Page 43 of Nothing To Lose
"Do you have cameras in your back alley?"
13
TYLER
"Harder."
Looking at Isaac uncertainly, I punch the bag harder, giving it all I've got.
"Harder."
Damn.He's been in a weird mood ever since I told him I was going back to my classes this week. I thought he'd be happy, seeing as he's been trying to force me to be more social lately. Now that the bruises have faded enough, even though they're a god-awful color, I can cover them pretty easily with a bit of concealer. We got through brunch and a ton of errands yesterday without even one person staring at me. My teachers have been accommodating with my assignments, but I'm guaranteed to get a better grade if I can be part of the presentations this week.
"Again."
"Can we be done now?"
"If you're going to defend yourself, you need to know how to throw a punch. You've got the form down, but you need to put more power behind it. You can't hurt this bag. Believe me, I've tried. So hit the damn thing."
Frustrated and irritated over his pissy mood, I throw one final punch at the bag, imagining his face there. But I'm not actually mad at him, so I imagine my dad's face next instead. And then Guy's. And I keep punching, over and over, until I'm out of breath and tears are threatening.
"Whoa, whoa.Okay.We can be done," Isaac says, his tone gentle. He pulls me into a hug, but I'm too tense.
"Why are you mad at me?" I ask him. "Is it because I'm going back to class?"
"What? No! I'm really proud of you, and I think you should go back. It'll be good for you."
I take a moment to process his words, trying to figure out what could be bothering him, then. "Are you ready for me to move back home? Because if you need space, I understand."I just don't want this to be over.
"I'm going to be really honest with you right now," he says seriously, and I step back, steeling myself. "I'd be happier if you stayed. It's probably weird and clingy, but I couldn't care less if you ever move back home. I like having you here, but if it's too much for you and you need space, I also understand. I just need you to be safe."
I just need you to be safe.
"Tyler, listen to everything I just said, not whatever you're reprocessing right now. Ilikeyou here, with me." He takes a breath. "I like waking up next to you. I like the way we can both work on our own things but still be near each other. I like how we joke and play around, and I really,reallylike our lessons."
"I like those, too," I mutter, earning me a laugh. This time, when he pulls me into a hug, I relax into it.
"I'm not mad at you. I am worried, though."
"You don't need to be," I say. "I'm pretty sure I won’t have to grapple with anyone in any of my classes." His expression turns serious again, and I can hear his unsaid thought— I was pretty sure I wasn't going to have to grapple with anyone last Friday, either.
To deflect, I lean back, grab his arm and pull while kicking out my leg to trip him. He's either truly not expecting it, or he likes letting me win, because he's flat on his back in the next second, blinking up at me with surprise. I drop down on top of him, straddling his waist. He looks up at me and makes an impressed face that spreads into a grin. His eyes flick to my mouth, and he wets his lips. That's all the invitation I need. My mouth is on him in an instant, and then we're making out, hard and frantic, rolling around the floor while we pretend to grapple.
"What's our next lesson, Mr. Casey?" I ask, panting, once I get control again. I grind down on his lap, making sure he damn well understands what kind of lesson I mean. "Or should we do a review? Because I like the taste of your–"
Isaac rolls me over so that I’m flat on my stomach, his body laying over mine. His cock presses against my ass from behind, and he has one hand in my hair. He leans down as if to whisper something dirty, something I’d usually eat up like my favorite ice cream flavor. But somewhere in the middle of the surprise and flare of arousal, there's a familiarity to the position that has bile rising in my throat. I freeze on instinct and a small whimper escapes.
I don't know how he knows the difference, or how he can tell that something's not right, but Isaac is off me in an instant, pulling me up and into his lap.
It was just a moment. An innocent moment. Not even close to the way things were back in that alley, but a moment is apparently all it takes to tear away some of my already fragile sanity. It's not enough that he already haunts my dreams, that I can't even turn on my phone, or that I can’t go home without worrying he'll be there. Now the memory of what he did to me is infiltrating my mind, confusing my body and ruining what should be a fun, playful, sexy moment with Isaac.
Isaac holds me, making comforting shushing sounds, his low voice telling me it'll be alright. It's his reaction, more than my own, that has me in tears.How is it that someone can be this good? I don't deserve him.
"I'm okay," I say through snot and tears. "I don't know what that was."
"It's called a freeze response. It's common after a traumatic event, especially for people who might have PTSD."
"I don't have PTSD."
