Page 14 of Stupid Dirty

I nod my agreement, probably looking a little dumbstruck. It seems to satisfy him though, because he closes that eye again and settles down to go back to sleep.

There’s no way I’m getting back to sleep. As soon as he started talking, the memories trickled back in.

Fuck.

He did yell at me. Something about the race, although I can’t remember what. Everyone was staring at me and whispering, and I felt so fucking worthless I wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out.

I remember touching his eye, because somehow I bruised it, and guilt twists in my gut. The bruise is still there, purple and ugly in the soft morning light.

I remember running away from everyone and finding the little quarry, and being mesmerized by the moonlight glittering in the water and the sound of the gravel falling. Then Cade was there, pulling me back from the edge.

And then I told him about all my stupid, humiliating shit. I think I even mentioned my mom, which is not something I’ve ever talked about to a stranger.

All the blood rushes to my face at the thought, although I have no idea if it’s from embarrassment or shame or sadness or all of the above, and there’s a pressure behind my eyes. I force myself to swallow back some bile at the memory of word-vomiting my self-pity on Cade, who probably has enough shit of his own to deal with. I feel like my body is desperately trying to produce tears, but I’m so dehydrated there’s nothing to draw from.

I’m so fucking selfish, just like Dad says.

Getting a lungful of air feels like I’m trying to suck it in through a straw, and when I exhale, it comes out with a sad, choked noise.

Cade’s eyes fly open, and all his lightheartedness is gone. His total focus is on me and I’m pinned by it.

I’m waiting for him to ask me what’s wrong. The words to apologize need to come to me quickly so I can get up and get out of here and stop burdening him with my shit, but something about his stare holds me still. Instead, I focus on trying to pull in a normal breath and stop sounding like a wounded animal when I do it.

Cade sighs, low and soft. “Oh, Silas. I’m sorry, bud. Come here.”

Reaching out for me like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world, Cade wraps his arms around me and pulls my face towards his shoulder. The same hard body that was threatening me yesterday, and then pulling me back from the edge, now seems like something soft that I can burrow into and hide.

I have no idea what to do. I didn’t think guys even hugged like this. He’s not wearing a shirt, and I can feel an expanse of smooth skin under my hands, indescribably warm and soft. No one’s held me since my mom died, and I’m pretty sure I’m as stiff and awkward as a corpse, but he doesn’t seem to care. He just rubs his hand up and down my back and murmurs nonsense in my ear. At some point, my body finds enough water to produce some tears, and now they’re streaming down my face to smear over his chest.

One raw, ugly sob rips its way out of my chest and gets muffled in his neck.

Eventually, I pull myself together. I have no idea where that came from. I never fucking cry like that. I never cry, period. I would feel embarrassed, but after the last twelve hours, I think I’ve actually maxed out my capacity for it.

Leaning back, I put enough distance between us so I can wipe the tears and snot off my face, and Cade lets me go, but he keeps one warm hand on my arm like an anchor. He nods a little as hewatches me, with the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Better?”

I don’t know why, but that makes me snort out a wet, undignified laugh. Which makes him fully smile, and wow.

His smile was always spectacular. No matter what, he could light up the room with it. I could see that, even from miles outside of his social circle. But having it directed at you is something else. Years of rust and stiffness are being carved away from my insides, allowing his warmth to seep in and settle in my bones.

Although his sunshiney face only seems to highlight my own twisted, awkward behavior from the last twelve hours, making me squirm with embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry. That was so weird. I’m being so weird.”

My voice cracks a little, but it’s the first time I feel remotely human since before the moto yesterday.

“Nah, man, don’t push it aside. Ignoring how you feel and letting it build up is how you end up becoming an alcoholic and turning into my dad. Or your dad. Or standing at the edge of a quarry. It’s no good. It’s a whole new fucking millennium. We’re allowed to feel our feelings and shit. Get it out.”

There’s so much sincerity in his eyes I want to believe him. Fuck, I want to believe him.

“Okay. Then… Thank you. For saving me.”

There’s a really long pause, because actually being honest and saying things out loud goes against everything I’ve ever learned. It’s tripping every warning I have. My lips are dry and my throat feels too thick to get words out of. My brain is screaming at me not to say it.

If you say it, that makes it real. That makes you weak. And everyone will know.

But I say it anyway.

“I, uh,” my voice cracks again, and I clear my throat. Cade is still staring at me with the same lightning focus he gets on the track, and it’s enough to push me that last inch. “I think you really might have saved my life.”

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