Page 101 of Broken Breath
He cranes his neck, looking past me down the hallway, but I just shake my head and push through the stairwell door.
It slams behind me, echoing down the concrete wall as I take the stairs two at a time.
My hand drags over my mouth like I can erase the kiss with friction, rub away the feel of her lips, but it’s useless.
The taste of her is still on my tongue.
The sound of her breath is still tangled with mine.
Fuck.
What have I done?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alaina
The gym door clicks shut behind Finn, and I stand there, staring at the space he left behind like it might open back up and give me a do-over.
Another sob claws up my throat before I can stop it, but I choke it down. Barely.
What the fuck did I just do?
The air still smells like him. Sweat, soap, and something warm and syrupy that feels like safety, which is bullshit, because nothing about this feels safe.
My whole body feels peeled open, nerves flayed raw, the ghost of his hands still skating over every inch of skin I usually keep hidden, and his voice still reverberates in my head.
“Show me the truth of it.”
And I let him. I fucking let him see everything.
The scars. The damage. The wreckage.
I didn’t just let him see it, I guided his hand. Invited him in like I wanted to be known, and I could afford that kind of closeness.
Stupid.So fucking stupid, Alaina.
I look up, meet my reflection in the mirror, and flinch. I lookexposed. Raw. My clothes are a mess, my face is blotchy, and my skin that is usually so carefully covered is revealed.
I rush to grab the hoodie and yank it over my head so fast I nearly trip, but it’s no good. The fabric doesn’t erase his fingerprints, and it doesn’t scrub away the way his voice shook when he saidbaby girllike he meant it.
And then he looked at me like I was a goddamn mistake.
I slam my hands into the mirror, palms flat, forehead pressed between them, like maybe if I press hard enough, I can shatter the reflection and crawl out of this moment.
The mirror vibrates so hard, my phone slips off the bench beside me and clatters to the floor, the screen lighting up like a spotlight, and that damn song is still playing on repeat.
I can’t stop shaking. My breath is ragged, and my chest hitches like my body can’t decide if I’m about to cry or scream. Maybe both.
He saw me, really saw me.
And then he ran.
My ribs ache with the memory of his fingers ghosting over them, so I pull the hoodie down to my knees, but it’s no good. The ghost of Finn’s fingers remains, trailing along my ribs, hips, and just under the band of my bra. Itburns.
Drowning in the aftermath, I just stand there, trying to remember how to function. Then my phone buzzes at my feet, vibrating against the floor, and I flinch as I remember the fight with Dane, the reason why I was in here crying my eyes out in the first place. My hands are still unsteady as I crouch down and grab it, shutting off the music before reading the newest text from my brother.
Dane
