Page 51 of Hide From Me

I don’t know how to describe it, it's as if I know he’s the only thing that can scare all the bad things away. Maybe he can spook the lingering taste of vodka and licorice away too.

“I can still taste him.” I hate the way my voice cracks with the words. I don’t want to break–I don't want anyone to witness as the days pent up of fear and panic come spewing out in the form of tears and screams.

“I don’t know what to do, sunshine.” It’s so hard to read the furrow between his brows and the softness in his frown, but the storm brewing in his squinted gaze says it all.He’s lost.Just as much as I am, if not more.

Ironic since I’m the one in the fucked up position but at the same time I understand. This man has done everything to make me feel all the things I want to ignore and now that he’s faced with the reality he can't take all the pain away.

He doesn't know what to do.

“Kiss me, monster.” My voice comes out as a plea that I’m not ashamed to hide. I just need something—anything that’ll ease the disgusting bumps that crawl my skin. If it takes me telling him every direction he needs to take, then I will because he's the only one I'm willing to trust at this moment. His focus flicks over my features before landing on my lips, like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

“Scare it away.” I plead as my fingers flex around his wrist pulling his attention back to mine.

“You don’t need me to scare it away. You can do that all on your own.” Despite his words he leans closer, the words falling across my mouth. “Didn’t you know all bad things are terrified of the light?”

My heart pounds against my ribs and I can’t help but wonder if I’m making a mistake—if this’ll complicate things worse than what they are or if it’ll actuallyhelp me. With each second that ticks by I wait for that sliver of space to close but it only seems to grow as he lets out a long exhale that has my lashes fluttering.

“I really want to, baby. I want to make all the bad things disappear and I want to help but I don't think you know what you're asking of me.”

He’s right, I don’t. I’m not an idiot, and he’s made it very clear how he feels, but it doesn’t stop me. I can ask him for forgiveness later when my walls start stacking back high, and the barriers between us start to form again.

“Please?” I tilt my head towards his, using my grip as leverage to stand on the tips of my toes. He’s still too tall and the space only intensifies as he shifts back slightly letting his nose graze my forehead so I can no longer look at his face.

“You know I’d do anything for you.”

I swallow at the confession, but I don’t have time to dwell on it as his hand shifts to the back of my head tangling in the straight strands. I hiss, but it’s quickly swallowed by his mouth making my eyes close tight.

It’s not explorative like a first kiss should be. No. His lips move against mine so smooth and firm like he’s kissed me a thousand times before.

Parting my lips with his tongue he doesn’t waste a second to flick in and drag it over mine as if he really is trying to wipe the taste away. He’s fucking succeeding because my knees nearly buckle, and my taste buds erupt from the sweet saliva that mingles with mine. I figured he’d taste just as he smells but it’s minty instead like menthol.

His grip tightens in my hair tilting my head back enough his kiss turns more into the feeling of him fucking my mouth with his tongue—messy, desperate, rough. I moan and he growls in response, making my legs clench and my nails dig into his skin.

He pulls back enough to pant a quiet, “Tell me to stop.”

I crash my mouth back into his, not wanting the moment of my mind finally feeling at ease to stop. His hand drops to my hip pushing me back until I’m caged between his body and the wall. Thank god for his hand blocking the hard slam of my head against it.

“Baby please.” He begs through heavy breaths, breaking his mouth from mine to drag his lips against the curve of my jaw. My whole body is on fire, buzzing and burning as if it wasn’t just violated. It makes me feel almost wrong in a way because I don’t want him to stop. Yet, it seems like he already knows this because the plea doesn’t sound like it's for my sake but more so his. I can’t imagine the internal war he’s having–give into what I want or try to figure out what I need. I’d be lost if I were him too–I was lost the night he told me so little of his life story, but it held so much pain.

My fist clench in his shirt, desperate to pull him closer and keep that gap between us non-existent. I don’t want to lose the numbing he creates, but I’m also treading a thin line now. I’m feeling too much in such a little amount of time and now I need that to stop.

“Stay with me? Just for tonight.” I whisper before I can stop the thought, and his lips hesitate on my throat. “We don’t have to…” I trail off swallowing down the arousal coursing through my veins. “We don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone.”

He hums against my skin in contemplation slowly kissing down to my collarbone then back up my throat. It kills two birds with one stone if he does stay–I won’t have to think about a douchebag cop, and I’ll know as long as Moe is here he might keep the bodies that haunt my land from rising up for revenge. It’s so fucking selfish it makes me sick when he's here basically begging me to save his heart, but maybe its also a stepping stone. I forced myself to trust Jack, I continue to force myself to trust Laura, maybe I can naturally fall into that rhythm with Moe.

“Will you keep letting me kiss you?” His nose drags against my cheek until it’s brushing against mine and his eyes squint, but they don’t crinkle when he smiles.

“Maybe for tonight.” I shrug and fresh tears well in my eyes that has his softening. I yelp as I’m scooped into his arms, and he carries me as if I weigh nothing, which I know isn't true. Don’t get me wrong, I love all my curves, butI’m just not used to them not being pointed out or having someone act as if I’m light as a feather.

Stopping by the bathroom, Moe sets me on the counter and grabs my rag from the towel rack to dampen it under the still running water before cutting it off.

“I’ll take whatever you’ll give me, sunshine, and I’ll give whatever you need.” This time there’s a real smile spreading his features, exposing his gorgeous white teeth as he wipes the cloth to my cheek. I guess I did cry a little. Looking at the mirror by the sink, my eyes are red and my cheeks are blotchy. I look a damn mess, but even as I stare at my reflection, he doesn't once look away from me. With each brush of the damp fabric against my skin, his lip twitches like he’s restraining from smiling more, and his focus darts over my side profile.

Even like this, he has a way of making me feel like this is how things are supposed to be…

For a brief moment, I allow myself to believe that maybe… just maybe… this could be something real.

Even if good things never last.

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