Home > Stay with Me(135)

Stay with Me(135)
Author: Nicole Fiorina

My entire body vibrated under the single thought of her.

I missed that fucking feeling.

Zeke ran to the door and stretched his arms out, shaking his head. I rolled my head back. “Step aside, mate.” His hands moved vigorously, and it became hard to keep up with his movements. “I’m good,”—I raised my palm in the air, showing steady hands— “I won’t even touch her. Just want to see her.”

mia.

“Mia?”

I snapped my attention to my left. “hmm?”

“Progress?” Arty repeated with raised brows.

“Oh, right … ” The only progress I’d made this week was the continuous loss of relationships. Why did Ethan have to push things to the next level? Why couldn’t he keep things the way they were? Everything had been fine with us. “I don’t know. None.”

In the last half hour, I’d managed to avoid all eye contact with Ollie. If our eyes locked, his force would break all barriers, revealing the regret and shame hiding within them from what had happened with Ethan. And his eyes were on me this very moment, calling me, screaming for me, begging for me to see him.

I feel you, Ollie.

A tingle in my bones.

“There’s got to be something,” Arty pushed.

“Pass.”

“Setbacks?” Ollie asked, announcing himself in the room. He needed me to acknowledge him sitting across from me, but I clamped my mouth shut and kept my eyes facing the marble.

A few snickers echoed throughout the circle, yet Ollie’s shift in his chair was the loudest. He lowered his hand and snapped his finger, calling for my attention, but I refused and bit my lip to fight the shame from spilling from my eyes.

The rest of group therapy carried on in the same manner, me staring at the ground and biting the inside of my cheek. Once Arty dismissed us, I jumped up and blew past the circle to make it out the door first and down the stairs.

I hadn’t made it past the third-floor bathroom when I was yanked back by my belt loop and pulled through a door. I kept my head down and fixed my eyes on Ollie’s black Vans as the tears pooled at the corner of my eyes. He stood before me, fists clenched at his sides, already preparing for the worst. Heat emitted from him and his breathing stopped.

Then his fingers stretched out as he let out a long exhale.

“Dammit, Mia. Look at me.” I snapped my head up and faced the music. A fire burned in his eyes, and his nostrils flared. Then as if that one look sedated him, Ollie’s shoulders dropped beneath his black hoodie, and he leaned into me, his body remembering me. Calm. Relieved. Revived. Hopeful green eyes examined mine, and he wet his busted lip. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

“Ollie, I—

“No, Mia. I don’t care to know the details,” he cut in, all-knowingly.

“But—

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I have to get it out!” I’d erupt if I didn’t. It had only been nine hours since Ethan left my room this morning, but that meant nine hours consumed with shame.

He raised his brows and lifted his chin. “Did you fuck him?”

“No, but—

“Did you kiss him?”

“No, Ollie.”

His head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “Are you confused?”

Never. “No!”

“Then it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“How could you say that?”

“Because you have no idea what it’s like to fall in love with you. I’m not stupid, he’s in love with you, and he’d be a bloody fool not to try something.” He looked off for a moment before his eyes hit mine again. “Let it go, love. Guilt looks horrible on you. It doesn’t match the color of your eyes.”

An unavoidable smile played on my lips.

His mouth lifted in the corner as he slowly blinked. “Ah, there she is.”

“You going to tell me what happened to your face?”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Does anything matter to you?”

Ollie’s hand lifted and pointed at my chest. He held his finger there for a moment before turning his finger to his own, his chest steadily rising against it.

My eyes darted from his chest to his face. You and I. All barricades lifted from his green eyes, exposing himself entirely to me. Unsure of how long this moment would last, I gripped the black hood framing his face and yanked him down.

Mouths crashed, pulses kicked, and feelings flowed between our sacred moment. Weakness pulled me under, but Ollie lifted me, wrapping fingers around the back of my head to keep me with him—keep me grounded from floating in what always came of us. Rapture. My lips screamed that I missed him while his screamed to remember him.

To remember us.

Like I could ever forget.

His tongue pushed through the cracks, an injection straight to the heart. A moan rattled inside his chest, and he dropped his forearms on both sides of me against the wall, caging me in.

Our tempo morphed from eager and hungry to slow and sensual, linked by mouths and hearts permanently engraved in each other’s names.

I kissed the corners of his lips, his injuries, and our noses brushed, then he dropped his forehead to mine. My chest ached, and I couldn’t catch my breath, already grieving the absence of this and knowing I’d soon be without him all over again.

“You don’t have to be afraid, love,” he whispered, and I squeezed my eyes closed to ease the burn. “I know you’re hurting, but we’re going to get through this.” I lifted off the wall and sank inside his arms, stuffing my face into his hoodie to breathe him in. Ollie kissed the top of my head and pulled me away just enough to see me. “Together this time. You and I.”

 

The alarm for lock-down blared through the intercom before Dean Lynch’s voice echoed throughout Dolor as I walked back to my dorm in a hurry. Once my feet landed on my wing, bodies disappeared behind doors before they locked behind them.

I scanned the hall for security. Nothing.

A girl I recognized blew past me.

“What happened?” I called out.

She shrugged her shoulders before receding inside her dorm.

When I entered my room, Ethan’s back was to me as he stared out my window. His shoulder blades moved beneath his shirt as he tightened his arms across his chest. “Where were you?” he asked, then turned to face me with a blank expression.

“Group therapy,” I deadpanned, closing the door behind me and dropping my shoulders.

Ethan’s gaze slid to the clock above my door and back down to me. “Group therapy ended thirty minutes ago.”

“What’s it to you?”

Ethan walked toward me. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I asked, taking a step back.

“Lynch wants to see you.” He opened the door and nudged his head for me to follow. When I didn’t budge, he dropped his chin and narrowed his eyes. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice.”

“Is this because I denied you?”

Ethan let out an incredulous chuckle and swiped a palm over his face. “Now, Jett,” he growled. “This is serious.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, and after three seconds of locked eyes, I stepped forward and pushed past him just as Ollie reached his door, coming back from the moment we shared only moments ago.

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