Tell Me Pretty Lies(62)
He collapses onto me, his breathing ragged. His cheek presses against my chest and he’s still halfway off the couch as we both attempt to catch our breath, the weight of what we just did finally creeping in. Eventually, he scoops me up, then flips our positions so I’m lying on top of him. He reaches an arm up to snatch the blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it over us. It’s only big enough to cover our feet up to my lower back, but Thayer is like a furnace beneath me, so it doesn’t matter.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” Yes.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.” No.
To be honest, I don’t know what I’m feeling. So many emotions overwhelm me at once, making it hard to settle on one. If I had to pick an adjective, I’d go with…nervous. I’ve been waiting for this moment for three years, and it was better than anything I’ve ever been able to conjure up in my imagination, but what now? Is this where Thayer turns cold and leaves me again?
But then I feel his finger trace my spine up and down then back again, sending a shiver through me as goosebumps prick my skin. I relax a little, melting into him.
I follow the branch-like design that crawls down his arm with the tips of my fingers. That night was one of the worst in my life—it had to be up there for him, too—so why would he want a permanent reminder? I can’t deny that it’s beautiful. Somehow it makes me feel closer to him, to have this memory, this connection, that no one else can touch.
“Why did you get this?” I finally ask.
Thayer doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings my wrist to his mouth, pressing his lips against the matching mark.
“I’ll walk you home.”
The brief moment of tenderness is gone, his mask back in place, and suddenly, I feel cold. I huff out a bitter laugh, peeling myself away from his warmth. I’m not surprised. I’d be stupid to think this would change anything. I stand, quickly pulling my underwear up my legs.
“Shayne.”
I don’t respond, searching the ground for the rest of my clothes. I throw my t-shirt over my head before shrugging my jacket on.
“Shayne.”
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I glance around the dimly lit space to make sure I’m not forgetting anything when I see my bra. Stuffing it into my jacket pocket, I walk over to where I left my shoes and slip them on.
“Shayne, fucking stop for a minute!”
I finally face him, finding him in his dress pants, his chest heaving, eyes conflicted.
“It’s late. You should probably go check on Holden,” I dismiss him, keeping my tone light in an attempt to appear unaffected.
He frowns, and the crease between his eyes growing deeper is the last thing I see before I walk away.
Shayne
It’s been a week since I handed my virginity to Thayer on a silver platter, and I haven’t seen or heard from him once. I spent my weekend doing homework and helping my mom clean out some of the cluttered bedrooms on the second floor, but I was too distracted to focus on either one. My thoughts vacillated between what happened in the barn and stumbling upon Christian’s secret. I feel guilty keeping it from Thayer, but I promised Christian I wouldn’t say anything. I just don’t know how long I can keep that promise. It doesn’t feel right to keep something like this a secret. I still can’t wrap my mind around it. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never believe it. I guess monsters come in all different forms, even charismatic family men with friendly smiles. Christian’s prickly demeanor makes sense to me now.
When Monday rolled around, Holden acted as if Friday night never happened, and I was happy to play along. Christian avoided me entirely, which wasn’t unexpected. I wanted to talk to him, to make sure he was okay, but the only time I saw him was at lunch in front of everyone, and even then, he left early. Seeing him made me feel slightly better because he didn’t seem to be in pain, and I wondered if that was because he wasn’t hurting, or if he was simply good at hiding it.
Baker was noticeably absent, too. I thought back to their fight in the hall, knowing it’s somehow related. All these pieces to the puzzle, but I can’t seem to figure out how to make them all fit. I don’t even know if they’re from the same puzzle.
“Shayne!” Valen snaps her fingers in front of my face, jerking me from my thoughts.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, focusing my attention on her as we walk to our cars. “What’d you say?”
“What’s up with you?” She narrows her eyes at me. “You’ve been distracted all day.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Valen wiggles her brows. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that sexy stepbrother of yours, would it?”
I roll my eyes. “He’s not my stepbrother.” I feel like I should get it tattooed on my forehead at this point.
“Shayne Elizabeth Courtland, did you fuck him?” Her eyes widen, and she stops short, facing me.
“No!” I snap, looking around to make sure we don’t have an audience. How would she even begin to guess that based off that response? “I mean yes, but no,” I whisper.
Her eyes shift back and forth, confused. “I’m not following.”
“I’ll call you later,” I promise, not wanting to have this conversation here, pulling her in for a hug before heading for my car.