Page 127 of Broken Pieces

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I kiss her lips, tasting the warmth, drawing it out like I never want it to end.

When I finally pull out, the abrupt absence is a cold shock, already missing the slick warmth and rhythmic pressure of her wrapped around my cock.

I take the condom off, tie it in a knot, and throw it in the trash can in the bathroom, not bothering to flip on the light.

I should leave it there, leave her.

That’s what I always do.

Fuck, finish, gone. No lingering. No clingy chicks wanting more. No room for softness.

But my feet don’t take me toward the door.

They take me back to the bed.

She shifts slightly, eyes barely open, lids heavy.

I slide in beside her, pulling her close without thinking.

Skylar snuggles against me, like she belongs. She’s warm and soft and fucking perfect in my arms.

And I just lay there.

Listening to her breathing, catching the rhythm of her chest rise and fall against mine. Her skin is warm, her legs tangled with mine, her hair brushing against my neck, and something about it feels almost... dangerous.

Not because it’s wrong.

But because it hits too fucking real.

This isn’t what I do. I don’t stay or hold girls afterwards. But I can’t bring myself to let go of her.

I watch the ceiling for a while, my hand drifting up and down her spine, trying not to think too hard, or name the thing clawing at my ribs.

But it’s there… loud and fucking obvious.

I’m falling for her.

For Skylar.

And that’s the one thing I told myself I’d never do.

Love makes you soft.

It makes you rely on someone.

And when you rely on someone, they break you. They leave. They fucking destroy every part of you that you’ve worked so hard to protect. I’ve already lived through that shit. I swore I’d let no one get that close again.

But she’s already there.

Wrapped up in my arms.

Under my skin.

All over my fucking heart.

And, fuck me—I don’t know how to stop it or really… if I want to.

Chapter Twenty

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