Chapter 16 #2
He gives me a look of disapproval and sets the spoon down, but he doesn’t move away. I carefully pick it up. It clatters against the bowl, splashing me.
I curse my trembling hands as they fail me once more.
“Why are you so stubborn?” Jaxon hands me a napkin. “You're too weak to do this on your own. Let me help you.”
My eyes burn with fresh, hot tears.
“I am not weak.” I spit the words like a venomous snake sensing a threat, dabbing at the wet spot on my shirt.
Jaxon turns, his knee bumping into mine. He takes my hand in his, and I tense, waiting for pain to follow. None comes. He holds my hand with a gentleness that makes my chest ache.
“I think you know I didn’t mean it like that. You’re strong as hell, Callie. Sometimes, to your own detriment. But right now, your body is betraying you. Let me ease the burden, just until you’re feeling better.”
Clio's parting words echo in my mind. ‘You're the strongest girl I know. Stronger than even me.’
For years, I held onto those words. I might as well have etched them into my bones. For the longest time, I made being strong my entire identity, and now I don’t know how to exist in the moments when my strength leaves me.
Jaxon’s thumb glides back and forth over my knuckles, and I momentarily forget how to breathe. I’ve never liked being touched, but it feels different when Jaxon touches me. It’s like my body is attuned to him and him alone. It’s beyond all reason or sense.
His gentleness grounds me, and I give myself permission to let go. That’s when I feel the first fissure forming in the wall I've built around my heart. It’s small, barely more than a splinter, but enough to weaken my resolve.
“Ok,” I say on a sigh. “Just this once.”
He picks up the spoon. “We’ll see.”
I let Jaxon feed me the rest of the soup, then settle back into the corner of the sofa. He tucks the blanket around me, his hand sliding down my arm.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
He removes the evidence of my breakfast and gives me a half-hearted smile. “Get some rest while I clean up.”
I nod sleepily, and whatever fight I had left dissipates.
Jaxon
Callie is sleeping contentedly when I return from the kitchen, her soft breaths escaping through slightly parted lips.
Her fever has gone down, and she doesn’t look as pale as she did when I found her.
Careful not to jostle her too much, I scoop her into my arms and carry her down the darkened hallway.
I pause between her room and mine, longing to lay her in my bed.
That would be too dangerous. It’s easily recognizable from my online content. It must’ve been too dark to see much of anything the other night, or surely she would’ve said something.
With a resigned sigh, I transfer the sleeping beauty to her bed, drawing back the blankets and draping them over her body.
After a brief moment of indecision, I press my lips to her forehead and settle on top of the covers on the opposite side of the bed. We’re close enough to touch, but she still feels miles away.
Sometime later, Callie rolls over in her sleep and burrows into me like a contented kitten. Heat radiates off her body, and she’s a bit clammy to the touch, but I don’t have the heart to move her.
She hums and nuzzles her cheek against my chest as she begins to stir. “Mm. You smell good.”
A quiet laugh bubbles out of me. “Hey there, beautiful. How did you sleep?”
She glances up at me through sleepy eyes. “How did I get here?”
“I carried you,” I say matter-of-factly. “You were on the other side at first, but you just couldn’t resist me.”
She rolls her eyes and starts to move away.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t enjoying it. Stay.”
“I feel gross,” she grumbles. “I need to shower. Or maybe a bath. I don’t think standing is a good idea.”
“I think we can manage that. Bubbles or no bubbles?”
“What kind of question is that?” she says with mock indignation. “Bubbles. Always.”
“Stay here. I’ll get your bath ready and come back for you.”
She doesn’t argue with me this time, and it feels like I won a goddamn prize.
Atticus curls up on the bath mat while I run the warm water and pour in a generous amount of her favorite floral-scented bubble bath. I trail back to the bedroom to find Callie sitting on the edge of the bed, typing out a text on her phone.
“The bath is almost ready.”
“Ok. Thanks.” She sets her phone on the nightstand. “I was just postponing the double date with Mo.”
An overwhelming sense of relief washes over me, and it takes all of my self-restraint not to fist pump the air. With any luck, they won’t bother rescheduling.
I step closer and lift her into my arms.
“I can walk, Jax.”
“Why walk when you can ride?” I wink.
I deposit her beside the tub and lift the hem of her shirt.
She grips my hands. “I can do it.”
“You could barely hold a spoon a few hours ago. Arms up.”
Her eyes turn pleading. “I can’t.”
“Hey.” There’s a tightness in my chest as I cup her cheek. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
She leans into my touch; it’s so subtle I’m not sure she realizes she’s doing it. Tentatively, she whispers, “I have scars.”
My mind travels back in time to a brief conversation years ago.
“I always wanted a cat.” A ragged breath escapes her. “My parents… they didn’t allow pets.”
I can’t see her face, but I’m attuned to each subtle shift in her voice as she speaks. My stomach sinks at the sudden realization. “They hurt you.”
“Yes.”
She didn’t have to say anything else for me to know she’d been abused. Now this. They’d better pray I never meet them in a dark alley.
I slide my thumb along her cheekbone. “That doesn’t bother me.”
“It’s just… they’re not pretty.”
“You’re beautiful, Callie. Scars or no scars. Nothing will ever change that.”
“Could you maybe… close your eyes?”
She’s setting a boundary, and I have to respect that, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. I want to see all of her, scars and all, if only so I can prove to her that she’s not as damaged as she thinks she is.
I close my eyes and grip the hem of her shirt again. “Arms up. I promise I’m not looking.”
“Ok.”
I lift the shirt over her head and toss it somewhere to the side.
“I can do the rest,” she murmurs.
“When you’re ready, take my hand, and I’ll help you into the tub. I don’t want you to slip and fall.”
Fabric rustles as she undresses the rest of the way, and it’s a struggle not to picture her standing naked less than two feet from me.
Her hand slides into my upturned palm. Once she’s fully submerged, she says. “Ok. You can look now.”
Goddamn. Maybe I shouldn’t have insisted on helping. She’s covered by a mass of bubbles, but that doesn’t stop me from getting a raging fucking hard-on.
I squat by the side of the tub to hide the inconvenient boner. “Do you need help? I can wash your hair for you.”
She scoops up some of the bubbles and playfully blows them at me. “Go away.”
I sweep my finger through them and dot the tip of her nose. She smiles and wipes them away.
“Call me when you’re ready to get out.”
I step out into the hallway and slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor, then I pull out my phone and tap over to the Pleasure Peak app. She hasn’t been back since our last conversation weeks ago. If I’m honest with myself, now that I have Callie here with me, it’s lost all of its allure.
The high I was chasing online is nothing compared to the feeling of being around Callie. She’s more potent than a strong shot of whiskey. In terms of vices, Callie Cooper might be the most dangerous one.
Almost an hour passes before I hear the muffled sound of her calling my name. I push open the door with my eyes pinched shut.
“Don’t look,” she says. “The bubbles are gone.”
“You’re gonna have to help me out here, Callie baby. I can’t see shit to find the towel.”
“Take two steps forward. Good. Ok, now reach out your hand and shuffle to the side.”
My fingers wrap around the soft fabric, and I tug it off the hook. “Now what?”
“Take three steps forward. One more. Right there. Now give me your hand.”
It’s a strange feeling being on the other side of someone giving instructions. Is this how Callie felt all those times I talked her through her orgasms? Fuck. I shouldn’t be thinking about that while she’s naked and vulnerable.
I hold out my hand, and her wet palm slides against it. The water sloshes in the tub, then she takes the towel. “Ok. All good.”
My eyes rake over her lush body from head to toe. Her skin is glistening, and a few stray bubbles cling to her face and arms. Her hair is damp, as if she washed it a while ago and let it air-dry.
She clutches the towel to her chest. “Do you mind handing me the robe?”
I clear my throat and turn, plucking her robe off the back of the door and holding it open for her.
She slips into it with ease. “Thanks.”
She squeals as I unceremoniously scoop her into my arms, careful to keep my hands from touching bare skin.
“A girl could get used to this,” she says.
God, I hope she does.
Over the next two days, my family takes turns bringing over food, and they check in often to make sure we don't need anything. Knowing how reluctant she is to accept help, I play the role of mediator so she’s not too overwhelmed by their presence.
I’m at her side without fail and, for three nights, I don’t have any nightmares; in fact, I don’t dream at all. Callie soothes me. I don't know how she does it, but there’s no way I can let her go now.
Callie returns from another shower, wrapped in a plush robe with a towel around her head. I wonder if she noticed I bought the extra-large fluffy towels specifically for her. There’s more color in her cheeks today, and the dark circles have faded.
“Thanks for staying with me, but you can go on about your day. I'm feeling much better.”
The words fall from her lips, and I’m left with a sharp pain. I’ve been dreading the day she’d send me away.
“Can’t.” I stroke my hand along Atticus’s thick coat, eliciting a loud purr. “I'm trapped. It would be a crime to move him. Punishable by death, or so I'm told.”
Callie smiles and scratches under his chin.
I open my arm and beckon her to me. “Come here.”
She looks at me like I have three heads. “I don’t cuddle.”
“That’s not what you said the other night.”
“I was asleep, and I had the flu. I can’t be blamed for what happened when I was delirious."
“Ouch. That hurts.” I clutch my chest. “I’ve seen you puking into my favorite popcorn bowl. Movie nights will never be the same again. I think I’ve earned myself another cuddle after everything you put me through.”
She reluctantly settles against my side, stroking her hand along Atticus’s soft fur. “You’re really dramatic sometimes, you know that?”
“But it got you to cuddle with me, didn’t it?”
She swats playfully at my chest. “Just this once.”
Her hand stays there, tracing absent circles through my shirt.
I’m caught up in indecision. I need to find a way to keep Callie with me.
I’ve tried for years to stop the nightmares, and nothing has worked until now.
She’s become essential to me, and she doesn’t even know it.
I need her, as sure as the Earth needs the sun.