Page 78 of Paper Hearts

“Why?” I mumble, staring at my hands.

“Because I would have been in jail by now for killing someone.”

My eyes find his in the darkness as he pulls out of the parking lot and toward my house. There’s anger inside Ender. I’ve known it since the day I met him, but he buries it deep down. So far that he lies to himself it’s there at times.

Silence fills the cab of the truck and I fear he’s going to take me home and we won’t have any alone time, but he doesn’t. He pulls into an empty parking lot of the ball fields and parks on the other side of the stadium where the service trucks enter.

“I’m not ready to give you up yet,” he says, turning the engine off and draping his arm across the back of the seat. “It’s taking everything inside me not to pull onto that freeway and take you with me.”

Grinning, I move closer to him, and that’s all it takes for his lips to be on mine. My body is more than ready for him, but my heart is another story. I’m not sure if I trust my heart with someone like him, but I want to and that’s the only explanation I can give you.

My dress is discarded easily, bra, panties next, and I think it’s going to happen. At last he’ll finally have sex with me.

I’m working on Ender’s belt. He’s kissing every inch of my bare skin, his breathing heavy. “Did you bring a condom?” I ask, trying to slow my breathing as my curls fall over my shoulder.

He sweeps them away with a swipe of his hand, his lips trailing over my collarbone. “In my wallet.” Lifting up, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet and hands it to me.

I stare at the black leather in my palm. I’ve never seen his wallet, and the fact that he just handed it to me is crazy. Opening it up as if it’s a bomb, I take in the details of his personal belongings. His license, a gold credit card, and in the center next to more hundred-dollar bills than I’ve probably ever had at one time, is a silver condom wrapper. Just one. Removing it, I hold it in my mouth and then hand his wallet back.

His hungry eyes find mine. “Are you sure about this?”

I nod and open it with my teeth.

“Why do you want it to be me?”

My breath hitches, but I’m able to get out, “I’ve always wanted it to be you.” Taking the rubber from the package, I hold it out. “What do I do? It’s wet.”

His lips brush mine, hard and possessive. “It’s lubricant so it doesn’t dry out,” he tells me, tossing his wallet aside and removing his tie.

His shirt follows and soon after, he lifts up to slide his pants down around his ankles. Though he’s going through the motions, there’s something off about him. As if he doesn’t want to be doing this. Okay, hewantsto. He’s hard, eagerness in his movements, but those sad eyes hold an emotion he’s desperately trying to blink away. He won’t even make eye contact with me as he takes the condom and sheaths himself in the rubber and pulls at the top, as if he’s done this many times. And he probably has.

My heart skips a beat, wishing this was his first time. Straddling him, I sit on his erection, grinding into him but that’s all I do. I don’t try to force the issue.

His hands are on my hips, and he sighs. “I uh…”

My stomach drops. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes find mine in the darkness. “I want to.”

“But…,” I begin, knowing it’s coming.

Raising his hands, he holds my face in his palms. I stare at the cut on his cheek and the eyes drowning in hatred he won’t let me see. His hands are shaking.

I reach up and cover his hands with mine. “Why are you shaking?”

His brow digs deeper, his breathing heavier. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s seconds away from a panic attack. He starts swallowing quickly, sucking in rapid breathes and then his entire body is trembling like his hands.

Tears flood my eyes and I drop my hands to his chest, over his heart. It’s pounding. “Ender, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

He shakes his head frantically. “No.”

“Do you not want to…” I motion between us.

“I…” He sucks in another breath, swallowing hard again. “Fuck. I’m sorry.” His hands fall from my face and he leans his head back against the glass. “I don’t know what the fuck my problem is.”

“Okay.” Tears roll down my cheeks, thinking it’s me he doesn’t want.

Lifting his head, he sighs. “Hads, it’s not you.”

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