Page 54 of Make Me Bleed
It’s not real.
It’ll never be real again.
But I can pretend.
Just for a little while.
“Come home with me,” I say before I can think twice about it, picking him back up and holding him against me.
“What?” he says, eyes widening, and he’s so close to me, I can make out the deepening of his pupils, even in the darkness.
“You’re drunk,” I state.
“No shit, Peris.”
“So, come home with me,” I say again, heart in my throat at the prospect of him turning me down. And he could so easily… just like that.
It would be as easy as breathing for him to hurt me all over again.
I release my hold on him and let him slide down my body slowly. Abel hisses at the loss of contact, but my eyes never leave his, and he doesn’t look away either. It’s heady. And intense.
When his feet hit the gravelly ground, he stumbles slightly but manages to right himself easily enough with only one hand gripping my bicep. I grab onto his elbow and wrap my fingers around the bone, causing his breath to stutter.
“So, what’s it gonna be, Silver?”
His lips quirk into a small smile, and that signature eyebrow flicks up. “Silver, huh?”
My own lips twitch. “Yeah.”
He seems to roll my answer over on his tongue for a few moments before coming to a conclusion. “Well, all right, Baxter. Take me home and do dirty, filthy things to me.” And then, he smiles so fucking wide and bright, my stomach flip flops right inside my guts, making me lose my breath, and I’m grateful for the wall at my back because without it, I probably would’ve fallen backward.
With a confidence I don’t feel, I push away from the brick and reach up to brush my fingers along Abel’s roughened cheek. “You’ve got the wrong idea, runt. I’m not bringing you home to fuck you,” I whisper as I lean down. My nose brushes against his, and my chest constricts, causing a bolt of pain to lance through me.
Abel’s breaths are coming in short, hot bursts that fan over my face, and the tequila leaking from his pores tells me all I need to know.
I shouldn’t have fucked with him while he was this drunk. But I’m always full of regrets with him anyway.
“Then, what do you plan on doing with me?”
“Put you to bed.”
His brows tug together. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“But you just—we just…” he trails off, and I barely bite off my sigh. “I’m confused,” he mumbles, and this time, it makes its way out.
It’s so weird being the sober one.
“Come on,” I order him with a grip on his arm as I drag us out of the alleyway. After depositing Abel on a short, concrete wall, I pull my phone out of my pocket and order us a ride back to my place.
When that’s done, I can’t help pulling up my call log and noting the number Luke called me from. It’s the same I’ve always had missed calls from, and I shouldn’t have fucking answered…
“You’ve got that look on your face again,” Abel says conversationally, and I shove my phone back in my pocket, shuttering my face.
“What look?” I say as I peek over at him. He sways slightly in place, arms crossed over his chest to ward off the cold.
“Thatone,” he accuses, pointing his finger in my general direction, and I roll my eyes.
