Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“And I already had a certain reputation. Cold. Frigid. Too uptight. So I just laid there and took it—I wasn’t fucking him; I was fucking my reputation, if that makes sense. And…and when he was finished…” She starts hiccupping, crying and upset. “I said my head hurt because I wanted him gone. So he gave me some painkillers.”
“He used you,” I repeat.
She licks her lips, dropping her gaze to the floor. “Did he, though? Because I came back for the drugs even when he shoved that night in my face over and over again. Maybe it was my way of punishing myself, showing myself just how far I’d spiraled. Every time he’d stop in my room to give me drugs—which was weekly—he’d offer more. He wasn’t subtle about it, either. He’d touch me sometimes in an inappropriate way. But my love for drugs always won the battle against my hatred toward him. I know it’s not some great trauma, that I’m being silly—”
“You’re not being silly. You gave your virginity to someone who didn’t deserve it. It’s like…it’s like donating to a charity for people who you find out were drowning kittens…or something.”
The grief that impales my heart threatens to drown it with sorrow.
My out-of-character awkwardness makes her snort out a laugh. “The problem wasn’t him.” Her stare swings and our eyes lock together. “The problem is he wasn’t you.”
I reach to grab her waist and she hops between the center console. She is on top of me and we’re hugging and my face is in her hair, and for a fraction of a second, I can breathe deep and clean and feel like myself again.
I rub her back. Kiss her tears away.
“Can we just…make our seconds count?” she asks, lips shuddering against my skin.
“Second dance. Second time making love. Second everything.”
I rear my head back, so she can see me. “The second time is more important. First times are overrated. They’re often just mistakes.”
“What?” She wipes her eyes with the sleeve of the plaid shirt, confused.
“Thalia didn’t count. Padlock didn’t count. Our first times were diversions. Not the real deal.”
“It’s Payden.”
“Still not a real name,” I say tonelessly. “Let’s have a do-over. This will be our first time. Nothing else counts.”
“It doesn’t work that way.” She shakes her head sadly.
“Says who?” I buck, giving her my disarming smirk. “There are no universal rules here. One of the best parts about being in our own minds is we get to make the rules.”
And as I lead her out of the car, I internally bleed to death because I’m starting to see that Bailey’s wounds are much more than skin-deep.
She’d been hurt and betrayed by her peers. Used by other students. Pressured by her family, her friends.
Her troubles are not a phase. They’re distractions.
And unless she treats them…they’ll destroy her.
CHAPTER 28
Bailey
Lev’s hand is sweaty and rough against my palm as he leads me to our huge canvas bed, still shirtless.
He doesn’t even notice that I cleaned it. I’ve been coming here ever since my parents loosened my leash.
Feeding our doves, tending to our little corner of the world. But it’s dark, and we’re desperate. The entire world could burst into flames and we probably wouldn’t even notice.
My heart is pounding in my ears. I’m glad I didn’t tell him the entire story. How I lost so much more than my virginity to Payden—I lost my trust in men too.
“Hey, you. Eyes on me. Remember where you are.” Lev pulls me out of the thick fog of misery I’m surrounded by, giving my hand a squeeze. He laces his fingers through mine and plays with them. “Let’s rewrite our past, Bailey.”
He takes his phone out and starts browsing through his music app.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’ve always wanted to dance with you to this song.” He tosses his phone onto the canvas and opens his arms for me to walk into them. And in I walk as “It Ends Tonight” by All-American Rejects sounds off his phone.
The song is so final, so sad, I try not to read into it, but it’s hard not to.
Tears prickle my eyes. I don’t want us to end, but I also don’t know how to save us.
I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, getting lost in the lyrics.
Our hearts are pressed together. Our souls lacing into one another seamlessly, like two cats’ tails.
I’m glad that I’m sober to be present enough for this moment. When the song ends, I wait a few more seconds, just standing there, and Lev allows me this time to gather my thoughts.
Finally, he speaks. “We don’t have to do anything you don—”
Pressing my finger against his lips, I shake my head. “I’ve never wanted anything in my life like I want this.”
“Are you the real Bailey?” he chokes out. “The one I fell in love with?”