Page 77 of Never Will I Ever

“Why me?” I ask softly, the question coming out before I can reel it in.

It’s one that’s been in my head since we spoke on the dock, where he gave me a secret he’s shared with no one else. It keeps on tapping against the back of my skull, pleading for an answer, while we continue falling into whatever this is between us. I’ve just been able to ignore it until now.

He’s silent for a moment, almost pondering the many meanings the question could have, but he doesn’t ask me to elaborate. From the way his gaze drops to my lips again, he knows exactly what I mean.

“Because you feel safe. That’s not something I’ve really felt before.” His lips twitch at the corner, a wry smirk appearing.“Sure, I felt safe on Toppr, but that was just an illusion my anonymity created. It wasn’t real, and I doubt I could’ve ever followed through with a meetup, had it even come to that.”

“Not even with Keene?”

He shakes his head, now staring out at the sunset in front of us.

“The problem with being anonymous was that it was still hiding, and I’m so sick of hiding. I may have been testing the waters, so to speak, but I was still shoved so far inside the closet with no way out. And though Keene may have empathized with my struggles, he couldn’t guide me out of it. He wasn’t gonna challenge my ways of thinking or force me to stand in the mirror, look at myself, and see past all the shame and doubt and loathing. Not when he was still figuring it all out himself.” His pensive expression has a daydream-like air to it now, and a small smile appears. “I guess he was just a stepping stone toward that, you know? Preparing me to be vulnerable enough to show all of that to the right person, whenever they came along.”

My throat catches, not prepared for the insinuation that…

Shit.

“And that’s me?”

His lips part, like he’s about to say something, only for a soft laugh to come out instead.

“I mean, yeah. I guess so. You definitely challenge me. Whenever my instinct to fight comes out, you make me sit with it instead. Face it head on. And showing you those parts of me… I don’t know, it just felt natural.” His teeth scrape over his lower lip, worrying it while he stares at the fading sky. “Probably because I knew you couldn’t hate me any more than you already did, right?”

My heart squeezes in my chest painfully as I slip my fingers under his chin, turn it toward me, and force him to meet my gaze. Because if there’s ever been a moment where he needs to be certain about what I’m saying, it’s this one.

“I don’t hate you.”

I never have.

I’ve been angry, frustrated, and irritated with him, just to name a few emotions. Never hate, though. Even when I wanted to, even when I saw the depths of his cruelty, it was impossible.

Maybe because, somewhere inside me, I knew what lay beneath the surface. I knewthisversion of him was waiting to be set free. And I swear, as I watch every bit of his lingering fear leave his eyes and disappear in the wind, I think it finally has.

“Until you, no one has managed to silence Shame’s screams. Even momentarily.”

All the oxygen leaves my lungs, and my ribs feel too fucking tight to breathe right as his gaze sweeps over my face.

This is the part that makes it so tricky between us.

Tossing jabs and banter, I can do all day. It’s an easy rhythm we can fall into, keeping it light and playful between sessions where we strip each other to nothing. But whenever something pure or vulnerable leaves his mouth, it’s like he takes a pocket knife and drives it into my chest.

Avery’s thumb returns to my jaw, the pad scraping over my beard gently when he whispers, “Did you mean what you said before? About not needing to ask for permission?”

Fuck me.

I swallow harshly as my eyes flash down to his lips. Then I nod ever so slightly.

A small, shy smile appears before he slides his hand back to my hair. Reeling me in, his mouth finds mine and my stomach does that stupid flippy thing all over again.

His lips are soft and gentle, sweeping over mine in a sensual caress rather than one filled with unchecked passion, but it still charges every atom in my body. Lately, sharing even the faintest touch charges the air with enough electricity to power New York City for a damn decade, and this is the perfect example of that.

The reality is, I’ve never wanted someone the way I do Avery. Haven’t craved the feeling of lips pressed to mine the way I do his, or the heat from his bare skin beneath my touch. And those things are only the beginning.

More times than I can count, my mind has fixated on the idea of getting him inside one of our cabins, pinning him to the bed, and fucking devouring him in whatever way he’ll let me. In every way, preferably, leaving no inch of his body untouched or overlooked.

Yet, as tempting as it is, I can’t bring myself to act on it.

I’m terrified of what it would do to the mess inside his head.

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