Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
For a moment, I just stare at her, using the post-sex haze over my brain to suppress reality, and I simply admire her beauty. Even with her face red, her hair a mess, and mascara smeared, she is so fucking beautiful. I could get lost in her. Maybe I already have. She is like a siren, and I’m a stupid sailor heading blindly to my death.
All too soon, the hormonal fog lifts from my mind, and I sober. “Are you still taking the pill I gave you?” I ask when I realize I just came inside of her without protection… again.
“Yes, but I’m almost out, and I obviously didn’t take it for a few days. So, if you’re going to come and randomly fuck me, you might want to use a condom next time.”
“There won’t be a next time.” I pull out of her, and we both wince at the loss. “I think you are enjoying this way too much. This was the last time.” I get off the bed and turn away from her. I don’t want to see her face when I say the next words. “I’m bored with you. Time to find someone else.”
I tuck my now limp dick back into my pants as I exit the room. The door falls shut behind me, and an empty feeling spreads out in my chest. A deep ache forms inside that empty spot, begging to be filled with something I can’t have.
She did this to me. She lied to my face.
I keep reminding myself of these things, forcing myself to head back to my room instead of turning back to hers. I need to stay away from her before she pulls me under completely.
13
ASPEN
If it wasn’t for Brittney bringing me books and food every day, I’m not sure what I would do. I can barely get around with the crutches in my room, so walking around Corium with people knocking into me is out of the question. The bruises on my arm are slowly healing, but the crutches dig into them every time I use them, and since I stopped taking the stronger pain meds, it really fucking hurts.
When Brittney shows up today, I’m smiling. She puts my next set of evening entertainment on the desk and hands me a sandwich, a bag of chips, and an apple.
“You’re smiling. I like it.”
“I’m happy to see you. I feel like I’ve been trapped in this room for weeks, and it’s only been a couple days.”
“No one is keeping you in this room, Aspen. You can go to classes.”
I look down at the floor. “I know, but I’m not ready yet. My leg is just going to make me the center of attention. It’s bad enough everyone knows I left and that I was the only person to survive the helicopter crash.”
Brittney crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed. The bed squeaks with the added weight, and the sound reminds me of what Quinton and I did just yesterday on this bed. Damn. My cheeks heat with the intrusion of thoughts.
Thank god, Brittney can’t read my thoughts.
“Everyone knows what happened. News in this place travels fast. Plus, you can’t hide your leg being in a cast. Eventually, you’re going to have to leave this room.”
The thought of having to step out into that hall makes my stomach churn. With the cast on my leg, I’m nothing but a target for every person I cross paths with.
“I’m not ready, the mere thought of leaving this room…” I don’t finish my sentence because I don’t want to whine to Brittney about my problems.
Before, I could at least move fast through the halls and thought it was annoying when someone bumped into me, but at least it wouldn’t really hurt. Now, more things can go wrong. I know no one can kill me here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t hurt me, bringing me as close to death as possible without actually killing me.
“Have you talked to Quinton? Maybe he can help some?”
A bubble of nervous laughter escapes me. “He’s not going to help me. Last night he showed up and basically told me he’s done with what we have and that he wants nothing else to do with me.”
Brittney’s face contours with anger. “What do you mean he doesn’t want anything to do with you? Like pardon my French, but what the fuck is wrong with that boy?”
I shrug. I don’t have an answer for her. I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I do know the way he made me feel. I’ve never come so hard in my life. It was like an out-of-body experience until it was over, and I was left lying on the bed while he told me he was done with me.
After he left, that euphoric feeling disappeared, and in the wake of it all, it left me feeling used and discarded like trash.