Believe: (Intermix) (True Believers) by Erin McCarthy

other than channel surf, with me leaning on him, his other hand stroking my hair.
    It was stupid to want him, stupid to want more.
    I should be grateful that he wasn’t taking our relationship in that direction, that he was clearly just interested in companionship or something.
    Because what the hell did I really know about him?
    But what I knew was that he made me feel like I could look people in the eye again. He made me feel like I wasn’t going to break into a thousand pieces at any given moment. He made my hands stop shaking and helped my breathing slow down.
    He made me feel like a crumbling wall that has suddenly gotten new mortar between each brick and feels stable again.
    And if he could make me feel that way, maybe I could make myself feel that way, too.

Chapter Five
    Phoenix
    Selfish asshole, that was me. I should have gone home. I should have deleted her number after we ran into Davis in the park, but man, when she looked at me like that—like she thought I was something amazing instead of a piece of shit—I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t leave.
    I couldn’t stop myself from touching her either, though I was working damn hard at making sure it was nothing more than holding hands or my arm around her.
    So maybe humping her head with my hand wasn’t exactly keeping it cool, but I’d been dying to touch her hair since the minute I’d met her, so fucking sue me for going for it. She didn’t seem to mind, which was insane. Why she wasn’t terrified of me by that point, I couldn’t figure out. No self-preservation at all.
    Except since it was working in my favor, I couldn’t exactly fault her.
    When she started to doze, pressed against me, I shook her hand a little. “Hey. Let’s go to bed. You’ll have a headache tomorrow if you sleep like this.”
    In the glowing light of the TV she glanced up at me, her eyes glassy and wide. She smiled. “Okay.”
    The urge to kiss her was so strong I felt my temple pulse as I clenched my free fist, digging nails into the flesh of my palm. I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t drag her down to my level.
    “Come on,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, even. I led her down the hallway to her little room and she stumbled along behind me.
    The bedroom was small, cell size. When I stepped inside, I felt the tension inside me getting ready to explode. The room surrounded me, trapped me, and I felt guilty for grabbing at her in my sleep that morning, for taking advantage of her niceness, for exposing her to a guy like Davis.
    For enjoying spending time with her, for wanting her so bad I could practically taste her on my tongue.
    She crawled onto the bed still in her sundress and peeled back the sheet. Once under it, she settled down onto her pillow with a sigh. Her hand reached out for mine. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”
    One, two, three small breaths out nice and slow. “In a minute,” I told her, and my voice sounded completely normal. How I had no idea. “I need to take a piss.” I leaned forward and brushed her hair back off her forehead. When my hand started to shake I pulled it back.
    “’kay.” Her eyes were already closed.
    I retreated slowly, trying not to make too much noise. I eased her door almost all the way shut, then went into the living room. Even though I wanted to punch the shit out of something, there was nothing to punch. Nothing to throw. So I did push-ups, at a grueling pace, three reps of thirty each. Then I went up and down the stairs twenty times, grateful for the old, dingy carpet so Robin couldn’t hear me.
    The doctors could take their meds and shove them up their ass. They’d made me take them in jail, and I hadn’t felt any different. Intermittent explosive disorder? Go fuck yourself.
    The only thing wrong with me was that my mom was an asshole and I’d been left on my own too much. Nothing else.
    Someday I would fall in love like every other idiot did at one time or another. I just couldn’t let it be with