Chapter 15 – Reese #2
Why had I ever once thought he was fucking with me?
That he was saying things just to mess with me?
He’d proved with his words and his actions time and time again that he meant what he said.
And because I knew that he really would help me if I asked him, because he was still here after seeing me at my very worst, still offering to help, Dakota Voss was the most dangerous person in my life.
If I let him, he could break down my walls with one touch of his finger. He could destroy me in ways I’d never recover from.
“I don’t do it anymore,” I whispered. My head was pounding, and all my limbs felt like jelly. I lay back down, the last of what little strength I had left all gone. “I stopped doing that years ago. But…”
But I still liked pain. Still liked it when I got hurt. Still felt a fucked-up kind of pleasure that I wanted to prolong, to live in, but I’d stopped cutting myself years ago.
“But?”
I closed my eyes as his fingers rubbed back and forth over my head, his touch lulling me into a serene state.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
Dakota sighed. “Can you do me a favor, at least?”
I opened my eyes to find him watching me with a serious expression. “What?”
“Can you tell me when…” He took a shaky breath, and I wanted to wrap my arms around him. “…when you’re hurt or not feeling well so that I don’t have to find you like I did? Please?”
His eyes held mine so completely that everything else faded into the background.
“All I’m asking is that you tell me when you’re not feeling well. Please.”
It was the earnestness that got to me. He’d demolished any barriers I’d erected between us with that solemn sincerity, even if it was for the briefest moment.
It had been so long since anyone cared about me, cared about how I was doing. Whenever that simple question of are you okay? was asked—but never to me—I had to shove down that painful desire for someone to ask me if I was okay.
I bit down on my bottom lip and nodded. “Okay. Yeah.”
Surprise flickered across his features, and then his eyes lit up, and the slow, satisfied smile that stretched across his face was beautiful.
He was mesmerizing when he smiled like that.
“Okay,” he repeated, those dark eyes holding mine.
“Okay.” I couldn’t look away, and I didn’t really want to. There was some kind of anticipatory energy hanging between us, invisible heat crackling along my skin.
Amusement glinted in his eyes, and he winked at me. “Okay, darling.”
My stomach flipped and my face started to burn. I hated how much I blushed around him, how flustered he constantly made me.
Hated it.
“Don’t,” I muttered, sliding my gaze down to his hand as I rubbed over his palm, feeling the cracks of his life lines.
He shifted closer to me.
I looked down at Dakota’s long fingers, then glanced at him. His eyes were on mine as he kept running his fingers through my hair.
“Don’t what?” he asked softly.
I wanted to shake him off me and cling to him all at once.
I wanted to run out of this room and hide somewhere far away from the rest of the world.
“Don’t…” I swallowed thickly.
Don’t be so nice to me.
Don’t make me feel these things.
Don’t keep proving me wrong.
Don’t go.
I wanted my mom to tell me it was all gonna be okay, that I didn’t have to be afraid of anything because she would always be there to scare away the monsters.
I wanted my dad to tell me that we all make mistakes, not a single one of us is perfect, and all that matters is if we try to do better.
I wanted Lauren to try and comfort me with her wide grins and too-tight hugs as she called me Reese’s Pieces.
All I had were echoes of their words that had been distorted by time.
All I have…
I stared down at our hands.
…is Dakota.
“Don’t what, Reese?”
I searched his eyes, completely baffled that he wanted to be around me. That he wanted to take care of me. That he worried about me.
I hated getting sick because it always sent me falling into the deepest well of despair. It only reminded me just how alone I was, an unbearable emphasis on a life I resented.
Those were times I’d trade my soul to forget.
I didn’t have anyone to look out for me anymore, and to have him be here now, witnessing the mess that was me and smiling like it was nothing, offering to help me instead of walking away was…
Confusing. Overwhelming. It was reaching into some dark, abandoned part of me and dragging it out into the light.
And it fucking hurt.
It was painful to think I’d have to let someone in again.
To already be doing it without any conscious effort.
I’d have to show some level of vulnerability when the last ten years of my life had revolved around shutting people out and building my walls thicker and higher.
Those walls were part of me now, and to rip them down would be agonizing.
I liked pain, but not that kind of pain.
Don’t leave me.
I let the truth sink into that bitter, aching part of me that refused to let go, and it eagerly swallowed it up. “Don’t forget you have class later.”
He looked amused and disappointed all at once, and I was too tired to withstand his intensity anymore, so I shut my eyes.
My chest was starting to feel a little congested, and exhaustion had firmly settled over me.
“You look tired. You should sleep. Are you hungry? I have some soup, I think.”
“Don’t you have stuff to do?” I sighed.
“Nope, it’s the last week of the semester. Midterms are done and it’s basically pointless to go.”
I opened my eyes. “Don’t skip class. You must have something else to do besides sit here and baby me.”
A sly smile worked its way across his face, and my heart started to race in anticipation, like my brain had already figured out the warning signs of when he was about to do or say something that would send a rush of exhilaration through me.
So pretty much all the time.
“I’ll baby you all day. Baby.”
That one was my fault, I’d set myself up for that.
For all of this.
He had my darkest secret, and that meant he had some kind of hold over me now that he knew what I’d done to myself. How fucked up I really was.
“Dakota, please don’t…don’t tell anyone, okay? Please.”
He threw his leg over both of mine, trapping me, and studied me with an unreadable expression. Then he winked and said, “Who would I even tell? I’m a social pariah.”
“Just promise me.”
He dropped his head and rested his cheek on our joined hands and stared up at me. “I’ll keep your secret if you let me help you.”
I let my gaze drift over his face, taking in the freckles, the scar. Those long, thick lashes. His hair tickled my arm where it had fallen. Amusement tangled with exhaustion. “You’re blackmailing me now?”
He shrugged, looking nowhere close to sorry. “I’m not above it.”
There was something about the complete lack of judgment from him that coiled around my heart and squeezed. I had a feeling he’d keep my secret no matter what, that making it conditional was just to push me in the right direction.
“Fine.”
“You’re really hot when you pout like that.”
Shock parted my lips, and after staring at him in horror and confusion for a solid five seconds, he nuzzled his face into the back of my hand.
He seemed a little paler this morning, like maybe he hadn’t gotten much sleep. It made his scar more prominent, the freckles just a bit more pronounced.
That article about him that I’d read all those weeks ago popped into my head, and I just couldn’t believe it was true. Well, if it was, there was a reason. Dakota’s family was messed up and I wouldn’t put it past his dad to do something like that.
“What?” he asked. “You look like you wanna ask me something.”
I did.
“Is it true you went to a behavioral health facility when you were younger?”
As soon as the words were out, I regretted them immensely—that wasn’t my business and if he wanted to talk about it, he would bring it up himself.
“Did someone tell you that?” His voice was soft, but his eyes were hard as they bored into mine.
The shame I felt now was even worse, and I thought maybe it would actually kill me, that no one could survive feeling this horrible. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
He gave me a small smile. “You looked me up?”
I stared down at my hands, my face burning with embarrassment. “Yes.” He already knew I’d looked him up, but I could tell he liked hearing that for whatever reason.
His smile grew. “You wanted to know about me?”
I shrugged.
“You could’ve just asked. You can ask me anything.”
It was like he wanted me to ask him anything. Everything. Like he was as desperate for me to be as curious about him as he was for me to touch him.
And fuck me, why did I like that so damn much?
Dakota sighed, then closed his eyes. “Yeah, I was sent to an upscale facility for people with behavioral issues. Mental illnesses and such. Aggressive or violent tendencies, suicidal ideation. I don’t have a mental illness—at least, I don’t think I do—but after…
” He gestured at his face. “After this whole mess, Albert gladly believed Everett’s version of events and sent me off.
I thought it was punishment for more than that.
For stopping mid-performance and walking away.
I made him look bad, hurt his image, and he was pissed at me.
And he was probably sick of looking at me.
Dealing with me. I was pretty difficult at that age. ”
He opened his eyes. “So yeah, I spent a year there, picked up smoking because there was fuck-all to do, was forced to take anti-depressants when I wasn’t depressed, and those just…” He shook his head, as if trying to shake off a bad, bad memory that was clinging too hard. “They weren’t fun.”
He didn’t say anything for a few moments, then smiled at me. In spite of everything he’d just told me, he was smiling, and I wondered how he could ever smile again after such a horrific experience, after being treated like that by family.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, not knowing what else to say. But beneath the sadness, there was a bubbling fury at the ones who had wronged him.
Dakota shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “It’s fine. That was like…seven years ago? It’s in the past and I’ve left it there. I don’t need to carry all that around with me.”
I didn’t know how he could just let it go so easily, and part of me was viciously jealous of that. How much happier would I be if I were able to let go, too? Was I even capable of feeling that emotion anymore?
“So what do you think about me now that you know I’m crazy?”
I scrunched my brows together and looked at him. “You’re not crazy, stop saying that.”
“That’s not what everyone else thinks.”
“I don’t really give a shit what everyone else thinks, I can form my own opinions and I’m pretty sure you’re just really weird, not crazy.”
The left side of his mouth curved up. “Weird, huh?”
“Yeah, you’re weird as shit. And honest to an annoying fault. It really feels like you’re fucking with me all the time, but…”
I ran my thumb down his index finger.
“But…?”
“Can’t I just trail off and not have you goad me into finishing my sentences?” I scowled at him but was quickly distracted by the humor in his eyes.
“No, that’s just rude. Finish your sentences. Especially when they’re about me.”
“You’re so annoying,” I muttered, not meaning it at all. “But I don’t think you’re actually fucking with me. I think you’re being genuine. Which is…”
I bit my bottom lip, and when I glanced at him, he was staring at my mouth.
His eyes flashed to mine as he smiled. “Which is…?”
I rolled my eyes and let out a long, frustrated sigh. “Surprising.”
“Good. I like surprising you. But I don’t like it when you surprise me like you did last night, so can you please promise me you’ll tell me if something is wrong?”
He moved his fingers from my hair and held his hand between us, palm up, those long, pretty fingers steady and still. Were we making a deal?
I raised my gaze to his as my heart pounded. “I don’t get you. Why do you care?”
“Because. I saved your life, so that makes you mine. Twice, if we’re counting last night. I’m definitely counting it.”
My jaw dropped, and I wanted to ignore the way those words sounded so fucking good that I wanted to hear them again and again and again.
That makes you mine.
But when I saw the amusement in his eyes and his lips twitched as he tried not to smile, disappointment rose and I resisted the urge to punch him.
“You’re fucking delusional,” I muttered. “Get lost.”
And still, I slipped my hand into his.
Because underneath that amusement I saw a glaring truth: it wasn’t some joke to him, he really believed what he was saying, and I wanted to live in that belief. In his delusion. I wanted to stay wrapped up there and be kept forever.
But instead of saying any of that, I asked, “So when are you going home for break?”
The smile he gave me was wolfish. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for the next month, darling.”
Those butterflies in my stomach multiplied and exploded.
Fuck.