Chapter 35
aimee
The first thing I became aware of was the feel of my head thumping in time with my heartbeat.
The second thing was the stuffiness that filled the inside of my head and dulled my senses.
The third thing was the heavy weight that banded across my middle.
The fourth thing was the tickle of breaths on the back of my neck.
Opening my eyes, I squinted against the dull light seeping in through the curtains that had been haphazardly closed.
Even the minor amount of daylight aggravated my already pounding head.
I shifted slightly, and the weight around my middle tightened, and I blindly reached down to find out what it was—an arm.
I craned my neck, finding Lukas curled tightly behind me and locking me against his body.
And then, other things caught my attention.
One of his legs was tucked between mine.
His other arm was shoved under the pillow, under my head.
He smelled like cinnamon spice and it permeated the air around me.
I shifted again, and his arm tightened further and then I stilled.
Because one other thing had become very obviously apparent.
I could feel the very hard, and very generous length of him against my backside and despite the pathetic state I was very obviously in, it took all my willpower to not squeeze my legs together and whimper.
But I didn’t have to, as Lukas’s leg shifted higher, his thigh nearly pressing at my core and it was so tempting to want to move, to grind myself on the corded muscle I knew would be there.
But something had happened last night, and flashes of it were starting to come back.
So to occupy my thoughts, I ignored the building desire as it was definitely not the time, and watched my finger as I traced the veins on the back of his hand and up his forearm.
Up and down, back and forth, until I felt him shift behind me, and I knew he was waking up.
As Lukas woke up, he pulled away from me. I rolled over to face him. He looked so young, still half asleep, still waking up. His dark hair was mussed, and his eyes were still half lidded—he wasn’t a morning person, that much was pretty clear.
He rubbed his eyes with his hands, doing a full body stretch before yawning and looking at me.
I wiggled a little bit closer, and reached out into the space he’d put between us.
Lukas rolled over onto his side and I could see him checking me over, making sure I was okay.
I inched my hand and fingers over the bed until I was touching him, gripping his shirt, grounding myself in his presence.
“Hi,” I whispered.
And I wished that I was greeting him for any other reason than trauma.
I was dumping it all on him and expecting him to just be able to cope with it all.
But I could see something in his eyes that hadn’t been there a few days ago, a reservation, hesitation and conflict and I knew.
I blinked back the burn of tears and pushed away the dread filling my chest. I ignored the urge to scramble out of this bed and run far, far away before he could make my biggest fears come to light.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching out to brush hair away from my face.
My eyes fluttered at the feeling of his fingers, a feeling that was gone much too soon as he lowered his hand back to the bed.
“Honestly? Exhausted. I’m guessing Eloise dropped me off here last night?” I asked, my voice quiet.
“You scared her, and she didn’t know what to do,” he said softly.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment before steeling myself and meeting his gaze.
“She shouldn’t have bothered you,” I said.
“Aimee, it’s not a problem. You were near inconsolable. It took me a long time to calm you down. Why didn’t you tell me you were having nightmares again?”
Because you’re growing to resent me, my trauma, and getting involved with me. You’re realizing that the idea of Aimee Bryant is way more appealing than the reality.
I don’t say any of that though, and just give him a sad smile and a shrug.
“I thought I was handling it by using the tools I’ve been taught. But last night…last night was the worst it’s been since the beginning.”
“You have people in your life that want to be there for you and help you,” he said.
I sat up, pulling away from him and got out of the bed. Lukas sat up, but didn’t move to come after me. And I knew.
Too hot.
Too fast.
Too much.
Too quickly.
I swallowed past the lump, past the tears. I shouldn’t be surprised. I shouldn’t even be upset and hurt because it was my fault.
“You’re right. But sometimes this,” I tapped on my head. “Forgets. And it runs away.”
He gave me a tight smile, but he didn’t really meet my eyes.
“He’s been haunting me for the last week,” I said. “And last night he killed me.”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice, but I cleared my throat and continued to talk.
“He accused me of a lot of things, and it wasn’t until I was under the ice staring at him through the water that I realized that I couldn’t let him have this kind of power over me. That I shouldn’t have to live in fear of being happy.”
Lukas stared at me, and I didn’t like the look in his eyes or the emotions racing over his face.
“And of course I know all this, but brains. They’re fickle, and sometimes I forget and the guilt and the pain get the better of me.”
“You can’t blame yourself,” Lukas said, his voice gentle but hard.
“I shouldn’t blame myself, but I do. I probably always will. I know now that what I thought we were wasn’t everything I believed us to be, that he was hurting me long before I knew it, before I realized it.”
“I don’t even know where I’m going with all this, but to say the least, last night was terrifying, but eye opening and I’m sorry you got stuck trying to bring me back.”
I watched as his jaw clenched, and the heart I was trying so hard to mend with his help shattered a bit. But it was okay, I taped it up and put on a brave face, because that’s all I had in me.
“I-I don’t want you to feel guilty or have any sort of obligations towards me,” I said, my voice catching at the beginning.
“I completely understand if this is too much—it’s too much for me most days, and you have your own life to contend with.”
Lukas was out of the bed in an instant, his hands gripping either side of my face.
The pain etched onto his features, the fear in his eyes.
His whole body was tense as he loomed over me, stared down at me like I was his salvation and his damnation.
His grip gentled and he tipped my head back ever so slightly so he could look me in the eyes without having to crane his neck so far.
“No,” he rasped out. “No. You do not get to end things, you do not get to say goodbye.” His voice caught and broke, and I saw the silver lining his eyes.
“Lukas, it’s okay.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head.
I wished he wouldn’t make this already incredibly hard thing even harder because letting him go was the last thing I wanted to do.
Too fast.
Too much.
Too soon.
Too quickly.
And it didn’t matter, because I didn’t want anything else. Anything less. I wanted to be his salvation and his damnation, the same way I want him to be mine. But I could see the conflict in his eyes, the inner turmoil he was clearly facing.
“Lukas,” I said, my voice pleading. “You want so much, you have dreams, and right now…I’m a weight dragging you down. You’re more worried about me and my trauma than you are with your future, and that’s not fair to you and everything you’ve worked towards for years.”
“You sound like Petyr,” he gritted out.
“Your coach isn’t wrong. You need to focus on this upcoming race, and not whether or not I’m going to freak out, or if my ex-boyfriend is haunting my unconscious brain.”
“You’re breaking my heart right now. I love you. I want to be with you,” he said.
I closed my eyes at the feel of his thumbs brushing over the tops of my cheeks and I leaned into the touch. I relished in the feel of him, the comfort he brought, and I would miss what we never got a chance to experience.
He looks so sad. I hate that I’m doing this to him…to us.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered into the air between us.
“Then, please don’t,” he begged.
I raised my hands and gripped his wrists, holding him where he was, not wanting him to let go, to sever the contact—even though he ought to.
“I don’t want to,” I said, honestly.
He didn’t respond with words, but his mouth on mine in a claiming, searing kiss that dragged me onto my tiptoes as he devoured me.
And I let him, despite the fears and reservations that plagued my mind, and undoubtedly plagued his.
His hands dropped from my face, and my arms wound around his neck as he moved up my spine, pressing and lifting me to him.
I fumbled to get my legs around his waist, and then his hands moved to cup my ass and I moaned.
“We shouldn’t,” I said breathlessly.
He silenced my protest with another searing kiss.
I felt him move, distantly heard his footsteps on the carpet.
My back pressed into the blankets on the bed, and he hovered over me, having broken the kiss.
My legs were still latched around his hips, and the hardness from this morning was still very evident.
A whimper escaped as I felt the press of him.
His hands pressed into the bed on either side of my face and he stared down at me, his eyes a bit wild in their wideness, but I could see anger flashing in their depths and it doused the need spiking through my body.
I couldn’t help the tremble that ran through me, loosening the grip my thighs had on him.
I was terrified of what he was going to say, even though it couldn’t be that much different than what I’d just spent minutes monologuing.