Instead, he strokes my back with his thumb while he keeps holding me.
Davis Remington.
My secret teenage crush.
Myshamefulsecret teenage crush.
Holding my world together with a hug while giving me a safe space away from the horror of what happened to my house today at the hands of another man I never should’ve trusted.
I shouldn’t trust Davis.
But old habits die hard. All it takes is a little kindness, and I fold.
Like right now.
When I close my eyes and breathe in his scent again.
Any minute now, he’ll let go.
But he hasn’t yet.
So I keep breathing in his scent.
Keep soaking in the warmth and strength and comfort from his arms around me. Feel the distant beat of his heart as my head droops against his chest.
Even if it’s fake, even if he hurts me later, right now, I feel safe.
I’ve learned a lot about living forright now.
“I’ll get you the journal,” I whisper.
“I’ll get it.”
“Pop doesn’t like you.”
“Deserve that.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.” He bends his head over mine, scratching his beard into my hair, and is he?—
Is Davis kissing my head?
Is he?
Or isn’t he?
I should be able to tell, shouldn’t I?
My voice is higher than it should be when I speak again. “What’s complicated about it?”
“Your family thinks they know what’s best for you, but they can’t honor your own wishes for how you want to live your life.”
“What does that have to do with Pop?”
“He and I have a disagreement about what’s best for someone. Neither’s right. Neither’s wrong. And neither of us will fully honor the other’s wishes.”
“How does that even work?”
