“Seba.”
He’s my undoing.
Cum soaks the fabric of his shorts at the same time I erupt in mine. A flood of shame crashes over me, cutting through the high of my orgasm before I can even come down.
My lips brush his ear. “Get out.”
He hesitates, blinking as he returns to himself. I don’t want to look at him like this— bathed in dim light and darkness, bleary with ecstasy and gazing at me with something bordering on vulnerability.
It’s agony how beautiful he is.
That soft look evaporates. His jaw flexes. He slides out from under me, off the bed and toward the bathroom. Then pauses in the doorway and flicks the light switch, revealing the mess I made of him. Purple and red decorate his thighs and hips while a wet stain darkens his shorts.
I grit my teeth. “Never again.”
Those eyes burn into me, silently whispering,Another lie.
“Goodnight, Sebastian.”
The bathroom door closes.
I collapse onto my back, staring at the ceiling.
This isn’t over. Not even close. I condemned myself the second my mouth touched him.
The Fall
Genesis 3:7-8 King James Version
“And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together, and made themselves aprons. And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden.”
Twenty-Eight
CADE
Another episodeof some house remodel show starts. Someone coughs from behind the glass of the check-in desk. I gnaw on the side of my thumb, the nail bitten to the quick and oozing blood. I wipe it off on my jeans— too hot for June but they were the only clean pants I could find.
The last time I sat in one of these antiseptic-smelling waiting rooms was before school a year ago to get a physical. Unfortunately, they gave Dad a referral for a specialist who wouldn’t see me until I turned eighteen. Because nothing says, ‘Happy Birthday,” like going to the doctor. I justhadto open my dumbass mouth. Lesson learned: doctors don’t understand dark humor or sarcasm.
A hand lands on my knee. I’ve been bouncing it. I glance at Dad sitting in the chair beside me.
“It’s alright, Bud.”
I slouch and cross my arms over my chest.Nowhe wants to notice the warning signs. Not when I was in the thick of it. Not when I needed help. When I needed my dad.
Me? Resentful? Nah, not at all.
“You didn’t have to come.”
He sighs. He’s only here because he didn’t trust me to show up on my own.
“Cade?” a feminine voice chirps. If I stare at the fish tank across from me, maybe some other Cade will follow the nurse back.
Dad squeezes my shoulder. “Want me to go with you?”
“No.”
He clears his throat. “I’ll be here.”
