Page 92 of Revolve
“But—”
“We’re partners, I know. That’s all you want, and it’s what I want too. No strings. Nothing’s going to stand in the way of your win. I promise.”
It sounds all wrong when he says it. Like we’re throwing pieces of cooked pasta against the wall in hopes that one will stick. But even as I tell myself that, I know he’s right. I gave myself to Justin only to lose him and everything I loved that night. I want so badly for this to be different that I can’t repeat the past. Dylan and I are uncomplicated. Our goals revolve around what we need from each other, and we won’t stray from that.
Dylan pulls out of me slowly, leaving a hollow ache in his absence, as if he’s taken a piece of me with him. My body is spent, every inch of me is humming with the aftershocks, and the way I feel right now is so unfamiliar, it unsettles me.
I’ve been in control my whole life. Then, the second I hit that ice, I lost my grip. Even looking in the mirror—something I can hardly do—used to feel wrong because I didn’t recognize the girl staring back. All this time, I’ve been so desperate to reclaim the old me that accepting the new one feels like a betrayal. And then something completely mortifying happens.
I start crying.
Dylan looks panicked as he hurriedly discards the condom, then lays me on the bed. “Tell me what I can do,” he says immediately.
“I’m fine. I—God, this is embarrassing. I don’t even know why I’m crying.” I hiccup.
“Hey, it’s okay. I told you, you don’t need to be embarrassed with me, ever.” He kisses my nose. “It’s normal. Sex can bring up a lot of emotions, and it probably hit you all at once. You’ll be okay.”
“I don’t normally react like this,” I murmur into his chest.
Dylan chuckles. “You’re allowed to feel, Sierra. Good or bad, I’ve got you.”
When he turns off the single light, I panic for a split second, and he must feel me jerk, because he flips the lamp back on.
“I haven’t been able to sleep in the dark since—”
“We’ll leave it on then.”
“But it’s annoying. I can call an Uber, it’s not a big deal,” I say, already turning away to get my phone. It feels so much heavier to stay.
“Shh.” Dylan pulls me close like the light doesn’t bother him.
It feels like this was the reason humans were given skin. To be consumed by this achingly desperate touch and the sensation that sparks up my spine. What terrifies me most is that it makes me feel like I could stay. To sleep wrapped in his arms and nothing else.
But I haven’t fallen asleep with anyone, ever. I don’t know if I’ll wake up to a panic attack or my brain will find something else to set me off. I’ve become so unpredictable, even to myself, it’s fucking terrifying. It makes me realize what Dylan and I just shared and what’s at stake.
Sleep never comes, but I don’t move until I’m sure Dylan’s asleep.
THIRTY-THREE
DYLAN
I WAKE UPwith a smile. A real one. It’s been a long fucking while since that’s happened.
Sierra’s green eyes burned like embers, alight with something I’d never seen before. She even took off that stupid anklet Justin gave her. I hated that thing because she never needed a good luck charm. It’s all her, and I’m glad she’s realized that.
We’ve been close before, closer than most people are on a daily basis, but this time, everything shifted. I’ve memorized her warmth, her softness, the delicate way she fits in my arms and on my lap. I needed her in every way I could have her. And now I can’t drive away the hole that dug deeper in my chest as I gave her what she needed. WhatIneeded.
But as I open my eyes, the smile melts clean off my face. There’s a raw ache of emptiness, like a cave wall that’s been eroded by the constant drip of water. Gray, hollow, abandoned.
My bed is empty, save for the lingering scent of cherry on my pillow. The new pillows. The ones that don’t even smell like me yet hold on to her scent like it’s their fucking job.
It nearly guts me to think she got up before me and the first thingshe wanted to do was leave. It makes me think of all the times I’ve been relieved to find myself alone after a night with a girl, or when I’d leave their dorms because that’s what they wanted. That’s what they always wanted. No one wants to stick around, and I’d never ask them to. So, why doesthisfeel so different?
I grab my phone from the dresser and find an email from Lidia about the Lake Placid competition next weekend, along with texts about another party. Sorority girls, my frat, Sampson—I ignored all of them yesterday because none of it mattered. I used to answer those texts, be where everyone else was, hearing the chants ofDouble D!and fading into who they wanted me to be, until the alcohol lost its taste.
I head to the bathroom, but the roughness in my throat doesn’t ebb even after I brush my teeth. The house is empty because Aiden left for Toronto this morning, and Summer’s at Iona.
Kian’s got class all day, so he’s going straight to the rink for practice. It’s a shorter one, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be any less exhausted from the jumps for skating later. But that’s a nonissue. I’m going to do both, and I won’t let anything stop me. Not even the way I’m sweating before I even get to the rink.
