Page 72 of Total Exposure

That’s when I notice she’s wearing the fucking necktie blindfold.

What the hell?

Did she do that—why did she do that?

Did she want me to come up here? Was she hoping I’d be watching, see her put it on, and understand that was her way of calling me to her bed?

I want to touch her.

Without second-guessing my urge, I walk over to the bed and sit down. She shifts position, but doesn’t wake.

A few strands of hair are plastered to her cheek from sweat, or tears, or both. I reach over and pull them away so I can see her better.

“Stay,” she whispers. “Please. I just… I just want someone to stay with me. I’m so tired of being alone. That’s all I wanted from today. A chance to be with someone.”

I sigh. Loudly.

“I’m sorry. This… I never wanted anyone to see me like that again. It was childish and stupid. And if you walk out…” She sighs. “I’ll understand if you walk out.”

I want to talk to her so bad, but that will fuck up the illusion. It’s one thing to chat with her through a crackling intercom, and quite another to do it in person.

So I can’t. I take her hand instead. Squeeze. She squeezes back and beings to cry again. “Sleep next to me,” she says. “Please.”

It’s not a request. It’s a… it’s a plea. For help, I realize. That’s why she’s here. She needs help. She’s sick. Not dying. But yeah, she’s dying. She’s suffocating in her small world. She’s withering like a fading flower. Like the last ember in a fire just seconds away from being extinguished. And even though I’m not the help she’s looking for, I’m all she’s got tonight.

So I kick off my shoes, lift my shirt over my head and toss it aside, and slip under the covers next to her.

Fingertips reach for me immediately, testing out the boundaries of my body. They flutter over my chest, trace down my ribs, and press against the taut muscles of my stomach.

I suck in air, hating myself for what I’m gonna do next.

Because I’m gonna fuck her.

I’m a dick for doing it because she’s weak right now. She’s depending on me and this feels like taking advantage of her.

And maybe it is.

But I want her and when was the last time I allowed myself to take something I wanted? When was the last time I didn’t put someone else first?

Besides, she wants me too.

Chapter Twenty-Three - Evangeline

I have to bite my lip and hold my breath to keep the sobs inside. And it’s not because I’m unhappy. I’m so relieved he didn’t walk out it overwhelms me. I’m not sure what to expect when I reach for him.

That’s a lie.

I know what I expect. I’m just hoping he disappoints me. Because I have conditioned myself to expect the worst in people. I expect to be treated badly. I expect to be left alone. I expect to be forgotten.

He doesn’t push me away, but he doesn’t take control either. When he doesn’t try to dominate me the way he has been since I arrived—I want to cry harder, not less.

I suck in a deep gulp of air instead.

Calm down, Evangeline.

But I can’t. The tantrum I threw downstairs is too fresh, the memories it brings back too raw, too humiliating for me to forgive myself.

So I concentrate on his body. The thump of his heart. The peaks and valleys of his ribs. The hard muscles of his stomach as he too takes a deep breath.