Page 32 of Save Me

I wince as I look at the damage I’ve caused, and when I look up at Ryan, to explain that it’s not what it looks like, he’s already gone.

*

I stalk backto the bedroom replaying everything Ryan said to me and what I said to him. The water and soap bite into my cut, and I grimace as I wash my hands in the bathroom sink before placing a Band-Aid around my thumb. The stone floor in the bathroom is cold and I try not to let it remind me of the floor at Rhett’s. I shift from one foot to the other as I try to shake the emotions that threaten to resurface, as I swallow down the frustration and anger of having something as simple as a cold floor now associated with a dark memory.

I look at myself in the mirror, hoping everything will go back to normal soon, willing myself to feel normal again. I want it all to stop—the constant onslaught of emotions that are too big to fit inside of my body, too heavy to carry by myself. I want to be happy again, to feel genuinely happy, and not just have fleeting moments of joy before my memories or feelings extinguish it.

I hear the click of the door and footsteps slowly make their way through the room, footsteps that I could recognize as Jax’s even if I was unable to see him in the mirror. His presence fills the space and I turn around, walking towards him and meeting him halfway between the bathroom door and the bed, willing myself to lock away everything I was feeling.

“I’ll never get over how much I love seeing you here,” he starts.

“In your room?”

“Our room,” he replies simply, his eyes twinkling. “I hope you know this house is as much yours as it is mine, love. And I hope you view it that way, as your home.”

I kiss him lightly, tenderly, as he wraps his muscled arms around me. “Anywhere that you are is my home, Jax,” I murmur, and he smiles against my lips. I melt into him, wondering how such a hard body can be so gentle and feel so soft wrapped around me.

I roam my hands over him as my kisses become more frenzied, filled with both the need for Jax and the desire for everything to go back to normal.

“I want this. I want you,” I say to him as his green eyes search mine. I try to sound convincing, try to look at him the way I used to, when in reality it feels forced reaching out to him for this, formorethan just this.

“Love…” He starts quietly before trailing off. His hands firmly wrapping around me.

“Jax,” I respond, “Ineedthis.” I all but plead. But honestly, I don’t even know what I need besides everything going back to how it wasbefore.

I need to forget whathefelt like.I leave the unspoken words on the tip of my tongue as I reach towards Jax again, hoping he doesn’t see through the façade.

I want to remember what his touch feels like, and to feel the all-consuming warmth of him surrounding every inch of me.

Ineedto remember what it’s like to have soft hands and tender kisses caress my skin, towantto have someone devouring every part of my body and soul.

I take a step back from him and his arms fall by his sides as he takes a deep breath, hesitancy etched onto his features, the conflict behind his eyes obvious.

My back arches as I pull my shirt off over my head, and the familiar pull of freshly healed skin causes a flash of fire to sear across my body. I ignore the feeling, focusing instead on the cool air as it hits my naked chest, my nipples pebbling in response to the cold.

I slowly pull down my pants, shimmying out of them while I steal a quick glance at Jax, his eyes tracking my every move.

I gently toss my pants aside and make myself look at him again.

I don’t ever remember feeling vulnerable near him, but the boldness I’m used to feeling is nowhere to be found, and I resist the urge to cover myself.

If I can pretend everything is fine, maybe it will be.

“I don’t recall ever having to beg you for it, Mr. Turner,” I say, hoping the forced playfulness in my tone hides my hesitation, that my shallow breathing looks like arousal and not panic.

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for,” Jax says softly as he takes a cautious step toward me.

“I’m ready for this.” The words roll off my tongue, my lie as effortless as loving Jax.

I close the gap between us, my eyes following the tattoos across his chest as my hands find their way to his pants. I pull them down quickly before turning around and facing the bed.

I want to look at him, I want to take my time with him. But something in me just can’t, and I close my eyes trying not to linger on the thought of not being able to go back to who I was.

I feel Jax behind me, the heat of his body and the hard length of him pressed against my rear.

I flinch as his hand touches my skin, tracing the scabs that cover my back.

“Sorry.” His voice is all but a whisper. “I am so sorry, love.” I can feel the emotion laced through his words.

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