“Why are you scared?” I asked, moving my thumb in circles on the soft skin of his arm.
“I’m not,” he said immediately, letting go of his lip. He broke eye contact and started typing with one hand, and I stared at his profile.
He really was beautiful.
I couldn’t see his birthmark from this angle, just the delicate slope of his nose, the shadows that played in his cheeks and over his jawline. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed, drawing my gaze lower.
“Stop staring at me,” he muttered, hitting a button and raising the phone to his ear. His face was cast in shadows again as the screen went dark, and the flashlight was now aimed at the shelf next to him.
There was a distant trill of a phone ringing, and then a voice. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Reese said, “Hi, another student and myself have accidentally gotten locked in a closet of some sort in the music building. Is there any way someone could come let us out? We’re on the second floor near the men’s bathroom. Yes. Uh-huh. Okay, thank you so much.”
As he spoke, I brought his hand up to my cheek and held it there.
He ended the call, set his phone on the ground, and rested his free hand on his thigh.
Being able to see him and having some light in here chased away any lingering panic.
“Thank you,” I said, staring at him. His eyes searched mine, practically glowing gold in the artificial light. He dropped his gaze to where I was holding his hand against my face, and the darkening flush along his cheekbones made me want to ask him a million questions.
I wanted to press my lips to his cheeks and feel how warm they were.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly. To my surprise, he laughed, although it was less humorous and more baffled. “I really don’t understand you.”
I rubbed my cheek against the softness of his palm. He sucked in a breath and tried to pull his hand away, but I held on tight. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” He cleared his throat. “They said they’re sending someone.” He gave up trying to take his hand back, and when his fingers started to move in tiny strokes, I closed my eyes.
I hoped the person coming to free us tripped into a bottomless pit.
No, that was mean. I just wanted to stay here forever, just like this.
“Dakota—”
He went quiet, and now I needed to know what he’d been about to say.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing, I just—um…” He exhaled a short, sharp breath. “Did you really do this to yourself?” His thumb grazed over the part of the scar that ended at my jawline, a gentle, tentative stroke that became bolder when I didn’t move. He traced the jagged line up my cheek until he got to the bridge of my nose, then back down again.
His touch was featherlight and innocent, but it felt like he was feeling the most intimate parts of me. Parts nobody daredtouch before. My body was coiling with heat, my temperature rising, and now I was breathing hard for a different reason.
“No,” I managed to say.
His fingers stopped moving for a few seconds, and his eyes flashed to mine. Then he did what no one besides Val had ever done.
He believed me.
He nodded and asked, “Who did this to you? What happened?”
I shrugged, ignoring the way my heart was pounding and the heaviness in my chest that was making it hard to breathe.
Nobody believed me. Rumors and whispers and exaggerated stories were accepted over my own words, my own experiences, every single time. Even with Reese, I was pretty sure he’d heard or read things about me, and…and I’d been so afraid that if only bad things came up when he searched my name, he’d think those rumors existed for a reason. He’d think I was as crazy as everyone else did.
And what would I do then?
But that was a question I didn’t need to ask anymore; my fear that he already believed all the rumors had just been punted away in less than a second by him.
In that moment, something heavy I’d been carrying for years turned to dust.
