Page 92 of Hidden Echoes

“You threw up on my clothes, and I was too tired to change,” I say, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “I figured maybe I could sleep like that.”

“Oh.”

Silence settles between us. I pick at the fabric of the blanket, unsure how to phrase what’s on my mind. My voice comes out softer than I intend.

“Can I ask you something?”

Zane shifts, adjusting his face mask. “You can ask me anything, Mia.”

I swallow. “Would having sex with me have been that bad?”

The playfulness drains from his expression. I push forward before I lose my nerve.

“I mean, I know I told you about my past. And… sometimes I wonder if that’s a problem for you. Or if you just don’t want me that way.”

Zane’s eyes darken. “Mia.”

The way he says my name makes my stomach twist.

“Trust me. Wanting you is not the problem.”

I blink. “No?”

His jaw flexes. “No. I just… I could never do it sober.” His voice is quiet, almost hesitant. “But what scared me most was thinking I had. Because I don’t want to be drunk when it happens with you.”

My chest tightens.

“We don’t have to do this,” I say. “I don’t really care about sex. I tried it because I thought it might please you. And I wanted to please you. But I don’t think it works for me.”

Zane studies me, his expression softening. Then, he reaches out, fingertips grazing my cheek.

“When you kissed me, did it feel good?”

His voice is husky, sending ripples down my spine. My skin tingles, my stomach doing weird, fluttery things.

“Y-Yeah,” I mumble.

His lips twitch. “Then don’t give up yet. Maybe you’ll feel good with the right person.”

I hesitate. “But you said you can’t.”

“I can’t right now.” His voice drops lower. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try. With you.”

I swallow. “Why?”

He smirks. “Because you’re crazy. I like crazy girls.”

I slap his arm. “Idiot.”

He chuckles, then leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

His voice is softer when he speaks next. “Because you understand me, Mia. And because when I’m with you… I don’t feel alone.”

His words echo mine from the day we kissed.

Then, out of nowhere, he asks—“Has anyone ever made you cum?”

My cheeks burn. “No,” I mutter, looking down.

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