Page 24 of Every Thought Taken

Yanking me forward, he bands his arms around my waist and presses his cheek to my chest. Startled by the action, it takes me a moment to register his embrace, his affection, his comfort. The second it clicks, I hug his shoulders and cry. He doesn’t interrupt or let go. No, he holds me tighter.

We stay like this for hour-long minutes. And when the tears simmer down, he loosens his hold, inches back, and guides me onto the bed.

In the pitch black of Anderson’s room, I let him haul me to his chest. I fist his hoodie and tangle my legs with his. Rest my head on his shoulder while I lean into the crook of his neck. Being with him like this doesn’t feel uncomfortable or wrong. If anything, it feels as if I can breathe for the first time in hours.

One hand pins me in place while the other strokes my back and toys with the length of my hair. His touch is hypnotic and tender and complete comfort.

He inhales deeply and presses his lips to my hair. “Want to tell me what happened?”

“Yes. No,” I mutter into his chest. “Yes.”

Soft laughter shakes his frame. “Whatever and whenever you want, North.”

My fingers shift to the strings of his hoodie. I hold them like a lifeline as I close my eyes and mentally prepare myself to share. He won’t like what I say. He won’t like that someone hurt more than just my feelings. What happened today… my trust in guys has tanked—with the exception of Anderson. He won’t like it, but I need someone to know.

Earlier, I shared a fraction of the story with Lessa and Mags. I wanted comfort more than an endless rant on how shitty Scott is as a human. I am fully aware now. So, I gave them a watered-down, generic version.

Anderson will get the full story. Not because I love Lessa and Mags less, but because he won’t flash me pitiful stares after I tell him. He won’t go on an endless tirade.

“Until today, I’ve been dating this guy, Scott.”

His body stiffens and his hand in my hair freezes. He takes a deep breath then resumes fiddling with the strands. “Mm-hmm.”

My heart beats a vicious rhythm in my chest, its theoretical fists pounding against my rib cage. I inhale a shaky breath and wish away the frenetic energy whirling beneath my lungs.

“During lunch, he asked if I would help him study after school. Said he wasn’t doing so great in algebra and knew I was a whiz.”

I shift my hands down his hoodie and tuck them in the front pocket. Anchor myself as I work up the courage to continue. As if he senses my anxiety, Anderson hugs me impossibly closer. One hand on my hip and the other at the nape of my neck.

“Got you, North,” he says with a conviction I’ve not heard before.

Sawing my lips between my teeth, I nod. After another deep breath, I force out my confession.

“He tried to force himself on me.” The words burn my tongue and steal my breath. Anderson vibrates as his arms secure me closer to him. “I said no,” I whisper. “And he wouldn’t stop.” Tears spill from my eyes and dampen his hoodie. “He pinned me to his bed, shoved my shirt up, and started unbuttoning my pants.” I sniffle and twist my hands in his hoodie pocket. “If his mom hadn’t walked in the room unannounced, things would’ve ended differently.” I shiver from head to toe. “When she saw the tears on my face, she slapped him. I grabbed my things and ran.” Tears soak my cheeks as I sob into his chest. “I was so scared, Ander.”

Warm lips press against my hair as he holds me in place. Comforts me with his strength and love. Brings me back to the here and now. With him.

“It’s over.” He kisses my head again. “He won’t hurt you.” He massages my neck and cocoons me in warmth. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

The promise is bold yet firm. I want to believe it. Want to believe I won’t know heartache or fear again. But it is a difficult pill to swallow. For now, though, I let myself indulge. Convince myself his words are law.

“Sorry I haven’t been around much.”

“No.” He kisses my crown. “Don’t apologize. Sure, life sucks more when you’re not here, but your world doesn’t revolve around me.”

I untuck my hands from his pocket and tip my head in an attempt to look at him. He shifts and meets my gaze, forehead scrunched in concern. And I don’t know what it is about the dark, but boldness takes over as I reach up and cup his cheek.

“Don’t do that,” I whisper.

Ever so slightly, he leans into my touch. “Do what?” he asks, his voice scratchy.

“Diminish your feelings to appease mine.” My thumb strokes his cheek once, twice, before my hand falls away. “Your feelings are valid.” I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. “It’s acceptable to admit I’ve been a shitty friend for months.”

He tugs on the end of my hair and drops his forehead to mine. “I’ve missed you, North.” His eyes close. “A lot.”

“Promise it won’t happen again.”

The room quiets as we curl into each other again. My eyelids grow heavy with his slow, lazy strokes along my spine. In his arms, I am at peace. In his arms, I am home.

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