21. But I’m a Nice Guy #2
As the movie progressed, I let him move a little closer, and I eventually did snuggle into Isaac’s side. I was a little tense, but man, it felt good when he dropped that arm around my waist and pulled me in a little closer.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been hugged, let alone held. Except that I did know. It had been months, but Carter had been the last person I’d snuggled up with. Kinda. Clearly, Carter was over whatever weird thing we’d rekindled—since he’d completely ghosted me.
As Isaac pulled me closer, I tried not to think about Carter at all. I didn’t realize how badly I’d needed it. Human contact. So in a moment of self-preservation, I decided to stop being so hard on myself for once and just enjoy this for what it was. Comforting.
Halfway through the movie, I glanced over at Isaac and realized he’d been looking at me, probably for a while. I quickly looked back at the TV.
Shit. Every girl knew what that meant.
“You ignoring me?” His voice was low.
“Huh?” I played dumb, trying my hardest to look super focused on the movie.
His thumb stroked my side. “I’m really attracted to you, you know.” I blew out a shaky breath, hating how good his touch felt.
Time to pump the brakes. “Isaac, we’re friends, right?” I asked as he shifted closer.
“Yeah, of course we’re friends.” He licked his lips. “We could be friends with benefits if you want.” Damn. At least he was direct.
“I don’t really do that.” I explained.
“Why not?” He asked, no judgment in his voice, only a simple question, but I couldn’t come up with an answer. Maybe there had never been anyone who fit the criteria I’d need to make that type of situation work. I honestly had no idea.
Isaac’s voice dropped a bit lower, his thumb moving up to the sensitive place on my ribcage as he continued stroking, waking me up in all kinds of ways. Damn, being wanted, being touched. It felt good. “I could make you feel better, you know.” He sounded sincere as I searched his face.
Maybe I should change it up. Maybe I should do something different. Maybe this was exactly what I needed. Maybe this was a version of letting go. Of more things than one, for that matter.
Slowly, he leaned forward, and I didn’t pull away, letting my eyes fall shut when his lips met mine.
It was nice. He was a decent kisser, he smelled really good, he was an attractive guy—this could be good for me, I decided.
Slowly, he pushed me back onto the couch, not breaking the kiss. With his body hovering over mine, his kissing turned more urgent, more dominant.
“Isaac.” I murmured, turning my head towards the TV to break away.
“I’ve been dying to kiss you since the first time I saw you.” He rasped, and with my lips out of reach, he moved down my jaw to my throat.
“Isaac.” I said again, and his mouth crushed against mine, silencing me, the kissing deeper, too intense.
He was moving so fucking fast. I lifted my chin, forcing his lips off mine. “Slower. I need to go slower.” I put my hand on his chest, pushing him back.
He nodded intently. “Of course. Yeah, no problem.” He kissed me more slowly, and I relaxed slightly, threading my arms around his neck. “We’ll go as slow as you want.”
Not ten seconds later, his hands slid up underneath my shirt and I pushed them back down mid kiss, but a moment later he tried yet again, and with his body pressed against mine, pinning me against the couch, tongue sliding aggressively down my throat. All take and no give— panic seized me.
“This is too much.” I gasped into his mouth, pushing against him. “I need to sit up.”
“I know, right.” He murmured, hands everywhere, ignoring my request.
I pushed him back, but he was much bigger than me, and he didn’t budge. Not even a little. In that moment, everything flipped in an instant. “Isaac, stop.” My voice came out so incredibly paper-thin.
“What’s the matter? You shy?” He was on the second button of my sweater already.
“Stop!” I shoved against him as hard as I could. “Stop it. I can’t do this.” I quickly shimmied out from under him while I still could.
He sat back on the couch, irritated. “What’s the matter? I thought we were having a good time.”
“Yeah, well, you thought wrong.” I held back the tears as my body quivered with adrenaline.
He shrugged. “I’d settle for a blowjob at least.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I cried.
“Geez.” He stood up, walking towards me as I backed away. “Sara, at least finish the movie.” He motioned to the couch. “Come on, you’re acting like I’m not a nice guy.”
“You aren’t a nice guy!” I screeched incredulously. “ Nice guys don’t pull that kind of shit.” God, I could have slapped him for that statement alone, but I buttoned my sweater back up, tears finally falling, and as I sprinted for the door, that’s when I noticed a camera in the corner of the room.
I looked back at Isaac in horror as he pulled something out of his pocket and took another step in my direction with a look in his eyes that made my blood run cold. I sprinted out the door, making a panicked mad dash for my car.
Peeling out of the parking lot with a screech, I watched Isaac’s silhouette disappear in my rearview mirror as my stomach churned.
I drove several blocks away and finally parked somewhere random before completely breaking down.
I’d been so fucking stupid to trust him—I had spent the last few weeks letting this asshole in, letting him work my emotional walls down, when he only had one fucking goal in mind.
Fuck the sad girl and make a quick buck.
I’d spent what little energy I had left on him, and it was such a waste. I felt used, defeated, tricked, stupid, and most of all, I felt so fucking sad.
In that moment, I knew it was time to return the calls and texts I’d been ignoring. Paying attention to what had been right in front of me had been the weaker, easier move.
There was one person I was desperate to hear from, but he clearly didn’t feel the same, so I would let that one go.
Picking up the phone, I did what I should have done weeks ago. I turned to someone I knew I could always count on.
I called Sloane. “I need you.”
“I’m there.” She said without raising a single question. “Packing a bag right now.”