Page 99 of American Beauty

This next one is going to sound a lot worse.

“The second—and final—incident involved kissing and touching.” I swallow hard, the shame burning my throat. “How much do you want to hear?”

“The fucker said he tasted you. I need that explained in as few words as possible.”

“He didn’t go down on me. He tasted me on his fingers… after touching me.”

“The thought of his hands on you––” His fists press into his eyes like he’s trying to scrub the images from his mind. “Did he make you come?”

I swallow hard, my pulse pounding. “Yes, one time.”

“Fuck.”

His head drops back. “You can’t imagine how much I hate hearing that.”

“I’m so sorry, Alex.”

His fingers flex against his thighs. “Did you make him come?”

No hesitation. “No.”

His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing. “You didn’t fuck him or suck his cock or give him a hand job? He kissed you and got you off once with his hand and that’s it?”

“Correct.”

Something in his face eases—just a fraction—but the torment is still there.

Reaching for his hands, I thread my fingers through his. “He was wrong. I was never falling in love with him, Alex. I love you. Only you.”

His chest rises with a deep breath, his grip tightening on mine. “I understand why he fell in love with you. You’re so damn easy to love.”

His gaze flickers to mine, heavy with exhaustion, pain, and something else—something that looks an awful lot like hope, no matter how fragile.

“Where do we go from here?” His voice is raw, edged with uncertainty.

“I don’t know.” Fear wraps around my throat like a python that refuses to let go. “What do you want?”

A quiet, bitter laugh escapes him, and he shakes his head. “I want to get in a fucking time machine and go back to six months ago so I can change everything that happened.”

If only––

He reaches out and brushes his thumb along my cheek. My eyes flutter shut as I lean into his palm, letting him cup my face, savoring his touch.

“I’m lost without you.” His voice breaks, rough with emotion. “I love you. I never stopped. Not for a single second.”

A tear slips down my cheek. “I love you too. Every second, every breath, it has always been you.”

“We have a lot to figure out.”

I nod, because he’s right. We have battles ahead of us. “I know.”

There are still so many questions, and so many wounds to be healed.

I cup his face, my thumbs tracing over the rough stubble along his jaw. Even with the cuts, bruises, and dried blood, he’s still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I lean in, pressing the lightest kiss to the cut on his face, then another along his cheekbone. A silent apology. A quiet promise.

When my lips brush his swollen mouth, he exhales and pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes stormy and conflicted. “There’s a lot going on in my head. It’s… overwhelming.”

I nod, understanding. “You need to scream… but not with your voice?”

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