Page 62 of Touch Me

“No, I just—”

“You don’t have a fucking clue, Cassie.” He digs a finger into his temple as he leans down to scream, inches from my face. “You don’t know what it's like in my head... in this body.” He pulls his shirt away from his skin like it assaulted him. “Don’t you think if it was something I could will away, I would’ve done that already?”

Everything I say seems to make it worse, so I opt for silence, casting my eyes down at my feet when I can’t handle the intense pain in his eyes. Biting my lip, I blink away the sting of tears and will them not to spill over. When he leans down to level himself in my line of sight to continue spewing his rage, I meet his eyes and whatever he sees has him clamping his mouth shut and raising himself to his full height.

Jace runs his hand violently over his face and through his hair. His feet move a step forward and then back. Forward and back. It’s then I realize he’s only standing in front of me because I told him no more running.

“Go.” One word. That’s all I’ll give him after completely twisting my intentions into this ugly, hateful interaction.

The anger burning in his eyes when he turns to me should scare me. It doesn’t. I know it’s not for me. He’s angry at himself. Whether it’s for how this played out or for thinking he’s weak enough to wait for permission to leave the room, I’ll never know. But I recognize the look as I’ve seen it many times over the years.

Having pertinent information now and being able to apply that to every instance I’ve seen that look in his eyes, it’s easy to see the self-hatred. It’s easy to see he’s going to carry the weight of this on his already overloaded shoulders because he blames himself for all of it.

My instinct is to reach for him. To praise him. To placate him with soft, soothing words and make him understand none of this is his fault. But I tried that five minutes ago and this is the result.

My softened gaze only seems to amplify his anger.

“Save your pity.” He rushes past me, almost close enough to brush my shoulder in what I assume is an attempt to say how dare I infer he was waiting for my permission.

My phone alerts my Uber has arrived just as his door slams down the hall, and I decide then and there I’m going to drink more than is necessary tonight, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.

* * *

After copious amounts of tequila,dancing with strangers, and completely meaningless conversations—thank god—it’s two a.m. and Jess says it’s time to leave.

“Boo,” I pout, jutting out my bottom lip.

“C’mon, babe. I’ll call you an Uber.” After a stop at the bar, where they force-feed me a bottle of water, we head outside to sit and wait for my ride. I not so gracefully plop myself on the curb and tip backward with my legs straight up in the air.

Ella snorts. “Good thing you didn’t wear a mini skirt tonight.”

“I forgot what it feels like to have my legs in the air.” I giggle.

“If you weren’t so hammered, I would advise picking a guy and going back to his place. But let’s be honest, you’d be worthless in bed and probably wouldn’t even remember it.” Jess grunts as she lifts me back to a seated position.

“And I wanna ‘member,” I slur. “It’s been so long. Maybe I should juss pick someone.” I turn around and take a blurry stock of the sidewalk patrons. “Hey, whas your name?” I ask some decently dressed guy, at least as far as I can focus.

His lips stretch into a smile and he takes a step toward me. Ella, all five feet two inches of her, jumps between us and blocks his path. With her blue eyes ablaze and her fiery red hair, she places a finger in the middle of his chest and pushes him back. “I don’t think so, Romeo. What? Do you wait until they start slurring to make your move? Get the fuck outta here,” she yells, gesturing wildly with her hands in his face.

My little spitfire.

“What the fuck?” Sidewalk Boy doesn’t take kindly to his morals being questioned apparently. “She asked me.”

I swat at Ella’s finger as it’s aimed at me while she squares up with this random guy I actually have no interest in whatsoever. “Does she look like she’s in any position to be making rational decisions right now?”

“She sure was a minute ago,” he laughs, referring to when my legs were in the air,I think. I start laughing hysterically because if that’s what he meant, it’s actually fucking hilarious.

I yelp and jerk my feet back when a scooter screeches to a stop right in front of me.

“Cassie?”

“Yessss, thas me.” I roll to the side to heave myself to a standing position. “Who are you?”

“I’m your ride. Did you call for an Uber?”

Jess and Ella exchange glances, completely ignoring my celebratory sidewalk dance at my first ever motorcycle ride.

“I called an Uber,” Jess says.

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