Page 23 of Breaking You Open

No need to tempt myself if I can avoid it. I had a hard enough time keeping my hands off him during the night, and multiple nights? I don’t trust him not to initiate something I won’t be able to resist.

“Oh.” His gaze falls. “All right. As long as I can stay with you.”

I grunt in reply and turn away from him to escape the look of that eternally grateful smile. It’s not like I’m doing him that big of a favor, but with the way he looks at me, you’d have thought I hung the moon.

I get out my first-aid kit, and as I clean the cut on his cheek, he’s obviously trying to hide his discomfort. When I’ve put on a Band-Aid, however, his grateful smile returns.

“Thank you, Louis,” he whispers.

Again, I give a wordless grunt in reply. After I’ve gotten the couch ready for him with bedsheets and a spare blanket, I turn to the bathroom to brush my teeth. All in all, the situation feels odd and unfamiliar. Except for yesterday, I can’t remember the last time I had a guest. I usually throw out the guys I bring home to fuck before they have a chance to ask to stay over.

“Louis,” Sparrow calls out.

“What?” Without turning to face him, I stop in the doorway to the bedroom.

“Could I have uh … a hug?”

When I turn around, he’s got his arms around himself as if he’s cold. Seems like my huge shirt isn’t keeping him warm enough. Doubt a hug will help much, but since he’s been through a lot tonight, I guess I’ll humor him.

“Fine. Come here, then.”

His feet pad over the floor, and face level with my chest, he leans into me. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I sling mine around his shoulders, holding his thin body. He sinks into me with a trembling sigh as the tension bleeds out of him.

“Thank you.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know what to say, period.

“I just…I’m not good with sleeping alone,” he mumbles.

“You’re not alone; I’m right here, on the other side of this wall.”

“Could you keep the door open, please?”

“Okay.” Before we part, I’m unable to keep myself from inhaling the scent of his hair. He smells of rain, cheap drugstore shampoo, and a sharp tinge of anxious sweat. In this moment, I wish I could do more for him. I wish I could clutch him tighter and tell him everything will be all right—that nothing can touch him here, that I’ll protect him.

But I can’t. The very thought makes something dark rise in my chest, squeezing my heart with all its might.

I lean away from him. He reluctantly lets go of me, and we say our good nights. It takes a long time before I fall asleep though. Doesn’t help that I can hear the sheets rustle in the living room. I think of him out there, alone and scared on the couch with the rain patting the window, his panicked eyes looking for threats from whatever corners they may come.

I remember another boy just like him, with the same huge blue eyes and the same skittish demeanor, and I turn around and put my earplugs in, squeezing my eyes shut tight.

Chapter 7

Sparrow

I’d like to sayI sleep well that night, but nothing can be further from the truth. I toss and turn, unable to find rest, a perpetual cold biting into my very bones at the thought of never sleeping next to Louis again.

Every time my eyes flick back open, the shadows grow deeper and deeper. The patio door is the only barrier between me and the potential danger outside, and I imagine a hulking shadow rising on the other side of the glass.

An attacker. Aaron. He’s here to come get me, he’s here to hurt me…

I pinch my eyes shut, trying to find a sliver of safety from Louis’s occasional snores. I could sneak into his room and crawl into bed with him, but the potential repercussions keep me from it. What if he gets angry? What if he regrets his decision to let me stay and throws me out? If so, I’dreallybe in trouble.

No. I have to endure this night alone, and sometime between four and five o’clock, I finally manage to fall into an unrestful sleep.

It feels like no time at all has passed when I jolt awake from the clink of glasses. Bleary-eyed, I squint at the kitchen, where Louis is making breakfast and coffee.

The sun hits his bare back, illuminating his many tattoos. His upper arm is covered by a howling wolf, and beside it, his shoulder blade is dotted by something that looks like claws. Or tears? Blood? It looks gruesome. Gruesome and cool.

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