Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(30)



“I may be intense, but I’m not mean.”

“Well, I’m not a slut.”

“I’m not a g*y bashing ass**le.”

“So we’re all clear?”

He laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.”

I inhale a deep breath, then exhale, preparing to do something I don’t do very often. Apologize. If I wasn’t so stubborn, I might even admit that my judgmental behavior this week was completely mortifying and he had every right in the world to be angry with me for being so ignorant. Instead, I keep the apology short and sweet.

“I’m sorry, Holder,” I say quietly

He sighs heavily. “I know, Sky. I know.”

And we sit like this in complete silence for what seems like forever but also doesn’t feel like near long enough. It’s getting late and I’m afraid he’s about to say he needs to leave because there’s nothing else to say, but I don’t want him to. It feels right, being here with him now. I don’t know why, but it just does.

“I need to ask you something,” he says, finally breaking the silence. I don’t respond, because it doesn’t feel like his statement is waiting for a response. He’s just taking one of his moments to prepare whatever it is he wants to ask me. He takes a breath, then rolls over onto his side to face me. He tucks his elbow under his head and I can feel him looking at me, but I keep staring at the stars. He’s way too close for me to look at him right now, and by the way my heart is already pounding against my chest, I’m afraid moving any closer will physically kill me. It doesn’t seem possible that lust can cause a heart to take this much of a beating. It’s worse than running.

“Why were you letting Grayson do what he was doing to you in the parking lot?”

I want to crawl under my covers and hide. I was hoping this wouldn’t come up. “I already told you. He’s not my boyfriend and he’s not the one who gave me the black eye.”

“I’m not asking because of any of that. I’m asking because I saw how you reacted. You were irritated with him. You even looked a little bored. I just want to know why you allow him to do those things if you clearly don’t want him touching you.”

His words throw me for a loop and I’m suddenly feeling claustrophobic and sweaty. I don’t feel comfortable talking about this. It makes me uneasy how he reads me so well, yet I can’t read him for anything.

“My lack of interest was that obvious?” I ask.

“Yep. And from fifty yards away. I’m just surprised he didn’t take the hint.”

This time I turn to face him without thinking, and tuck my elbow under my head. “I know, right? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve turned him down but he just doesn’t stop. It’s really pathetic. And unattractive.”

“Then why do you let him do it?” he says, eyeing me sharply. We’re in a compromising position right now, facing each other on the same bed. The way he’s staring at me and dropping his eyes to my lips prompts me to roll onto my back again. I don’t know if he feels the same, but he rolls onto his back, too.

“It’s complicated.”

“You don’t have to explain,” he says. “I was just curious. It’s really not my business.”

I tuck my hands behind my head and look up at the stars that I’ve counted more times than I can count. I’ve been in this bed with Holder longer than I’ve probably been in this bed with any boy, and it occurs to me that I haven’t felt the need to count a single star.

“Have you ever had a serious girlfriend?”

“Yep,” he says. “But I hope you aren’t about to ask for details, because I don’t go there.”

I shake my head. “That’s not why I’m asking.” I pause for a few seconds, wanting to word things the right way. “When you kissed her, what did you feel?”

He pauses for a moment, probably thinking this is a trick question. “You want honesty, right?” he asks.

“That’s all I ever want.”

I can see him smile out of the corner of my eyes. “Alright then. I guess I felt…horny.”

I try to appear unaffected, hearing that word come out of his mouth, but...wow. I cross my legs, hoping it’ll help minimize the hot flashes racing through me. “So you get the butterflies and the sweaty palms and the rapid heartbeat and all that?”

He shrugs. “Yeah. Not with every girl I’ve been with, but most of them.”

I angle my head in his direction, trying not to analyze the way that sentence came out. He turns his head toward me and grins.

“There weren’t that many.” He smiles and his dimple is even cuter close up. For a moment, I get lost in it. “What’s your point?”

I bring my eyes back to his, briefly, then face the ceiling again. “My point is that I don’t. I don’t feel any of that. When I make out with guys, I don’t feel anything at all. Just numbness. So sometimes I let Grayson do what he does to me, not because I enjoy it, but because I like not feeling anything at all.” He doesn’t respond and his silence makes me uncomfortable. I can’t help but wonder if he’s mentally labeling me as crazy. “I know it doesn’t make sense, and no, I’m not a lesbian. I’ve just never been attracted to anyone before you and I don’t know why.”

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