Your words? Your presence?” he continues. “You give me what I need, Arlo.”

Tears well in my eyes, and my throat grows thick. I bite the inside of my cheek. My head shakes. “I can’t fuck you or let you fuck me.”

The image of that floor, pitted and covered in my blood and semen, invades me. It whittles holes into my brain, filtering out all the good that stands in front of me, just within reach.

It was so much worse when I knew how kind and good a touch could be. It was so much worse when I knew what love was. In that house of horrors, I had so much more to lose after knowing love. After knowing Hota.

It was too much. All too much.

My body goes cold, and my knees shake like fucking maracas.

Hota steps forward. He doesn’t touch me, which is good. If he did, I might really freak.

I’m broken in a way that may never be fixed. “It doesn’t mean I don’t want to.” My voice is raw and bleak.

“Arlo, there’s still so much you can do. It’s enough. You are enough.”

I hope he’s right.

Our first year at Willoughby Ridge is coming to a close. We’re both sixteen now, and our hormones are raging. Well, his have been for a while, and mine seem keen to catch up.

I hear catcalls in the hallway before the knock comes on Hota’s door. They were given by a total of two other people living in our hallway this summer. Most of our peers vacation in the South of France or party in Ibiza with their less-than-attentive parents.

Our parents…mine are gone, and Hota’s dad is nonexistent these days. For a while, they would speak on the phone once every couple of weeks. Which is why we both got to stay here for extra classes over the summer. Well, I was staying regardless. Nowhere else to go. So really, Hota’s sperm donor decided to foot the bill for him to stay. A win-win for the two of them. He didn’t want to leave and his dad, the bastard, didn’t want to deal with him. Why, I can’t possibly fathom. Hota is magic in human form.

We know exactly who stands on the other side of the door.

Hota’s mischievous gaze flashes to me, and he pushes from the desk, where he’d been revamping his customer list for this impending school year. Taking off those who’d finished school and headed to university. Adding the list of fresh meat, of which there are only four.

This place is nothing if not consistent.

He opens the door.

“Well, hello there,” Miss Booth purrs. “I have some papers you need to sign.”

We all know it’s bullshit.

She never comes into the dorms. If you had business with the main office, you went to it. It didn’t come to you. But she sure loved coming for Hota. Or trying to, at least.

Over the past several weeks, the headmaster’s secretary has made quite a nuisance of herself. Just happening to be in the hallway between the few classes we’re taking. Wandering through the gym in her tight-ass pants and tiny tops. Calling Hota to the office for help with her computer because the tech guy was on holiday.

Her gaze stays locked on Hota as she enters the room in an illegally short skirt for school propriety. The tips of her free hand toy with the seam. She fans herself with the papers in the other.

Hota closes and locks the door as is his habit. Miss Booth’s breath catches.

Move-in day is tomorrow. It’s been quiet on campus. I’m surprisingly ready for the noise and distraction the school year brings. I’ve been entirely too focused on the body prowling from the other side of the room.

Miss Booth turns and finds me sitting in what’s come to be my reading chair in Hota’s room. The corners of her mouth fall.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Judge,” she mumbles.

I close my book and lay it on Hota’s bed, staking a claim of sorts. With all the ease I can muster, I recline into the chair and prop my ankle on my knee. “You’re trying to fuck my best friend, Emily. You can call me Arlo.”

The gasp that comes from her lips fills the room. It’s as though I jumped out and screamed, “Boo!”

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