Falling Forward ✔

Chapter Fourteen - Bastien

Reece and I watch Kaila retreat silently. Somewhere in the back of my mind is a bro-code reminder, telling me to text Spencer proof-of-life. We've both been playing like shit this week and Coach has been on our asses. Not that that matters in the long run, I suppose.

So help me if I ever meet this Asher Bryce son of a bitch I will shove my fist down his throat, grab his balls, and wring him inside-out like a t-shirt.

How dare he?

How. Fucking. Dare. He.

Kaila's door clicks shut. I'm so fucking pissed at this faceless, dickless prick that I want to spit, scream, break something. I don't, though. Plenty of time later. Reece is more important right now.

Reece sighs, drawing my attention away from contemplating murder. She scoops her discarded blanket up from the floor. The movement lets her top droop forward to expose pale, perky breasts peaked with petal pink nipples.

The roiling in my blood shifts, simmers for an entirely different reason. Then she emits this adorable yelp, spins away from me with her arms clutched to her chest. I keep my gaze carefully on her face as she flops down on the sofa.

The outburst looks like it exhausted her. The dark rings under her eyes are more prominent, her lips dry and cracked. Silvery scars dance over the skin of her wrists, her legs, her belly.

I've never seen her look more beautiful.

Unconsciously, I rub the tiny bite her knuckles made against my chest. I'm glad she lashed out, hit me, yelled at me. And not just because hockey players like it rough. She was fighting back.

Good.

"Is that all?" I clarify, toeing off my shoes and moving to sit beside her. "You were mad?"

My temper has receded back into its black box. I feel oddly hollow, but warm. Desire burns in my fingertips to nurture and cherish. I need her to know more than pain and darkness. I want to be the one to show her.

She takes that full lower lip between her teeth. It's everything I can do not to kiss her while she weighs her answer.

"No," she emits on a shaky breath.

I reach for her slowly. When she doesn't immediately withdraw, I tuck a silken strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "No?"

"I didn't want to explain." She fixes her gaze on the TV, eyes growing distant. "Didn't want you to know the truth."

I give her the break in eye contact even as I press, "Think I can't handle it?"

She glances to me sharply. "I didn't think I could handle it."

"How so?"

Her eyes dart to Kaila's closed door, back to me. She leans close to whisper and I catch the vague smell of eucalyptus off her hair. "I didn't want you to pity me."

"Pity you?" I repeat, absolutely confounded.

"Yes." She grits. "Kaila, my dad, treat me like I'm a porcelain doll. I'm tired of the 'poor wittle Reecie' stint they have going. I'm fucked up, I get that, but I don't..." she grips her hips hard, over the freshest scars, "... I don't want to be pathetic."

I burst out laughing before I can help it.

Reece gapes at me like I suddenly broke out into song and dance—which wouldn't be entirely out of character for me. "What's so funny?"

"You? Pathetic?" She frowns when I emit another guffaw. "Hardly."

She gestures to the empty air beside her, like there's a storyboard with her entire sordid past there for me to review. "Did you not hear anything I just said?"