Page 70 of Fielder's Choice

The hand still on my hip travels north, stroking up and down my side in a gentle caress. When his hand rests over my ribcage, he strokes his thumb over me, but this time on the outside of my breast.

I like the feeling, and that absolutely terrifies me.

“Lane,” I say, breaking our kiss.

“I’m sorry, Olive. I got a little carried away. I’m so sorry that made you uncomfortable.” He rests his hand on my cheek, sorrow in his eyes.

“No, no,I’msorry. You should be able to express your feelings in whatever way you need, and you need a person who can accept that.” Tears prick the corners of my eyes before falling down my cheeks. “I’m not that person. I’m sorry, Lane.”

Now full-on sobbing, I stand and rush away from him, running back to the balcony. I left my jacket inside, so the cold is bitter against my skin, but I don’t care.

I can’t give Lane what he needs. What he deserves. I’m doing better than before, but I’m still not well yet. Maybe I won’t ever be.

I sit against the wall, legs bent in front of me with my arms wrapped around them while tears stream down my face. How did we go from such an incredible date to me now hysterically crying on his balcony?

Why can’t I just benormal?

The balcony door opens now, and Lane steps out, holding a blanket. Without a word, he walks over to me and wraps it around my shoulders before sitting on the ground next to me.

“Olive,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

“I told you I’m fucked up, Lane. You don’t know everything I’ve been through.”

He turns my face to him, pressing our foreheads together. “So tell me. I can see how this hurts you, so let me help you. Let me be there for you.”

“I don’t think you want to know the whole story,” I whisper, refusing to make eye contact.

“Maybe not,” he breathes. “But I care about you, Olive, and if opening up is what you need to let me help you, then so be it.”

Lane takes his thumb and wipes the tears from under my eyes, and that gentle and tender motion reminds me that I can trust him. That we can’t move forward if I’m still holding back.

“Okay,” I say softly. “Might want to grab some tissues, though. My story is… a lot.”

twenty-five

Olive

“Idon’tevenknowwhere to start,” I say softly, hugging the blanket tighter to my body.

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Lane rubs his hand up and down my back to comfort me, and his touch is grounding. “You said this started when you were seventeen?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, staring blankly at the skyline in front of me. Anything to avoid his eyes right now. “I had a group of friends when I was seventeen. Well, I thought they were my friends. It was a group of six of us—me, three other girls, and two guys. Jake was one of them. He and I were getting really close, spending a lot of time together. We weren’t dating, but I thought that’s where we were heading.”

I take a deep breath now, trying to calm my trembling body.

“Take your time, baby.” Lane places a soft kiss on my temple. “I’m not rushing you.”

“Thank you,” I reply, leaning into him. “Jake and I weren’t dating, but he seemed interested in me. He’d kiss me whenever he could. He always told me that I’m so pretty and that he’s so happy to know me. He made me feel cherished, and as a teenagegirl, that’s all I wanted. I wanted to be loved and desired, and I thought I had that.

“Well, one night, his parents were out of town, and the six of us were hanging out in his living room, watching some movie I can’t remember the name of. Jake spent the entire movie with his arm wrapped around me. When it was over, our friends went home, leaving us alone. He kissed me and then asked if he could tell me something.

“I thought this was going to be the moment he actually asked me out, but I was so far off base. He told me he wanted to have sex with me. He knew I was a virgin and loved the idea of being the one to take my virginity. When I told him no, that I wasn’t ready, he… changed.”

Tears prick my eyes again as I recount the night that changed my life forever. My body is shaking harder now, and Lane holds me tighter.

“It’s okay, Liv.” He strokes his thumb over my cheek. “Take a deep breath and relax for a moment.”

I do as he suggests, taking a deep, shuddering breath before letting it out. I repeat that several times before I’m composed enough to speak again.

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