Page 66 of Striking Range

I am present—I am with Ashley.

I tongue over her clit, suck it against my tongue as two fingers slip inside of her. She’s wet, tight, and warm; everything that would normally excite me.

“Oh, fuck. That feels so good,” she cries as I pump my fingers, curling against her walls as I devour her.

But there’s no enthusiasm. Every time I think of how lackluster this feels for me, she must feel it too. She has to know; women are intuitive creatures. But she entertains me anyway; she lets me continue, though she does not get close—not without my desire being at play as well.

Eventually I pull off of her, crawling back up the length of her body and capturing her mouth with mine. And as if she’s testing me, seeing if I really want it, she cups me over my jeans.

And of course, as I’ve been reminding myself all night, I’m soft.

“Everett.” She sounds stern, almost irritated. “You’re not hard. What’s going on?”

I sit back on my heels, staring down at her. “I don’t… I…”

But I don’t know what to say. After doing this dance with her for so many days, after the dates and the phone calls and the sex, lying feels like a cruelty I can spare her. I don’t want to be mean anymore—not when she’s so kind.

I kind of wish she were a bad person.

“Is it me?” she asks.

“What?! No!” And I’m not lying, because it’s not. It never was.

It has never been her, and that’s the problem.

“Then… is it someone else?” Her question feels like a bullet to the chest, and as I don’t answer, she sits up. And she must see the tortured look in my eyes because her face softens as she cups my cheek and adds, “What’s hurting you, Ev? Tell me. I’m not mad, I promise.”

“I can’t.” I swallow back the rising tears and close my eyes. “It’s… I just can’t.”

“Is it someone I know? Is it unrequited?”

“I actually don’t know if it’s unrequited because I can’t… I can’t be with them.” My voice is shaky.

Ashley is too insightful for her own good as she says, “It is a guy?”

My eyes shoot open in shock and obvious fear, but Ashley just smiles. And because I have issues and crave love and warmth and understanding, the tears fall.

“I can’t want him. I’m not allowed to. They won’t let me.” It’s a choked-out sob, a desperate admission to the girl I’m supposed to love—the girl I’m supposed to bring home.

“Allowed? Everett, no one can tell you who to love but you. I know I’m not in your position, but…” She runs a finger over my black eye, acknowledging it. “You should know that there is nothing wrong with loving another man. And unless you want to regret it for the rest of your life, don’t let anyone or anything stop you from telling him.”

“But I’ll lose the only family that’s ever wanted me,” I confess, letting her soothe me—letting her hear my dirtiest truth; one that no one else has ever heard outside of my own mind.

Ashley rests her forehead against mine. “Is he not your family? This boy you love so much you feel like you’re dying?”

Something deep inside of me rattles, breaks open, cuts deep. I want to shatter onto the floor like an antique vase, like a priceless China dish set. I want to disappear.

How stupid am I? And how stupid is this cruel world?

“But what if I’ve already fucked it up?” I murmur. “What if I’ve already hurt him? I… What if I’m a bad guy?”

Ashley pulls away from me, her expression still kind but now also stern and motherly as she places a hand over my heart. “Everett, do you actually want to figure this out? Do you want to run to him and tell him you want him, or do you want to sit in this misery?”

I stare at her, unsure how to respond. Beyond the realization that I want Skylar more than anything else, I didn’t consider how comfortable I’ve become with being miserable.

Ashley continues, saying, “From where I’m sitting, it sounds an awful lot like you’re content to hang onto the misery. I think it’s safer for you to feel this pain than to step out onto the ledge. Maybe you should consider that piece for a while.”

Ashley leaves not long after our heart-to-heart. We never had much time anyway.