watery, and so blue from the reflection of the pool in front of us. “You need to let me tell you this. And I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty or place blame. What happened, happened. I just . . . never told anyone this before, and if we are going to . . .” He licked his lips and shook his head. “You need to know this.”
“Okay.” The word was a toneless croak in my throat.
“So I went. And I took some shots to get over my nerves. Tequila. Because I wanted to be cool. And I danced and laughed and kissed boys.” He closed his eyes. “It was a blur. I look back now and I can taste the tequila and I can feel sweaty skin and pounding base and hardness grinding into me. And I can smell the bodies. See the strobe lights.” His eyes popped open and he finally looked at me. “I guess I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand the hook-up culture in clubs like that. I’d gotten separated from the other guys . . .”
Rage flashed through me, hot and sudden, because I knew those guys. They should have been watching out for Landry. As a sophomore, he’d been five nine, having grown a couple of inches since, and he’d been a buck thirty, maybe. But his size didn’t matter as much as his naivety.
“And there was this guy—the worst part is, I can’t remember his name. Started with a ‘B’—so, Brad? Or something?”
Bastard.
In my head he was Bastard, because part of me knew what was coming next.
“He was bigger than me and had dark hair and . . .” He gulped. “Gray eyes.”
He twisted that knife in my gut. I shut my own silver-gray eyes that Landry always talked about and turned my face away. My heart beat painfully against the bricks stacked in front of it.
“And he kissed me and it felt good, so I kissed back. But then we were in the bathroom and alone and I started to get nervous, but he told me I was pretty and he liked my eyes.”
Please. Please. Please. Just no.
“And then he slipped on a condom and he pressed on my shoulders and I thought, well, I guess if I suck at sucking, no big deal since I didn’t even know the guy. And it was okay at first. I mean, I was drunk but I tried and he seemed to like it. But it was difficult because he was big and the latex tasted awful.”
I had to hold him, so I reached my arm toward his shoulders, but he pulled away. “Please don’t touch me while I’m telling this story.”
I lowered my hand, then quickly grabbed his, and squeezing his fingers, pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist and released him. “Okay, go on.”
He blinked slowly, his long lashes fluttering. He rubbed the inside of his wrist where my lips had touched and then reclasped his hands around his knees.
“So I guess he didn’t like what I was doing anymore, because he pulled my hair. When I stood up, he spun me around. And then my pants were at my knees and he was doing something behind me and then I felt him. Right
there
.”
I wanted to close my eyes, hide my face in my hands, but Landry was brave enough to tell this story, so I had to be brave enough to face him, look him right in those pain-filled eyes as he talked. Because he held my gaze, like I was his lifeline, like if I looked away, his strength would snap like a rubber band.
“I wanted to say no. I did. But my lips were numb from . . . from . . .” Landry shook his head. “Then he grabbed my hips and pressed. And it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad, and I screamed.”
I swore I felt the pain in my own body, a searing burn from the inside out. How Landry wasn’t crying, I had no idea. In fact, his eyes were dry, but they hadn’t left mine.
“So he stopped pushing. I mean, I don’t even know if he actually . . . entered me. And then he swore and told me I was a fucking tease. And then he shoved me and walked out. I sat there on the floor and I . . . I don’t know. I put myself together because all I could think about was seeing you again, knowing you’d . . . do that thing you
“Okay.” The word was a toneless croak in my throat.
“So I went. And I took some shots to get over my nerves. Tequila. Because I wanted to be cool. And I danced and laughed and kissed boys.” He closed his eyes. “It was a blur. I look back now and I can taste the tequila and I can feel sweaty skin and pounding base and hardness grinding into me. And I can smell the bodies. See the strobe lights.” His eyes popped open and he finally looked at me. “I guess I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand the hook-up culture in clubs like that. I’d gotten separated from the other guys . . .”
Rage flashed through me, hot and sudden, because I knew those guys. They should have been watching out for Landry. As a sophomore, he’d been five nine, having grown a couple of inches since, and he’d been a buck thirty, maybe. But his size didn’t matter as much as his naivety.
“And there was this guy—the worst part is, I can’t remember his name. Started with a ‘B’—so, Brad? Or something?”
Bastard.
In my head he was Bastard, because part of me knew what was coming next.
“He was bigger than me and had dark hair and . . .” He gulped. “Gray eyes.”
He twisted that knife in my gut. I shut my own silver-gray eyes that Landry always talked about and turned my face away. My heart beat painfully against the bricks stacked in front of it.
“And he kissed me and it felt good, so I kissed back. But then we were in the bathroom and alone and I started to get nervous, but he told me I was pretty and he liked my eyes.”
Please. Please. Please. Just no.
“And then he slipped on a condom and he pressed on my shoulders and I thought, well, I guess if I suck at sucking, no big deal since I didn’t even know the guy. And it was okay at first. I mean, I was drunk but I tried and he seemed to like it. But it was difficult because he was big and the latex tasted awful.”
I had to hold him, so I reached my arm toward his shoulders, but he pulled away. “Please don’t touch me while I’m telling this story.”
I lowered my hand, then quickly grabbed his, and squeezing his fingers, pressed a kiss to the inside of his wrist and released him. “Okay, go on.”
He blinked slowly, his long lashes fluttering. He rubbed the inside of his wrist where my lips had touched and then reclasped his hands around his knees.
“So I guess he didn’t like what I was doing anymore, because he pulled my hair. When I stood up, he spun me around. And then my pants were at my knees and he was doing something behind me and then I felt him. Right
there
.”
I wanted to close my eyes, hide my face in my hands, but Landry was brave enough to tell this story, so I had to be brave enough to face him, look him right in those pain-filled eyes as he talked. Because he held my gaze, like I was his lifeline, like if I looked away, his strength would snap like a rubber band.
“I wanted to say no. I did. But my lips were numb from . . . from . . .” Landry shook his head. “Then he grabbed my hips and pressed. And it hurt. It hurt so fucking bad, and I screamed.”
I swore I felt the pain in my own body, a searing burn from the inside out. How Landry wasn’t crying, I had no idea. In fact, his eyes were dry, but they hadn’t left mine.
“So he stopped pushing. I mean, I don’t even know if he actually . . . entered me. And then he swore and told me I was a fucking tease. And then he shoved me and walked out. I sat there on the floor and I . . . I don’t know. I put myself together because all I could think about was seeing you again, knowing you’d . . . do that thing you
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