Page 67 of Touch Me

“Liar.” Her eyes fall to her lap. “Just hold the damn chair.”

Circling behind her, I grip the chair so she can stand, and Cassie raises herself slowly by the armrests, taking a second to gain her balance. She puts weight on her bad foot, bracing herself on the end table, and I anticipate the fall before her leg buckles under her. Kicking the chair out of the way, I lunge for her as her arms flail, a hit to the chest not slowing me down as I sweep her legs off the ground and cradle her in my arms.

My instinct is to throw her on the couch. But I don’t. I freeze. The weight of her in my arms, and the acute awareness of all the places our bodies are touching, sends a violent tremor through my legs. My teeth clench, my eyes snap shut in an attempt to cut off stimulation, and my lungs burn with the need for fresh air, for open space.

Breathe, just breathe.

“Jace?”

My eyes slide open and there she is. Her face inches from mine. Her breath so close I can feel its warmth, smell its sweetness. But it’s her eyes that have me paralyzed, my brain finally quieting. Distracted enough that I no longer want her body parted from mine.

“What are you doing? You can set me down.”

My lungs suck in a deep breath. “Just... let me see something.”

I can say with confidence this will never happen again, so I vow to commit every detail to memory. Her eyes, her freckles, the little dip at the top of her full lips, and back to her eyes. They’re green, the most vibrant green I’ve ever seen, but they have little flecks of brown and gold that I’ve never been close enough to see.

Her eyes roam around my face and a very vain selfish part of me hopes she’s memorizing me too. “Is this you trying?”

The two of us both take in a deep breath and continue to soak up this moment, up close. “I guess it is.”

She bites her lip as she wraps her hands around my neck and links her fingers. “How does it feel?”

“I kinda want to throw you on the couch.”

Pink instantly colors her cheeks, and her eyes dart down between us. “Well, uh, that’s kinda hot.”

“Very funny.” I set her gently on the couch and immediately take two steps back. I need distance.

I need air.

I feel the heat of her eyes on my back as I walk away. “So it’s not just skin-to-skin. That was too much?”

Pacing the floor from the couch to the fireplace a few times, I say, “At first, yeah, it was too much. But then I got a little distracted, and it disappeared for a minute.”

“Do you think it’s something you can build up to?” Her eyes drop to her hands in her lap, and she picks at her cuticles before lifting her head to ask, “Is that something you want?”

Of course I want that. It’s all I can do every day not to think about touching her. A shudder tracks down my spine when I look at Cassie, with thoughts of running my hands over the smooth skin of her hips as she hovers over me. My mind drifts back to the elevator the other night. Should I be embarrassed? Embarrassed that she remembers what I said? I don’t think I am. I’m more ashamed by the fact that I can’t touch her than I am about the fact that she knows I want to.

“I don’t know. I had a bad experience once, and I guess I’ve never wanted to try again.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind talking about it.”

I pace the floor, trying to decide if this is a story I can share. At this point, adding another drop in the already full bucket of humiliation is moot. It isn’t going to domoredamage. “It was in college. A couple of guys that were friends with my roommate had a party. Max convinced me to go. I hadn’t told him at that point, and it was easier to go than to explain to him why I didn’t want to.”

I turn my back to her, absently picking at the mantle, but the weight of her eyes on me, judging me, lodges a lump in my throat. “Anyway, we had some drinks. Some girl was flirting with me and Max ended up bringing her and her friend back to our place. I had a few more drinks, thinking it would help with the anxiety and, you know, dull the sensations. Max and his girl went to his room, and I took the other girl back to my room. It started out with me avoiding her and trying to talk her out of the flirting banter. She climbed on top of me and tried to take my shirt off. Instead of resisting, I thought I would just see what happened. Soon we were both near naked. Of course, I was excited physically, because, uh, it doesn’t take much for a guy.”

I smirk, peeking over my shoulder at her, and she smiles, pink tinting her cheeks. “She straddled my lap, and I immediately wanted her off of me. The alcohol did nothing to dull any sensations. The minute she put her hand down my pants, I stood straight up, throwing her off me. She hit the nightstand and broke her collarbone.” I run my hands over my face, still able to picture the look on her face, the pain in her eyes. “I never want to go through that again. Or put anyone else through that. She felt rejected, and I felt like a freak.”

When I turn around, Cassie has her hands on either side of her face, sympathy or pity, I’m not sure which at this point, shining in her eyes. “Oh, Jace. That’s awful. I understand not wanting to go through that again.”

“Listen, about the other night, in the elevator...” How do I say this?

“I’m sorry. I was an ass,” she says.

“No, it’s fine. You said what you felt. And it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just—”

She waves her hand in front of her face. “I get it. You don’t have to explain.”