Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 437(@300wpm)
The one I did help.
The one I did rescue.
Everything I couldn’t do for Brooke was staring me in the fucking face, looking deep into my eyes, and thanking me. She didn’t have to express any words, the gratitude translated through her penetrating stare. The confusion and hurt that I felt for someone that I ended up destroying, and for a moment, I was at peace. The voices, the regret, the pain, the hurt, the images, my regret, it was all gone.
Muted.
Placed on hold.
I pulled her hair away from her face to admire her Bambi eyes, and she leaned in and kissed me. I’m not going to lie; it shocked me. It started off innocently enough, until her tongue made its way into my mouth, and the taste of her reminded me of Brooke. She moaned into my mouth, and the rest was history.
I didn’t know why she came to me, all I knew was that I wanted to forget, and I had a feeling that she did too.
So we used one another.
We took each other’s clothes off, barely making it into my bedroom. We explored each other’s bodies in a way I never imagined would happen.
She panted, “Please… please… please… make it go away… make it all go away… please…”
It was so desperate.
So dark.
Exactly like my dream.
I could help her.
I could take away her pain.
I could rescue her.
I could save her.
It was so comforting for me, and in that moment it’s what I needed. It may have been wrong, it may have been right. I didn’t think about the consequences. I let myself live in that second, where we each took what the other had to give; to offer. Consoling each other the best way we knew how. I did with each caress, push and pull, kiss, movement, breath, sigh, groan and moan. Every last bit of it was replaced with tender love and care.
I made her safe.
I made her feel loved.
I made her feel wanted.
For an instant, I was so utterly caught up in the moment that I thought I might have loved her.
Was it Ysabelle all along?
She came with her release, and I quickly followed. We locked eyes… it was gone.
I saw Brooke, and I knew she saw Sebastian.
She broke down crying, almost taking me right there with her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
<>D<>
“Shhh… shhh… shhh… it’s okay,” I whispered as she was cradled in my arms. “That’s it… take deep breaths… in and out… yes. Just like that. Breathe in and breathe out. Shhh… you’re okay. I’m here… everything is going to be okay, Kid.”
She moved away from me, taking the sheet with her to cover herself. “Oh my God, what the fuck did I just do?”
“It’s okay.”
“It is NOT okay, Devon; it is so far from okay, it’s like on the other side of the planet,” she irrationally laughed.
“Kid, I think you’re having a panic attack or maybe a nervous breakdown. You just need to relax,” I coaxed.
“So I decide fucking you was the answer. Jesus Christ… I’m such a whore.”
“Stop. Stop talking about yourself like that. I read it wrong, I thought… I don’t know what I thought,” I explained, shaking my head. “But it’s my fault, too. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. It takes two to tango.”
“It doesn’t matter! We just had sex. I’m so fucked. Sebastian is never going to forgive me.”
“Kid, you and him aren’t together. You didn’t cheat on him,” I reasoned.
“It doesn’t fucking matter. It’s you. And me. Why would I do this? Why would I fuck up the only good thing in my life? I’m not a good person. I don’t know who I am, Devon.”
“You need to calm down, you’re talking in circles. I can’t understand you.”
“I need to go.”
She jumped off the bed to find her clothes, and swiftly put everything on, running for the door. I flew out in front of her, blocking her exit with my jeans barely on.
“You’re not going anywhere, you can barely talk, let alone drive,” I rationalized.
“Stop trying to save me!”
“Ysabelle, this isn’t about saving you. I’m not prince charming; I just fucked my best friend, and didn’t even realize that she wasn’t in the mental capacity to do so. Do you have any idea how awful I feel? I’m sorry.”
“This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I came on to you.”
“And I accepted it.” I paused. “Just relax, we both fucked up. Equally. It’s not a big deal. Now calm down, take a seat, and tell me what the hell is going on. Please,” I added.
She nodded.
I pointed toward my living room, and she went and sat on the couch. I came in a few minutes later with tea and water.
“It’s chamomile,” I said.
She drank the whole thing in one gulp like it was a shot of whiskey.
“What happened?”
She sighed. “I don’t even know where to start.”