Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
DYLAN
MY PARTNER HAS a bad habit of running off, and at this point, I’m one chase away from investing in handcuffs.
Inside Iona House, I knock on Sierra’s dorm door, after some girl—who happened to remember me very well—let me into the building.
When I helped take Julia to the medical room, my mind was stuck on Sierra.
It was like it all had flashed before her eyes.
I went to find her in the changerooms, but she was gone.
Coach Kilner was the one to tell me he saw her leave.
He also decided that was a good time to tell me I’ve been approved to come to some of the hockey practices. I’ve barely registered that; I couldn’t even think about anything other than Sierra’s face. It fucked with something in my chest.
Scarlett opens the door with a sympathetic smile. “She’s not feeling so great, Dylan.”
“I know, but I just want to make sure she’s okay. Please, Scarlett.”
She must see the desperation in my eyes, because she pulls the door open wider and lets me in. But just as I start toward Sierra’s room, Scarlett stops me, turning me to face her again.
“Dylan, I know you’re her partner, and I can see you care about her. But she’s been hurt before, and she’s not the kind of girl that’s going to let you hold her hand.”
“I know,” I say. “But I’m going to anyway.”
I step past her and rap my knuckles once on Sierra’s door before pushing it open. The sight inside knocks the breath out of me. She’s lying on her side, curled up with her hands tucked between her thighs, and she’s wearing my hoodie.
It’s too big on her, the sleeves swallowing her fingertips, the hem brushing her knees. The image of her wrapped up in something of mine makes it hard to swallow.
“Sorry I left—” she starts when she sees me.
“Don’t.” I close the door and move to sit on her bed. It’s small, nowhere near big enough for me, but I stay there, brushing a hand across her cheek.
Sierra’s lip starts to tremble, and she buries her face in her hands.
“Come here, baby,” I whisper, gently drawing her in.
She moves without hesitation, tucking her face in the crook of my neck.
Sierra melts into my arms, just like she did last night.
Like she belongs there. I’m not sure she even realizes that she scoots back to make room for me on her bed.
I don’t question it; I ease down beside her, pulling her close until we’re tangled together.
“I thought I was better. But seeing all that blood, and hearing her scream, it took me right back.” Her voice shakes.
“And he just stood there. Exactly like he did when I fell. It just reminds me of how stupid I was trying to be enough for him and never measuring up. I would let him throw fits and scream at me, thinking it was my fault. I always tried to improve because I knew I could be better.”
A storm threatens to break inside me. “You don’t need to be screamed at, ever,” I say roughly.
She shakes her head. “But I still understood why he did it. He was just frustrated, and I know how I can be.”
“Don’t say that, Sierra. Not to me. Because if I see him again, I won’t be able to stop myself from knocking his teeth out.” I make her look at me this time. “You could never deserve that.”
She sighs, clutching my shirt. “It’s like the universe wanted to remind me that, at the end of the day, that’s my story. No matter how far I try to run from it.”
She’s shaking, but I can tell she’s not crying or, rather, fighting not to.
My fingers slip into her hair, combing through the strands.
“Your reaction doesn’t mean you aren’t healing.
You’ve gotten yourself all the way here.
” I pause, my thumb brushing gently against her temple.
“And if you need my hand to help you make it the rest of the way, I’ll be here.
But this is all you, Sierra. It always has been. ”
She’s barely smiling, but I’ll take it. “It sounds easy when you say it.”
“Seeing you in pain isn’t something I enjoy, but the way you continuously push through it is the most incredible thing I’ve witnessed.” Her cheeks go pink, and I can’t help but chuckle.
She furrows her brow. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“Can’t help it,” I say, a grin tugging at my lips. “I’ve never seen someone who’s threatened to slit my throat blush this much.”
“Must be an allergic reaction,” she mutters, her palms flying up to press against her cheeks.
I lean in, closing the space between us, and press a soft kiss to one flushed cheek, then the other.
Her hands drop, her eyes wide as she blinks at me, nose to nose.
Her warm breath brushes against my lips, and I don’t move.
Scarlett’s words come back to me, but every single one incinerates when Sierra’s lips press against mine.
The kiss is nothing like the one in the car, or on the mats. This one is slow, gentle, and vulnerable. Her tongue slides against mine, and she fists my shirt while she moans into my mouth. I could never get tired of this.
Then, when my hand falls against her waist, where the hoodie has ridden up, Sierra slaps a hand over mine and pulls away. It’s the third time she’s done that.
“What’s wrong?”
She sits up, moving right against her headboard, frantically shaking her head. “Nothing. Sor—I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“When you kiss like that, Sierra, you don’t get to go shy on me.” Her gaze is fixed on the bed, until I sit up to take her chin between my fingers. “What is it?”
“I have scars,” she blurts out.
SIERRA
THIS IS NOT how I expected tonight to go, but feeling Dylan’s soft hands and words fall on my skin sparked an unexpected craving. Enough that I told him about my scars. He’s the first guy to see me like this. So unprotected, so open.
I show him the one on my skull first, but it’s barely visible with the new hair growth.
Then the long linear scar going down my ribs, raised and bumpy.
The fading hole from the chest tube, puckered and sunken.
Harsh and ugly. I wait for him to move back, to look at them with poorly hidden disgust. To leave.
“I know you’ve been with girls that are all smooth skin and flawless. And I know no one wants a constant reminder of my shitty past during this.”
“Sierra.”
“I know, they’re ugly.”
“Sierra.” My name falls off his lips like it’s painful to say. His eyes darken like he can’t fathom I just said that.
“This?” He runs his hand along the jagged scar like it’s something precious. “This scar is the reason you’re here right now. With me. There isn’t a single thing about you that’s ugly.”
My chest feels like it’s caving in. It feels like too much and not enough at the same time. My eyes start to sting. I scramble off the bed, but Dylan grabs my wrist before I can get far.
“Will you let me see you?” His gaze follows the scar that disappears beneath the waistband of my shorts.
My heart hammers before I swallow and just barely manage to nod.
Without warning, Dylan drops to his knees, and my breath catches. “I can do it,” I say quickly.
He stares up at me with a wicked smile. “Just let me be on my knees for you, Sierra. I know that’s where you’ve always wanted me anyway.” Dylan drags the shorts down my legs. He must notice my fisted hands, because he takes them and places them on his shoulders.
A bucket of ice-cold self-consciousness nearly drowns me. “I know guys don’t always like doing this. You don’t have to—”
“What kind of idiots have you let touch you?” He shakes his head. “I like it. And since I’m the one between your legs, that’s all that fucking matters.”
I believe him. I don’t think there could be a world out there where Dylan Donovan doesn’t worship every part of a woman.
“This is about you, okay? Well, a little for me too.” A pause. “Okay, a lot for me, but I can make you feel amazing. It’s what I’m good at.”
He just made my chest burst open with his words, but he thinks this is all he’s good at?
“I fucking knew it.” Dylan chuckles, hands trailing my exposed scar. “Unreal.” He kisses the scar, then just above my navel, and lower, toward my core. I’m on fire. “Beautiful.”
I go completely still, and he notices. Dylan stands, lifting my leg with him, making me realize how terribly wet I am.
“If this is too much, we can put your shorts back on and forget this happened. But I would really like to show you exactly how I feel about your body by kissing every inch of you and your scars till the sun comes up.”
I’m sure I could disintegrate into a puddle at this moment. “I haven’t done this in a while,” I admit. “I haven’t even touched myself. Not since …”
My inexperience feels jarring when Dylan Donovan is in front of me.
His gaze flickers. “You haven’t masturbated in over a year?”
There’s no judgment in his voice, but I still feel like a prude.
“Why would I give my body this pleasure when it took so much from me?” The words slip out so fast, I purse my lips.
No one thinks like that; no one punishes their body like it’s not a part of them.
But after the accident, that’s all I’ve seen it as.
His expression softens to something breakable, exactly how I feel. “Let me show you how much you deserve it, Sierra. Not your body, not your brain, but you.”
He still wants this? To kiss my ugly scars? “Why?”
Dylan chuckles. It’s so sexy I almost clench my thighs together, but he’s between them. “Because you calling your scars ugly is unacceptable, and I want to rectify that.”
Oh.
“Tell me, Sierra. Are you gonna let me taste you until the only thing you’re saying about your body is how much you want me inside it?”
I nearly choke, but my body shakes with anticipation as I nod.
“Thank you,” he whispers against my skin as his nose drags down my body. “You’re so brave.” Another kiss. “So pretty.” Another one. “So fucking mean it makes me hard.”