Page 106 of Trust Me

“Well, I’m waiting with bated breath.”

When I shook my head, he refocused on my finger. There was a sharp pinch, which made me suck in a breath and try to jerk away from him. He held on tightly, continuing whatever torture he was doing. After a second, he held up his thumb. There was a tiny piece of bloody glass on it.

He gave me a smug look. “See?”

“It would’ve come out eventually.”

“Or got infected.”

“Okay, Dr. Kennedy.”

He took another minute to disinfect my thumb and wrapped two Band-Aids around it in the shape of an X. I was about to hop down to continue cleaning, but his hand suddenly latched onto my neck, just firmly enough to hold me in place. I could still breathe perfectly, but I tried to lean back anyway, my heart racing.

“Talk to me,” he demanded.

“Dean, let me go.”

He dropped his hand but didn’t move back. My eyes closed as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“Please talk to me,” he whispered. “I literally can’t stand this.”

“I’m just scared, okay?”

“You said that, but not why.”

Turning away, I tried to draw in a full breath. “I’m not . . .” I shook my head back and forth. “I don’t think I can do this, Dean.”

“You’re the one who started this.”

“I know.”

“Is it because of what’s going on with Remi? If you need time . . .”

I struggled to keep myself in place while my entire body told me to leave. To run. Nothing good could come out of this.

But he deserved an explanation. Throughout my life, I’d taught myself to communicate, even if it did me no good. Too many people didn’t do that, and I hated to let things hang in the balance.

“I’m a disaster,” I explained quietly. His thumb brushed along my jaw, and I found myself leaning into it. “You’re already not sure about this. The uncertainty . . . I just can’t do it.”

“Okay.”

Grabbing his wrist, I held his hand in place where it had found my jaw, too afraid he’d be the one to walk away. “I’m waiting for the door to slam.”

His brow furrowed. “I thought you were shutting it.”

“Yeah . . . It’s better than giving you the chance to do it.”

“Oli, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Doesn’t it, though?”

Despite all the time I’d spent moving on from the past, I peeked inside that closet of old dusty things. If anyone deserved a glimpse, it was Dean. He was asking when nobody else had bothered.

“Every time I thought someone might keep me, they didn’t,” I said. “If I don’t close the door, I might get used to it being open. I might believe that you’ll stay. At least if it’s my choice, then it doesn’t feel like the same damn story all over again.”

“But you’re not sitting around waiting for someone to save you anymore. You stopped doing that when you were sixteen, remember? Then you left Remi’s place so you could learn to do things on your own, without being reliant on anyone else.”

He paused, his lips parting. When he met my eyes again, I fought the urge to look away.