Page 7 of Touch Me

“Well, no. Not fix it. But maybe you can see how he’s doing. Or get him out of the house. Help him make friends. And then maybe report back to me.”

I scoff as my stomach drops, and my mouth opens and closes. “I’m your secret agent?”

“No, no, of course not. I just thought if you were around, you could let me know he’s alright. He’s always so convincing when we text, but it’s easy to lie to someone when you aren’t looking them in the eye, ya know?” Jess tugs at the hem of her hoodie as her eyes bounce around the room.

“Jess, this isn’t really my area of expertise. I don’t make friends easily, and you know I ramble when I get nervous. He’s going to hate me. Hell, he already hates me. He isn’t going to open up to me just because I’m there.” I cross my arms over my chest to hold in the insecurity before it spews out onto the floor. “He’ll see right through your little plan.”

“I don’t have a little plan. I just want to know he’s okay.” She gives me big ole puppy dog eyes.

“How am I supposed to do that if he is always working?”

Her shoulders curl in, and she scrunches her nose. “Uh, he works from home.”

“What? He works from home?” I shake my head. “No. No. He’s always going to be there? You know my job is a lot of working from home. I’m going to drive him crazy being in his face all the time.” I pull the tape off the last box like I’m ready to unpack it.Ha!Like I have a choice to just plop down on the bed and stay here. “This is never going to work.”

“It’ll be fine.” She waves off my concern like a pesky fly. “I told him we’d come over today after lunch, and you can check the place out. It’s really beautiful; you’re going to love it.” She bounds off the bed and crushes me with a hug.

Silently groaning and resigned to the situation, I resume packing. I don’t have much, so it won’t take long, but I take my time doing it with precision and efficiency. Toiletries, clothes, shoes, and my small collection of books all get packed in a few small boxes. My whole life is piled at the end of my bed. How pathetic. The kitchen stuff I had accumulated will be left behind for the girls to use, as I’m sure Jace has a fully stocked kitchen. And I’ll toss what's left of my bathroom stuff in my bag after I shower.

We button up the last of my packing and I rush through bathing. Jess ambushes me before I can even go back to my room, practically pushing me out the door. We stop for a quick lunch at a nearby deli and head over to Jace’s condo.

Sweat breaks out along my back as the same vision that’s haunted me for years materializes in my head. His eyes, so full of hate, leveled at me. This is such a bad idea. The closer we get, the less I can breathe. I pick at a non-existent hangnail until my finger throbs.

I can't help but feel like I’m driving directly into the lion’s den. The lion being a sexy recluse with icy blue eyes. The only one who could ever make me cower and flee with just a look. Hunter and prey. I’m not even in front of him yet, and I already feel like a casualty. A victim.Hisvictim.

The icing on the cake? Being hand delivered by my best friend, the lion’s sister.

THREE

DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER

I’ve hada rock the size of an SUV taking up residence in my stomach all day.

What was I thinking?

I anticipate their arrival as I sit at my makeshift desk in the open concept living space. When Jess texted me yesterday, I’d immediately said no. But she was persistent, telling me Cassie had no place to go, and it would only be for a couple of months until she gets a paying job. I couldn’t let her go homeless now, could I?

Trying to concentrate on work is impossible. I can’t eat, I can’t focus. My hands are too sweaty to even hold a pen, and my legs are bouncing with such violence my desk rattles.

I have an actual office I can use, but I always prefer sitting near the windows to feel the sun warm my skin. I have a small drawing table I use for a desk near the dining room. My laptop sits open in front of me as I stare blankly at the numbers, trying to remember where I left off.

Cassie Sinclair. Why did it have to beher? My sister couldn’t have asked me to be roommates with someone else? It had to be her? Of course, I could’ve said no, but could I really? I knew her situation when we were younger. Piece of shit parents who couldn’t be bothered with the care of their children.

My parents weren’t perfect. Far from it, actually, although it would be impossible to see from the outside looking in. My dad may be a judgemental prick, but at least he had the decency to provide for his kids. While he was a good dad to Jack and Jess, he couldn’t be bothered with me. The weird one. The unpopular one. The one who didn’t give a shit about appearances.

Apparently, I made him look bad. Because I wasn’t an all-star athlete, and I didn't have a pretty, wealthy girl on my arm. It didn’t matter that I worked hard and got good grades. Oh, but it mattered when I was named valedictorian. Because then he had bragging rights. He didn’t do shit to encourage me, but he was all too eager to claim credit to his rich, asswipe friends.

I’m only doing this because I feel like I owe it to her for the way I treated her when we were younger. Not that I was mean to her or mistreated her in any way, but I feel like I need to absolve myself somehow for that night at dinner.

As much as I’d like to think it didn’t affect her at all—I mean, I’m a nobody, why would she care?—she didn’t come around much after that, and I can’t help but think it’s my fault. And knowing what her home life was like, I feel like an ass if she spent more time there than at our house because of me. It was either that look I gave her at dinner or the fact that I’m a moody prick who ignores everyone. Still my fault, no matter how you look at it.

I didn’t mean to scare her. I was just fed up with my father not accepting me for who I am. She happened to be sitting across from me, and I fixated on her face as I thought about the fact that I would never be good enough for someone like her. It was as if I saw a glimpse of the future I should be capable of in her eyes, and thenpoof, gone. I would never have a normal relationship because of myaffliction.

It isn’t something people can easily understand, and I feel no need to define myself. I don’t want or need their approval. I’ve gotten really good at ignoring their presumptions. I’ve had a lifetime of scrutiny at home to toughen my skin to others’ judgmental bullshit. People can call me weird all they want, I really don’t care anymore. It was tough when I was younger because, well, kids are assholes, but I am perfectly content with life just the way it is.

But now Cassie’s on her way over with my sister. And I don’t know if I can handle judgy eyes from her. She's the epitome of the perfect girl. Gorgeous green eyes and long, dark brown hair. But it isn’t just her looks. She’s smart and ambitious, driven to succeed when anyone else in her situation would give up, and no one would blame her. She always had this light about her, even when she was younger. Sunshine poured out of her. She has every right to resent the world for the hand she’s been dealt, but it just pushes her to do better, try harder, be stronger. Something I can't do myself. I admire that about her.

I’ve asked my sister about her from time to time and was always happy when I heard she was doing well. Jess would get this weird smile on her face and tease me about liking her, but I tried to play it off as a way of making small talk—something she said I needed to work on. Apparently, I make silence awkward, but I don’t see the point in meaningless conversation. I’ll talk when I have something to say.

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