Page 62 of Corrupt Me

In just my boxer briefs, I climb into bed with her.

“Do you want to watch something?” she asks, chewing on her bottom lip.

“You pick.”

“Okay,” she says and opens her laptop, starting a wildlife documentary, her eyes fully riveted on the screen.

“Didn’t expect that.”

“It’s really interesting watching the animals’ behavior in their natural habitat, following their instincts. There’s no shame or judgment.”

We watch as a lioness rips into an antelope, and Bailey doesn’t even flinch, but she sighs deeply. “That’s the cycle of life.”

Not even a few minutes later, she’s bawling at the sight of cubs left alone with a hyena lurking nearby. She’s so stiff next to me that I mumble, “Of course you can’t sleep if you watch stuff like that.”

“Shh. Oh my god. Where is their fucking mother?”

I have never heard her swear. Her eyes flicker across the screen, hand clutching her chest.

“What was that about the cycle of life?”

She waves a hand in a shushing motion, but I lace our fingers together, and she squeezes mine whenever anticipation gets the better of her. While she’s absorbed in the documentary, I watch her instead. She’s so captivating and expressive.

After the documentary ends, she shuts the laptop’s lid and places it on her nightstand.

Her back is pressed against my chest, and my arm is wrapped around her belly. Holding her to me, I experience an odd sense of peace. Inhaling her strawberry scent with hints of vanilla and magnolia, I flick a strand of hair and rub my nose against the small hickey on her neck. I could beat my chest like a caveman. No wonder the Neanderthals didn’t survive in the long run, ruled by animalistic instincts to fight and mate.

“Don’t leave,” she says my name in a sleepy voice.

Even if I wanted to leave, I doubt I could—she feels like my custom-made home.

This night will be the last. Surely, it’s the remnants of my guilt. I should have stayed with her last night after I took her virginity instead of leaving.

When I drift to sleep, Alice grips my chin between her red nails, whispering to me, “Does she know what a good boy you are? Does she know you will always be mine?”

I try to break free, but I am bound, completely at her mercy. I put all my strength into escaping. For the first time, the binds break. I push her off, only to hear the softest voice pulling me back from the brink of despair—Bailey’s.

My eyes shoot open to find her on top of me, her palms cupping my cheeks. Breathing heavily, I scoot up, sweat drenching my chest.

“Shh, I’m here. It was just a nightmare.”

No, it bloody wasn’t.

His chest rises and falls in a deep, steady rhythm of sleep. I can’t believe he’s in my bed.

Only a dim glow from the streetlamps outside lights the room. Maybe if I look at him long enough, I will tire of him, but my forlorn heart tells me I won’t.

“Bailey,” he whispers my name, almost reverently, warming me from the inside.

Gently, I caress his thick brows, then his high cheekbones, and along his sharp jaw. I want to hold on to him, but I can’t. He’s torn, fiercely protective of his demons, and shrouded in walls. The push and pull is our secret language, and we’re terrible at decoding it. We know how to get a rise out of each other and do it shamelessly. I won’t lie and say I am proud of that, but in those moments, he’s mine. For my hopelessly in love heart, that is better than nothing. While it didn’t surprise me that he would retreat after the best night of my life, his coming to my bed willingly the next night did.

When I saw those deep circles lining his eyes, something in me caved—his well-being outweighed mine. All my plans to stay away for just one day to build a wall around my heart came crashing down with one look at him.

I close my eyes, savoring the knowledge of him lying beside me. I don’t know what we are—like he said, we just are. It’s enough for now. Who knows what the future will bring? It’s one reason I wanted him to be my first.

He drags me to his chest, his arm and leg draped over my body, holding me captive in his strength. I don’t make a sound, not wanting to wake him and risk losing that delicious warmth beside me.

Sighing contently, I fall asleep, embracing this magical night. But a low grunt wakes me, and I feel his body thrashing next to me.

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