“I don’t really care what you two used to be, if she’s not comfortable with you touching her inthismoment, you need to take your fucking hands off her. I’m not going to ask you again.” His gaze darts to where Cam still holds me.
“Cam, man. If Willow doesn’t want you to touch her just take a fucking step back,” Archer says, entering the conversation as he stands beside me.
Zander rises next to him, and when I’m surrounded by the three men, Cam finally removes his hands.
“Willow,” he says, brown eyes soft with sadness. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t think...”
Guilt rushes over me, because Cam isn’t like Parker, and he didn’t mean any harm. He wasn’t lying when he said we were familiar with each other, and though I have no doubt his intentions with me are more than friendly, the hug just now was nothing but a greeting.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, spinning on my heel and stumbling away from the bonfire.
CHAPTER 19
WESTON
“Let me, please,” I plead when Archer moves to go after Willow, who is now disappearing into the darkness of the beach beyond the fire’s light.
The guy who touched her attempts to go after her too, but Zander plants a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him back despite his effort to shake out of it. I level both twins with a look I hope conveys my sincerity, a message that I have knowledge they don’t. I understand Willow’s reaction, and I’m most equipped to help her right now.
I wouldn’t call Archer’s expression trusting, with the way his jaw ticks, and apprehension flashes in his eyes as the light of the bonfire flickers over his face, but he nods.
I stalk into the night, barely able to make out Willow’s silhouette ahead of me as she walks along the beach before stopping and throwing herself down onto the sand. I jog to catch up to her, coming to a stop and squatting in front of where she sits with her knees pulled to her chest and her head dropped on top of them.
“Wills,” I say softly.
She sniffles, curling in on herself further—hiding from me.
“I can leave if you want me to, but I’d like to sit here with you—if that’s okay.” When she nods, I add, “Can I hold your hand?”
She nods again, and I gently place my palm over her hand on her knee, curling my fingers under hers and squeezing four times. The same gesture she gave me last week.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, sitting down in front of her and crossing my legs. “You’re safe.”
“I don’t know why I reacted like that. I don’t know what happened to me,” she murmurs, the broken sound of her voice clawing at my flesh like the teeth of a rake.
“I think that was the first time you were touched since... The first time you were touched without consent or by someone other than your family. Even a casual, innocent embrace like a hug can feel overwhelming, can lead to a trauma response. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She finally lifts her head, and though I can barely make out her features in the darkness, the moon illuminates her face enough for me to note the tears swimming in her eyes.
“That wasn’t... that wasn’t him was it?” I ask. “I assume not, I don’t think your parents would’ve let him within a mile of this beach if it were.”
She snorts a wretched laugh, throat full of emotion. “No, that’s not him. Camden is my high-school boyfriend. The hug wasn’t out of line. I’ve hugged him in the years since our breakup, when we’ve seen each other briefly during the holidays or on spring break. We are... familiar.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head, tightening my hold on her hand. “Your body language told him everything he needed to know. It was clear to me. Clear to your cousins. You weren’t comfortable, and he didn’t let go. You had every right to walk away from an encounter that made you feel unsafe. You don’t owe him anything.”
“Sure.” She nods. “But how fucking broken does that make me? How fucked up am I that I can’t get through an awkward interaction with my ex without a complete fucking break down? I froze, Weston. I was paralyzed, and I just let him...” She wipes a shaking hand over her cheeks as tears fall again. “He ruined me. Parkerruinedme.” Willow’s eyes land on me, and the raw anguish swirling within them cuts me to my core. “What if I’m damaged beyond repair? What if I can’t handle ever be touched again?”
With that, her face falls into her knees as a sob racks her body.
I hush her, crawling around her body so that her back faces me. “I’m going to touch you, okay, Willow? I need you to shake your head or tell me if you want me to stop.”
I move slowly to avoid causing her distress, but I think she needs to be held right now, even if she’s not capable of voicing it. I grasp both of her shoulders, gently tugging her against my chest, tucking her head beneath my chin, and holding her arms with my own, swaying us side to side.
I sit like that for a while, allowing her to cry in comfortable silence. It’s the way my mom used to hold me late at night after my father had drunk himself to sleep. She’d hush me into silence for fear my tears would wake up and bring his wrath upon us again.
“Can I tell you a truth?” I whisper against the side of her head after her crying has ceased.
“Yes,” she murmurs, a broken rasp accenting her soft voice.
