Page 8 of Love and Defects 1
Graham combed his fingers through my hair. My head was resting against his abs, and he was slouched against the wall, a bunch of pillows piled up behind him. My eyelids were drooping, but I was trying to keep them open to savor this as long as possible. Hell, I was practically on the verge of purring.
“Stop fighting it,” Graham whispered. “You haven’t been sleeping well. You need to get some rest.”
I sighed. “Don’t want to sleep yet,” I mumbled, but my eyes fell shut. God, it was so hard to stay awake after an anxiety attack. And Graham was so warm and comfortable and smelled so good…
“You’re safe, and I’m here,” Graham promised. “Just get some sleep, Sterling.”
The last thing I was aware of was him chuckling at something in the movie and his fingers still combing through my hair, his nails lightly scratching my scalp.
The light was blinding. My eyeballs were screaming in pain, but for some reason, I couldn’t shut them. My retinas were burning, desperately in need of moisture and darkness.
“Pretty boy,” he whispered, his voice bouncing off the walls and seeming to echo in my mind. “Such a pretty boy, aren’t you, Sterling? Are you going to be good for Daddy? He’s missed you.”
“No,” I mumbled. Fear sliced through my veins. I tried to will my legs to move or my head to turn so I could find him, but I couldn’t do anything. “I’m an adult. You don’t want me anymore.”
“Oh, but I do, pretty boy. We have so many years to make up for, Sterling. I’ve missed you so much.”
Vomit rose in my throat, and I gagged, trying to swallow it back down. My heart was racing. Sweat beaded along my skin, making my clothes stick to me. I wanted to run, but my body wouldn’t move. Why wouldn’t my body move?
“Sterling…” he murmured, suddenly right in my ear.
“Go away,” I pleaded. I couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t I breathe? What the fuck was sitting on my chest?
“Sterling…” he said in my ear again, this time louder. I whimpered, a sob rising in my throat. This couldn’t be happening again.
“Sterling!” he suddenly shouted.
I jerked awake, my eyes snapping open. The room was dark, just how I preferred it. Graham wasn’t touching me, but he was close. I could feel his proximity to me. His heat emanated onto me, burning me in the best way possible.
A shiver raced down my spine as I sucked in desperate lungfuls of air. Finally, I turned my head, looking at Graham. He was laying beside me, his eyes intent on my features. I closed my eyes again, shivers suddenly wracking my body. My teeth began to chatter. I was hot, but I felt so cold on the inside.
It’d felt so fucking real.
“Breathe,” Graham whispered. “Just focus on breathing, Sterling. You’re safe. Everything is okay. He can’t touch you anymore.”
Logically, I knew that. He was still in prison for what he’d done to me and numerous other kids who’d eventually succumbed to their injuries and been buried in his backyard. He’d even had a whole small graveyard for them all, which had helped put him behind bars for even longer.
But trying to tell that to the fear pulsing through me, choking me, was near impossible.
I scooted closer to Graham, and when I pressed my body fully to his, he immediately wrapped me up in his arms, holding me tightly. His fingers began that soothing, rhythmic combing through my hair. We lay like that for what had to be at least an hour. It took a while for my teeth to stop chattering and even longer for my body to stop shaking. Eventually, the fear dissipated, and I relaxed in Graham’s arms.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “He can never touch you again, Sterling. Never. Because I’ll never let him come near you again.”
I nodded. “I know,” I rasped. I pressed a kiss to his throat, and he shivered, drawing in a deep, shaky breath at the small, intimate touch. “Thank you for being here.”
He tightened his hold on me, his actions saying everything he didn’t in words.
Always.
Chapter Four
Graham
Waking up with Sterling in my arms immediately brightened my day. If I got to wake up like this every morning, I could definitely become a morning person. The alarm would have to go though. Alarms automatically dimmed my mood a bit. There was just something about waking up to an annoying blaring sound that automatically made me grumpy.
“Turn it off,” Sterling muttered, rolling away from me and shoving his head beneath a pillow.
I quickly grabbed my phone and cut off the alarm before dropping it back onto the nightstand and rubbing my gritty eyes. Fuck, I was tired, but it was Saturday morning, which meant I had hockey practice. Every Saturday, I wondered if hockey was worth getting up at this stupid hour—six A.M.—but normally by the time I was done with warm-ups, I remembered why I was okay with six A.M. hockey practice on a Saturday.
