Page 4 of The Bookworm

It's hard not to look at her body. I've spent long enough imagining what it would be like to be with her, and now that she's in front of me, all those fantasies are more vivid. But what catches my attention most are the scars and bruises all over her.

I know it's the work of her father. It makes me angry once again, and I grip the washcloth tight enough in my hands that most of the water wrings out of it.

“It's not as bad as it seems,” Merrit says when she realizes I'm staring at the scars. “Most of them are pretty old. It's actually been a little while since he's done anything to me. He only hit me today because he caught me sneaking out to watch the game.”

“None of this is okay, Merrit,” I say, looking at her with sorrow. Seeing how she makes excuses for the man who is supposed to take care of her and make sure she's protected breaks my heart. “How long has this been going on?”

“Ten years, ever since my mom died. It never used to be like this. When Mom was still around, he was happy and loving, then after...” Her voice cracks. Her blue eyes are tinged with pink, and I can see the waterworks ready to spill over. I reach my hand to her shoulder and squeeze it, letting her know I'm here for her. “He changed when she died. He blamed me for it, and ever since, he's been taking it out on me.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

“I used to take ballet lessons just like she did when she was my age. She's the one who signed me up for them anyway. I guess in a way she was trying to live vicariously through me.” Merrit laughs and looks at me with a smile painted on her face as she remembers her mother. It warms my heart enough to loosen my grip on the washcloth and listen carefully. “Then one day, there was a blizzard, and it came out of nowhere. I would have skipped that day if we'd known before dance lessons. She was driving to pick me up, and her car skidded off the road. I waited hours outside the classroom, and she never showed up. I kept calling and calling, then eventually, someone at the hospital answered. They're the ones who told me she passed away.”

Her smile fades, and she shrugs meekly while scrubbing some of the dirt out of her palms. We sit in silence for a few moments as I rub the washcloth on her back and drip water over it to make sure she's fully covered in its warmth.

“Dad didn't handle her death very well,” she continues when she’s ready. “Ever since, he's been drinking nonstop. I can't even remember a day in recent years when he hasn't been completely wasted. Over the past ten years, I've watched him turn into this vicious monster.”

“I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with that,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say.

“The worst part about it is the fact that I feel sorry for him,” she says, shaking her head with a mirthless laugh. “I know what he went through was hard. In a way, I understand what made him the way he is.”

“That's not true.” I shake my head vehemently and look at her with intensity in my eyes. “Nothing made him do what he does. Your mom's death didn't push him to do this. He chose to take this route, and every time he lays a hand on you, it's his choice. You can't blame anyone but him.”

Merrit sees the anger in my eyes, and she nods her head. She offers me a wavering smile as a tear slips from her pale blue eyes. She doesn't have anyone at school to talk to about this. This is a burden she's been carrying all by herself for a long time, and finally being able to confess the truth to someone must be a relief.

I have to leave her alone for a moment to process everything myself. I busy myself and the bedroom, grabbing a fresh, warm towel and some sweatpants for her to wear. How can I not have noticed what was going on? It isn’t like I wasn't paying attention to her.

Sure, she and I operated in different circles. I had all of my football friends and the kids from upper-class families who invited me to all of their parties. But even with all of that, Merrit was in my eyes. Ever since I first laid eyes on her in middle school, I had a thing for her. If I was really paying attention to her to protect her, how could I have let this slip through the cracks?

By the time I grab the clothes for her, Merrit is slowly standing from the tub, carefully gripping the side to make sure she doesn't wobble over and fall. I rush to her side and help her up, wrapping a plush towel around her petite body and helping her tie it.

“Thank you so much for everything,” she says again, looking up at me appreciatively.

“Don't thank me. I just did what was right.” I don't tell her I've wanted this for a long time and that her being here is making a dream of mine come true.

I hand her some dry clothes and turn around while I let her change into them. I want nothing more than to watch her drop the towel to the ground and wear one of my T-shirts with nothing underneath, but she's been through enough. I don't want her to feel uncomfortable.

I turn back around when she's all done and smile to myself, seeing just how big my T-shirt is on her. Merrit laughs too, which is music to my ears.

“I guess we're not the same size after all,” she jokes, holding her arms out for me to see just how big it is.

“If you want, we can swing by your old place tomorrow and grab some clothes and other belongings,” I offer, tossing the blanket on the bed aside before she approaches so she can climb right in.

“I don't really have much there. The only thing I would really want would be some of my books,” she says, and I laugh. Almost every time I see her, she has her nose stuck in a book. It's a trait I've always admired. She gets lost in the stories she reads in a way I don't fully understand. But it's something she's passionate about, just like I am with football. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I just think it’s cute how much you love to read,” I say, climbing into bed beside her. I'm only in a pair of boxer briefs, and it's hard to hide how I'm feeling right now. Just being close to her is enough to force my blood from my brain to my groin.

What's worse is that I've noticed Merrit noticing it. On top of that, I see how her eyes dilate when she looks at my cock and how she bites her lips. It's not lost on me that she wants me, maybe as much as I want her.

When we're both in bed, I slide toward the middle and wrap an arm around her. Her body stiffens from the shock, but a moment later, she relaxes and holds my arm between her hands, slowly tracing a finger along my forearm. She sinks into me, and I savor the feeling of her small, tight body beside me.

My cock hardens even more, and there's no doubt in my mind she feels it. Merrit shifts to grind her ass against me, and it takes every ounce of restraint in my body to keep from pinning her down and giving her what we both want.

Believe me, I want nothing more than to rip the sweatpants off her and taste her, but I know she’s not in a good place right now. After everything she’s been through today—and in the past ten years, apparently—I don’t want to take advantage.

But I don’t know if I’ll have the same restraint tomorrow if she keeps this up.

FOUR

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