Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
It sounds so pathetic coming from my mouth.
Makes me hate myself.
That version of me.
So weak in the face of someone taking advantage of me.
I feel like I just laid bare the truth that I’m someone who got so close to giving up.
Underneath years of acting like I’m better than that, like nothing can get to me, and that I’d rage before I’d ever let anyone hurt me.
But that afternoon, I broke.
Ollie furrows his brow. “What?”
I hate how scared his voice sounds.
I squeeze his hand hard, and now it feels like I’m holding onto him in hopes that he won’t disappear.
Don’t see me differently.
God, please don’t pity me.
“I wasn’t trying to end my life. I mean that, Oliver.”
“But…”
“But I didn’t know how tall the cliff was, or how rocky it would be at the bottom. I gashed the back of my head on a jutting edge nearby, saw blood spilling out around me, and passed out shortly afterward.”
“Oh my God.”
“Callum got me to the hospital and they gave me stitches. Luckily, the concussion was short-lived.”
“Niko.”
I gasp as Oliver lunges forward, wrapping his arms around my shoulders in a hug.
When I feel a tiny, hot wet spot at the back of my neck, I realize he’s crying.
What?
When has anyone ever cried for me?
“Ollie, I’m fine. There’s a gnarly scar under my hair at the back, but I’m fine.”
He’s clutching me so close.
“Callum deserves to die,” he says, with the smallest, quiet intake of a sob. He grips me tight, not letting go. “I’m so glad you’re okay. What the fuck? God, what the fuck—”
He trails off as he holds me, and my heart pounds in my chest.
I don’t know what I’m feeling.
But the way Oliver is holding me makes me feel like I’m solid, present, for the first time, while I’m thinking about the incident.
Like I exist, and his touch is proof of that.
18
Oliver
Oliver, checking CamboyChaos in the bathroom, 90 minutes ago
Username: Hercules2210
He’s been too busy to post.
And even I miss his videos and pictures, despite being in the same room as him all the time lately.
I tap out a comment for the first time in a while, even though it feels strange now.
Hercules2210: Take all the time you need. Take care of yourself, Dragonfly.
After Niko and I have been alone in the living room for a couple of minutes, the sound of footsteps on the hardwood comes back toward us.
My brother’s coming back, and I pull in a sharp breath of air, collecting myself.
I use the back of my hand to wipe off a stray tear, and I lean away from him.
“Thank you,” I tell him softly. “For trusting me.”
Even after everything he just said, Niko smiles softly at me. “Who says I trust you, boyfriend?”
I puff out a breathy laugh and try to act normal.
He’s here.
He’s still here, and he could have… not been.
And that makes me feel far too many things, all at once.
Niko leans back onto the couch, pulling away from me and bringing out his phone, trying to act normal again, too.
And something about it seems like a gift, now.
Something simple.
Him, sitting next to me on my family’s couch, looking so jaw-droppingly beautiful that it practically hurts to witness him.
Alive.
Knowing that I may never have gotten to do all this with him… it’s unthinkable. I want to reach out and hold him, keep him close for the rest of the night. For the rest of my fucking life.
And a hot, heavy feeling lands in my chest.
I’m falling for Niko.
I’m completely, idiotically falling for a man who has no potential of ever becoming my actual boyfriend.
Adrenaline courses through my body, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. But even glancing at Niko’s eyelashes is suddenly making me feel weak, like I have to stay close to him or everything else in my life will feel wrong.
How could anyone ever hurt him?
And how can I make sure it never fucking happens again?
When Aaron comes back to the living room, Niko’s idly looking down at his phone screen, checking Instagram as we lean back on the couch.
“Yo, that picture was fresh,” Aaron says, his eyes instantly glued to Niko’s phone screen as he plops down next to him. “What is that?”
“My Insta,” Niko says.
I clear my throat.
“And you don’t need to look at it,” I attempt to interject.
But Niko just shrugs, handing Aaron the phone. “It’s fine.”
My brother’s presence is at least tying me back down to Earth, after I’d felt like I was floating into the goddamn stratosphere.
Aaron scrolls through Niko’s Insta page.
Usually, I’d be worried that an X-rated notification might pop up on Niko’s phone, but before we went on this trip, Niko went through his settings and muted and locked down every potentially bad notification on his phone. It’s safe.
But I still would rather not have my brother looking through Niko’s Instagram, anyway.