Page 23 of Make Me, Break Me

I didn’t see his hands, and I didn’t dare ask where they were as I slipped out of their door and shut it quietly behind me, though I doubted my exit went entirely unnoticed.

Certainly not by Dex, who messaged me less than an hour later, begging me to come back.

And I nearly—so freaking close—had.

But I didn't. I held to my resolve and stayed clear of his toxic little household and my toxic more-than-a-fuck-buddy who was becoming way too close for comfort.

Or maybe just too close all over, because those orgasms felt so damn fine. My legs trembled all the way back across campus.

And now I knew what it was like to be the one doing the walk of shame. Not that it was the walk that bothered me so much, but who was watching. And during daylight hours, that seemed to be…everyone.

Now, taking Dex back to his dorm in my tiny car that seemed even smaller with him inside it, I had no idea what to say. Six weeks into our new found friendship and I was still at a loss for words beside him unless we were in the bedroom or the sun had set.

Because preferences.

“You know you don’t have to run off on me. We could have lunch,” Dex suggested, sliding his good arm across my shoulders as I drove.

I twitched. “Uh, distraction, much. You.” I shot him a glance and looked back at the road. “And I have a ton of work to catch up on because I’ve been playing nurses and doctors with someone.”

“Now there’s a fantasy I could get into. We could buy outfits.”

I groaned. “Of course that’s where you go with it. I don’t do skirts, Dex.”

He snorted. “Always with the assumptions. What ifIwanted to wear the nurse's outfit, huh? I’ve got a good chest, pecs and all.” He emphasized his barrel chest, pushing it out and wiggling suggestively in my passenger seat.

I burst into giggles. “You’re madness.”

He put on a puppy face, fluttering his lashes for me. “You know it.”

“And we’re here.” Thankfully, because I couldn't do any more of this easy chat stuff. My heart was pounding in my chest and I needed a breather. Which couldn’t happen with Dex in the car, him being the sole reason for my inability to gain a lung full of fresh air. “Is this how you felt when you had cracked ribs?” I pressed a hand to my side and squeezed.

Rather than evict him from my undersized car, the motion only brought him closer. “Zin? What happened?” His arms folded around me in an unbreakable circle.

I shook my head, but he refused to back off, insisting on turning my face toward him. “Stop, please,” I whispered, but he was right there, and too close.

Way too close.

“Talk to me,” he insisted. “Are you having a panic attack? What do you need?”

“Air. I need air?—”

“Sweetness,” he murmured, releasing my seatbelt and yanking up my parking brake in one go—the pros of two working hands, look he could use them both at once to my supposed benefit again for me—and cupped my face, stealing more of my air.Again.” Talk to me?”

I shoved at his chest with both hands, and some of the breath burst out of him. “It’s you,” I yelled, needing the space. “Just backoff, Dex!” I ran my hands through my hair, pushing loose strands off my face, the ends intent on itching everything,everywhere.

Hurt rippled over his face. “Okay,” he said slowly, leaning back in the passenger seat, his hands raised. “I’m back here. Wanna tell me what that was?” He spoke low and slow, like I was some dangerous animal he wasn’t sure he should be worried about or not.

Maybe he should avoid me. Maybe that had been the problem all along.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered. “All the, the domestication. Sitting with your friends. Playing happy families. It’s not like I have one.”

“I know,” Zin,” he said quietly.

The single topic we both shied away from, because we matched in that respect. I didn’t have a family to claim me, period, hence the poor girl in a rich boy world problem. His remaining family passed away in his first year before we bonded enough that he could share his grief with me. My throat stillclosed on the thought of him going through that without anyone at all. Because I didn’t know how to deal with it, never having anyone.

So I guessed that was a good reason that I found out months later, through a rumor on campus. And then…I still didn’t talk to him about it, because back then that’s not who we were. And my rules kept that relationship in place.

I shook my head, throwing off the broken memory. “It’s too much, Dex. This…Us. It’s killing me. Please.” One hot tear dropped onto my cheek but I was too lost in my head to care that he watched me cry.

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