Page 71 of Revolve
Scarlett opens the door with a sympathetic smile. “She’s not feeling so great, Dylan.”
“I know, but I just want to make sure she’s okay. Please, Scarlett.”
She must see the desperation in my eyes, because she pulls the door open wider and lets me in. But just as I start toward Sierra’s room, Scarlett stops me, turning me to face her again.
“Dylan, I know you’re her partner, and I can see you care abouther. But she’s been hurt before, and she’s not the kind of girl that’s going to let you hold her hand.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’m going to anyway.”
I step past her and rap my knuckles once on Sierra’s door before pushing it open. The sight inside knocks the breath out of me. She’s lying on her side, curled up with her hands tucked between her thighs, and she’s wearing my hoodie.
It’s too big on her, the sleeves swallowing her fingertips, the hem brushing her knees. The image of her wrapped up in something of mine makes it hard to swallow.
“Sorry I left—” she starts when she sees me.
“Don’t.” I close the door and move to sit on her bed. It’s small, nowhere near big enough for me, but I stay there, brushing a hand across her cheek.
Sierra’s lip starts to tremble, and she buries her face in her hands.
“Come here, baby,” I whisper, gently drawing her in. She moves without hesitation, tucking her face in the crook of my neck. Sierra melts into my arms, just like she did last night. Like she belongs there. I’m not sure she even realizes that she scoots back to make room for me on her bed. I don’t question it; I ease down beside her, pulling her close until we’re tangled together.
“I thought I was better. But seeing all that blood, and hearing her scream, it took me right back.” Her voice shakes. “Andhejust stood there. Exactly like he did when I fell. It just reminds me of how stupid I was trying to be enough for him and never measuring up. I would let him throw fits and scream at me, thinking it was my fault. I always tried to improve because I knew I could be better.”
A storm threatens to break inside me. “You don’t need to be screamed at, ever,” I say roughly.
She shakes her head. “But I still understood why he did it. He was just frustrated, and I know how I can be.”
“Don’t say that, Sierra. Not to me. Because if I see him again, Iwon’t be able to stop myself from knocking his teeth out.” I make her look at me this time. “You could never deserve that.”
She sighs, clutching my shirt. “It’s like the universe wanted to remind me that, at the end of the day, that’s my story. No matter how far I try to run from it.”
She’s shaking, but I can tell she’s not crying or, rather, fighting not to. My fingers slip into her hair, combing through the strands. “Your reaction doesn’t mean you aren’t healing. You’ve gotten yourself all the way here.” I pause, my thumb brushing gently against her temple. “And if you need my hand to help you make it the rest of the way, I’ll be here. But this is all you, Sierra. It always has been.”
She’s barely smiling, but I’ll take it. “It sounds easy when you say it.”
“Seeing you in pain isn’t something I enjoy, but the way you continuously push through it is the most incredible thing I’ve witnessed.” Her cheeks go pink, and I can’t help but chuckle.
She furrows her brow. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Can’t help it,” I say, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’ve never seen someone who’s threatened to slit my throat blush this much.”
“Must be an allergic reaction,” she mutters, her palms flying up to press against her cheeks.
I lean in, closing the space between us, and press a soft kiss to one flushed cheek, then the other. Her hands drop, her eyes wide as she blinks at me, nose to nose. Her warm breath brushes against my lips, and I don’t move. Scarlett’s words come back to me, but every single one incinerates when Sierra’s lips press against mine.
The kiss is nothing like the one in the car, or on the mats. This one is slow, gentle, and vulnerable. Her tongue slides against mine, and she fists my shirt while she moans into my mouth. I could never get tired of this.
Then, when my hand falls against her waist, where the hoodie has ridden up, Sierra slaps a hand over mine and pulls away. It’s the third time she’s done that.
“What’s wrong?”
She sits up, moving right against her headboard, frantically shaking her head. “Nothing. Sor—I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“When you kiss like that, Sierra, you don’t get to go shy on me.” Her gaze is fixed on the bed, until I sit up to take her chin between my fingers. “What is it?”
“I have scars,” she blurts out.
SIERRA
