Hopeless (Hopeless #1)(66)
But how do I know? How do I know if I’ve never done this before?
My lips begin to tremble when he positions himself between my legs again. I try to think of something to take away the fear, so I visualize the sky and the stars and how beautiful it all is, attempting to ease my panic. If I remind myself that the sky is beautiful no matter what, I can think about that and forget how ugly this is. I don’t want to open my eyes, so I just count silently inside my head. I visualize the stars above my bed and I start from the bottom of the cluster, working my way up.
One, two, three…
I count and I count and I count.
Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…
I hold my breath and focus, focus, focus on the stars.
Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…
I want him to be done already. I just want him off of me.
Seventy-one, seventy-two, seventy-
“Dammit, Sky!” Holder yells. He’s pulling my arm away from my eyes. I don’t want him to make me look, so I hold my arm tighter against my face so everything will stay dark and I can keep silently counting.
All of the sudden, my back is being lifted up in the air and I’m not against the pillow anymore. My arms are limp and his are wrapped tightly around me, but I can’t move. My arms are too weak and I’m sobbing too hard. I’m crying so hard and he’s moving me and I don’t know why so I open my eyes. I’m going back and forth and back and forth and for a second, I panic and squeeze my eyes shut, thinking he’s not finished. But I can feel the covers around me and his arm is squeezing my back and he’s soothing my hair with his hand, whispering in my ear.
“Baby, it’s okay.” He’s pressing his lips into my hair, rocking me back and forth with him. I open my eyes again and tears are clouding my vision. “I’m sorry, Sky. I’m so sorry.”
He’s kissing the side of my head over and over while he rocks me, telling me he’s sorry. He’s apologizing for something. Something he wants me to forgive him for this time.
He pulls back and sees that my eyes are open. His eyes are red but I don’t see any tears. He’s shaking though. Or maybe it’s me who’s shaking. I think we’re both shaking.
He’s looking into my eyes, searching for something. Searching for me. I begin to relax in his arms, because when his arms are wrapped around me, I don’t feel like I’m falling off the edge of the earth. “What happened?” I ask him. I don’t understand where this is coming from.
He shakes his head, his eyes full of sorrow and fear and regret. “I don’t know. You just started counting and crying and shaking and I kept trying to get you to stop, Sky. You wouldn’t stop. You were terrified. What did I do? Tell me baby, because I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry. What the f**k did I do?”
I just shake my head because I don’t have an answer.
He grimaces and drops his forehead to mine. “I’m so sorry. I never should have let it go that far. I don’t know what the hell just happened, but you’re not ready yet, okay?”
I’m not ready yet?
“So we didn’t…we didn’t have sex?”
His hands loosen around me and I can feel his whole demeanor shift. The look in his eyes is nothing but loss and defeat. His eyebrows draw apart and he frowns, cupping my cheeks. “Where’d you go, Sky?”
I shake my head, confused. “I’m right here. I’m listening.”
“No, I mean earlier. Where’d you go? You weren’t here with me because no, nothing happened. I could see on your face that something was wrong, so I didn’t do it. But now you need to think long and hard about where you were inside that head of yours, because you were panicked. You were hysterical and I need to know what it was that took you there so I can make sure you never go back.”
He kisses me on the forehead and releases his hold from around my back. He stands up and pulls his jeans on, then picks up my dress. He shakes it out, then flips it over until it slides down his hands, then he walks toward me and puts it on over my head. He lifts my arms and helps me slide them into the dress, then he pulls it down over my waist, covering me. “I’ll go get you some water. I’ll be right back.” He kisses me tentatively on the lips, almost as if he’s scared to touch me again. After he walks out of the room, I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes.
I have no idea what just happened, but the fear of losing him because of it is a valid one. I just took one of the most intimate things imaginable, and I turned it into a disaster. I made him feel worthless, like he did something wrong and now he feels bad for me because of it. He probably wants me to leave, and I don’t blame him. I don’t blame him a bit. I want to run away from me, too.
I throw the covers off and stand up, then pull my dress down. I don’t even bother looking for my underwear. I need to find the bathroom and get myself together so he can take me home. This is twice this weekend that I’ve been deduced to tears and I don’t even know why—and twice that he’s had to save me. I’m not doing it to him again.
When I pass the stairs looking for the restroom, I glance down over the railing into the kitchen. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on the bar and his face buried in his hands. He’s just standing there, looking miserable and upset. I can’t watch him anymore, so I open the first door to my right, assuming it’s the bathroom.