SERENA
Though she wasn't there when I went to sleep, the next morning I woke to Kaylee lying flat on her back on the bed, her feet in the air. She was painting her toenails a sparkly green, and she swung them over the side of the bed when I opened my eyes, disregarding the fact that they were shiny and wet.
“I haven’t seen you for like, two days!” She squealed and bent to pry the twists of toilet paper out from between her toes. With a little butt wiggle, she bounced the few steps to where I slept and seated herself cross legged at the foot of the bed, staring up at me expectantly.
“Yes?” I drew the word out as I raked fingers through my sleep snarled hair, propping myself up on my elbows. Despite the fact that she liked to party, Kaylee was an early riser, and entirely too perky about it.
It was difficult to face her before eleven, and even more so without coffee.
To distract those laser beam bright eyes from their focus on me, I made a show of yawning. “Do we have any instant coffee left?”
“Yep.” As I’d predicted, my Energizer Bunny of a best friend hopped off the bed and moved to the kettle that sat on our shared dresser. We tried to keep it filled with tap water so we could have tea and the not-so fabulous instant coffee that at least provided a jolt of caffeine, though Kaylee bitched about it every single time.
I sat the rest of the way up in bed, rubbing sleep from my eyes and finger combing my hair into a loose braid. I watched blearily as Kaylee scooped brown granules into my mug, then a scoop of powdered skim milk, then boiling water.
“I don’t know how you can drink this without sugar.” She wrinkled her nose as she brought me the mug. “It’s nasty enough even with it.”
“Not all of us are naturally svelte.” I made a face at her as I accepted the mug. Kaylee, I knew, had never worked out a day in life and loved cheesecake, pasta, and French fries from McDonald’s. It was hard to be mad at her about it when she constantly bemoaned the fact that my boobs were bigger than hers. “Thanks.”
“Now that diversionary tactic is over with,” She plopped back down on my bed in the exact place she’d been before I’d requested coffee. “Spill, bitch. Where’d you go the night of the party? What was up with that guy you were dancing with? Who is he? Is he a student? He was sexy as fuck!”
“Whoa, Nelly.” I held up a hand against the onslaught, even as guilt washed over me. I shouldn’t have left her at the party, even if she was hanging out with Joel. Not very best friend-y of me
Figuring I needed the caffeine to get me through the grand inquisition, I gulped at the liquid, hissing when it seared my tongue.
Kaylee huffed with impatience as I stuck my tongue out, trying to cool it.
“I’m sorry.” Once I could speak, I bit my lip and looked up at her. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
Kaylee huffed out an impatient breath, then stole my cup for a sip.
“Yuck. Why do we buy this shit?” Even though she proclaimed disgust, she chugged half the mug of watery coffee. “And that’s not the part I’m so interested in. I was with Joel. He doesn’t drink, you know that. I was fine.”
“And how is that going?” I didn’t really have any hope of distracting her for any length of time, but any extra second I could get was golden. I didn’t know what I was thinking or feeling about Alex myself, let alone how to put it into words for someone else.
Kaylee rolled her eyes. “After I’d had a few too many sips of that punch, we made out. He groped my boobs a bit, which was great, and then started in on the true love crap.”
I hid a smile behind the mug as I drained it, then pulled a pillow to my lap and wrapped my arms around it. Joel and Kaylee had been on and off for over two years. He was a nice guy, but he wanted to get serious—like engagement ring serious—which skeeved Kaylee right the hell out.
“So. The hottie.” Reaching over, she drummed her fingers on my knees, then, apparently deciding they were boring compared to her toes, reached for a bottle of metallic purple polish that clashed horribly with the glittery green and began to stroke it onto her fingernails. “He’s on the football team, isn’t he? I’m sure I’ve seen him around.”
“Well... what do you want to know?” I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. Kaylee squeaked when I jostled the bottle of polish, grabbing it before it could spill all over my navy bedspread. “And yes, he is.”
Who had she seen him around with? Asking would just solidify the feelings that were rioting around inside of me.
“Start at the beginning. Where’d you meet him? Why’d you let him dance with you?” Her words were eager. I sighed, hummed, and was treated with a stern look. After gnawing my lower lip with my teeth until it felt raw, I realized that resistance was futile.
“He... he’s in my American Lit class.” I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I could tell Kaylee anything, anything at all, and I knew it, but for some reason I really didn’t want to talk about Alex. Telling her about him would mean explaining why I was so conflicted... and that would mean telling her things that were best left buried.
Well, she’d just have to think I was weird for being conflicted, then, because of all the people in the world, she wouldn’t be able to relate to my past. She’d care—oh, she’d absolutely care. But Kaylee was too sweet, too full of sunshine to darken with my secret.
“And?” Kaylee shook her head as she screwed the lid back onto the bottle of polish. “I swear, it’s like trying to get you to talk about a trip to the dentist, instead of some action with that stone cold fox.”
I felt myself blushing. “There’s no action!”
She pinned me with a look. “That ass of his is... gah. I wanted to bite it. If there wasn’t any action, I’m taking you straight to the nearest convent.”
I couldn’t help but snort out a laugh.
“Okay... there’s been a bit of action.” Remembering how his hand had felt on my breast, his thumb playing with my nipple, made heat wash over me. Kaylee squealed when she noted my blush and clapped her hands together.
“Action? You? Stop stalling, and fess up. Now.” She bounced up and down on the bed, grinning. “Oh, man. He’s the one who has all those cheerleaders trailing after him all the time, isn’t he? And he’s hot for you. Oh, that’s just delicious!”
Rolling my eyes, I sucked in a breath, I told her about being late for class, and about meeting Alex outside the classroom. I told her about how he’d shown up at the party and about the puppy play session the night before.
I even told her about the steamy make out session in the parking lot. By the time I’d finished, her jaw was hanging open, and it seemed I’d accomplished the impossible—Kaylee Sawyer was speechless.
“What?” I hugged the pillow in my lap tightly. “It’s not a big deal or anything. He didn’t say he was going to call me again.”
But I knew he would. Whatever this was between us, he was feeling it too.
“I just... I mean... wow, Serena.” Kaylee fisted her hands in the length of her strawberry colored curls and tugged gently. “He must be special.”
I tensed.
“Why would you say that? I barely know him.” Shoving the pillow aside, I pushed back the covers and swung my legs out of bed.
“Serena.” Kaylee’s voice was beseeching enough that I stopped and turned back to look at her.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just—you don’t date. You don’t go to parties. You don’t even like most people. I don’t know why, but I know there’s a reason. So you venturing out of your comfort zone is... I just meant... he must be pretty awesome.”
I bent to pick up my shower caddy from where it sat on the floor, using my hair to hide the mist that filmed my eyes. When they were clear I stood up again.
“He’s... different.” I admitted, fingering the rough terrycloth of my towel. “And I don’t really know why he’s fixated on me. Maybe I’m just a challenge.”
“Don’t even.” Kaylee was indignant as she reached for the pillow I’d tossed aside and pulled it to herself the same way I’d held it. “I saw the way he was looking at you. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. Like he was undressing you with his eyes. Also like he couldn’t quite figure you out.”
“See? That’s what I mean. I’m a challenge.” It stung to hear Kaylee say it. Though I knew better than to get involved with anyone, and though I didn’t have any expectations in terms of our time together, I didn’t like the idea that Alex might discard me as soon as he’d caught me.
“I wasn’t done.” Startled by the fierce tone, I looked up to find Kaylee glaring at me, indignation written all over her face. “You’re a challenge, make no doubt about that. But he was also looking at you like you were a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve. There’s more there than just the lust, girlfriend, though it looked like there was plenty of that too.”
I let out a strangled noise of frustration from my throat. “I’m going to shower.”
I had my hand on the door before Kaylee said anything else, and then she spoke so softly that I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right.
“You can tell me, you know.”
“Tell you what?” I didn’t turn, and kept my hand flat on the cool surface of the door.
“What happened to you, why you keep most people out.” I had never heard this tone in her voice before, that streak of vulnerability, and it was tempting, so tempting to turn and puke out the entire sad tale.
What would it be like, I wondered, to tell someone who might care? To share the burden, just a bit?
“If I tell you, you won’t see me the same way. I guarantee it.” This was the closest I’d ever come to admitting that I had a past.
The closest I would ever come.
Grabbing the handle of the door, I turned it and pulled. Just before I left the room, I heard Kaylee, one last time.
“Not as untarnished as you think.”
SERENA
What are you doing tonight?
It had been a full forty eight hours since the night at the shelter—the night Alex had kissed me senseless. I’d caught a glimpse of him in class, but he came after I got there and left before I did.
It was maddening. Though I’d told myself it didn’t matter, I’d waited, and I’d wondered why he hadn’t called.
I’d thought about calling him, but the stubborn part of me said that I’d called last time. It was his turn. If he wasn’t interested, I was certainly not going to throw myself at him.
When the text came through I nearly swallowed my tongue with excitement. I’d just come back to the room from a shower, and was dripping wet and shivering, but I dropped my shower caddy and picked up the phone with fumbling fingers, typing out a reply.
Well, I’ve washed my hair and that was the big excitement of my day.
I waited for the reply, biting my lip with excitement when it came.
American Lit was the highlight of my day.
I sucked in a breath.
Could have been better if you’d come to say hi.
I held my breath as I hit send. I wasn’t normally so bold, but something about Alex erased my inhibitions.
Very remiss of me. I must make it up to you.
What did you have in mind?
Can I cook you dinner?
So I found myself in the lobby of the apartment building he’d given me directions to two hours later, my nerves a series of pinpricks that danced over my skin.
As I pressed my finger against the buzzer to Alex’s apartment, I remembered his lips slanting over mine nights earlier and shivered. It was new for me, this... this wanting. I couldn’t believe that I’d gone so long without it.
I just wanted to embrace it now. I’d been in the shadows for so long—I wanted to live.
“Hey.” How could one syllable be so sexy? But that was Alex all over, a bundle of mouth-watering contradictions.
Tattooed bad ass. All-American athlete. Lover of puppies.
Was it any wonder that I couldn't stay away?
"Come on up." He buzzed me through the front door, and I climbed the flights of stairs to his third floor apartment, then wished I hadn't. The wisps of my hair suck to my forehead with perspiration as I knocked on his front door. When he opened it, wearing faded blue jeans and a deep blue shirt that was only buttoned halfway up, I couldn't tell if the pounding of my pulse in my veins was from the vigorous climb or from the sight of his rock solid chest.
I followed him into his apartment nervously, my heart stuttering in my chest when he bent to press a soft kiss against my left temple. My lips parted of their own accord. I expected to pick up where we'd left off last night in the parking lot, his tongue trailing down my neck and his thumb strumming my nipple, but the soft brush of his lips on my skin was all the physical contact he gave me.
Confused and needy, I looked up at him, and received a wide grin in return.
"How do you feel about board games?" Linking his fingers loosely in mine, Alex pulled me through the small apartment. "I'd give you the grand tour, but there's not much to see."
"Board games?" I followed him into a small, galley style kitchen. Even with just the two of us in it, it was a tight fit.
"You know. Monopoly. Cranium."
I squeaked when he suddenly clasped his hands around my waist and lifted me up until my butt brushed against the counter. I couldn't help but gape at the way his biceps rippled when he lifted me.
"Yahtzee. Especially Yahtzee."
"You invited me over to play Yahtzee?" I knew that my past experience with the male species was incredibly skewed, but I would never have guessed this.
"That, and to dazzle you with my amazing culinary prowess." He squeezed my waist before he let go, his fingers lingering just a second too long.
"You're cooking for me?" My mouth fell open as Alex opened the oven. After donning cherry red and white striped oven mitts, he pulled out a battered ceramic casserole dish, which he carefully placed on the stove top.
"I hope you like pasta." When he turned towards me again, still wearing those ridiculously over-sized oven mitts, I felt my heart do a wobbly flip flop in my chest.
"I do." Before I could prevent it, I felt my nose clog and my eyes sheen with a hint of impending tears. Mortified, I slapped my hand over my mouth, pressing hard, trying to discourage the flow.
I couldn't break into tears just because a boy was being nice to me. I was better than that.
But...
"You're so nice." I could hear the incredulity in my voice, as well as the wobble from emotion. "I..." I trailed off, not sure what to say.
Alex's face darkened, and he looked down at the oven mitts.
"Nice." His voice held a hint of disbelief. I bit into my lower lip, wondering if I'd said the wrong thing. "You think I'm... nice."
"Yes." I had to force the word through a thick throat. I eyed him warily as he cast his eyes up and down my body in a way that was anything but nice.
"Serena, I have to tell you something." He stalked—there was no other way to describe the movement—the few steps towards me, insinuating himself between my thighs as I sat on the counter. I gasped when I found my knees pressing into his waist.
He placed one hand flat on each of my knees, his thumb massaging the sensitive skin, then leaned in until our lips were almost touching.
"I—what?" I couldn't think when he was touching me. “I’m... I’m not used to nice.”
"Guys don't like being called nice." Bypassing my lips, he bent his head and pressed a hot, damp kiss to the hollow of my throat. I threaded my fingers through his thick dark hair, my entire body clenching with need.
I began to pant when he slid those lips down and over the upper swell of each breast. When he kissed his way back up my shoulder, my neck, then nipped at my ear, I groaned.
"Being nice is right up there with being called cute. Or maybe being told we have a great personality," he said. Suckling the lobe of my ear into his mouth for just a second, he released me and stepped back, leaving me with my head reeling.
My fingers clutched at the edges of the counter as I stared at him, trying to slow my breath back down to a normal rate. He looked back at me, his face blank, but for the barest hint of a smile that ghosted around the corners of his lips.
"That was not nice," I informed him as soon as I found my voice.
That hint of a smile broke out fully. "I was proving a point."
ALEX
Maybe I should have been insulted, but instead I found myself laughing. Nice.
If only she knew the dirty, dirty thoughts that had been circling my mind since she brushed against me at that party. If only she knew I’d thought of her that morning while I showered, taking myself in hand to give myself a bit of release.
And really—this was me. The big bad football star? Yeah, that was part of me. But this girl was the first one to see other parts of me, parts that I never showed others.
I loved board games. My foster sister and I had played them a lot when I was a teen. I’d never hauled them out with a girlfriend before, but then, every other girlfriend? Our relationships had been solely based on sex.
Maybe it was because I was graduating this year, or maybe it was because I was just growing up...
Cranium, casserole, and the hope of something more? That sounded pretty damn sexy to me.
SERENA
With a small smirk that made me wonder what he was thinking, Alex crossed the kitchen and opened a cupboard, pulling out two plain white plates and a measuring cup. After placing a generous scoop of pasta casserole onto one plate, he handed it to me.
"I have a little table set up through there." He gestured to one end of the galley kitchen. "Go ahead and get started. I'll be right there." Rather than spooning his serving right onto his plate, he put his serving into the measuring cup, filling it carefully to the two cup mark before dumping it onto his plate. I eyed him curiously. He didn't seem like the type to be on a diet.
Alex looked up and found me still standing there. "I'll just be a sec." He smiled, but the expression clearly told me that whatever he was doing, he didn't want me to see.
"Sorry." Flushing, I fled in the direction he had shown me. It didn't matter what he was doing—it wasn't any of my business. I had things I didn't intend to tell him, either.
"How is it?" Alex joined me at the table a minute later, one hand holding his plate, the other absentmindedly rubbing his side. "I've made this a million times, but I have no desire to poison a beautiful woman."
Blushing at the compliment, I ducked my head and speared a tube shaped noodle with my fork. "I haven't tried it yet."
I scooped the noodle off the fork with my lips, hissing when it hit my tongue. It was steaming hot, and I licked my lips as I rolled it around in my mouth, trying to cool it a bit before I swallowed.
As I chewed, I saw Alex watching the movements of my mouth with undisguised lust. My mouth suddenly dry, it was hard to swallow, even though the casserole was surprisingly tasty.
"It's... it's good." I whispered. He wasn't making any attempt to hide his desire from me, and I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't know what to do with him, this man who could have had any girl and yet seemed to have chosen me. This man who so clearly wanted me, and yet hadn't tried to have me yet.
At least, he hadn't yet tried to go all the way.
"Eat up." He rubbed his side again as he sat and began to eat his own meal. "You're going to need your strength if you hope to beat me at Yahtzee. Not that it will happen... but you can try."
SERENA
"This is painful for me to admit,” Alex leaned back on the couch, his hands behind his head. His smile was rueful. "That last roll is a three of a kind."
I blinked down at the dice that I'd just poured from the blue plastic cup onto the battered coffee table. I'd rolled them a full five minutes ago, but had been distracted by something Alex had said.
The single game had taken almost two hours, because we’d talked so much. We laughed. Somewhere along the line I forgot that I was supposed to be nervous and wary, and just had fun.
"It is?" Twisting at the waist, I squinted down at the five dice. Sure enough, three of them had landed with their number six sides facing up.
I looked at my score sheet, and couldn't help grinning as I crossed off the last column.
"I won!" I couldn't stop the ridiculous sense of happiness. It was just a board game... but it had been so much fun. Spirits high, I turned and poked a finger into Alex's chest. "I do believe you said that would never happen, sir."
"That I did." His movement lightning quick, he grabbed the hand that was touching his chest and tugged until my torso was bent in his direction.
"So what do I win?" The laughter faded from my lips as something dark and wicked crossed his face.
"Lady’s choice." His voice was husky, and I felt it like a flash of lightning, searing me from the inside out.
Could I do it? Could I be that bold?
I wanted to. I wanted him.
I ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them as I shored up my courage. Then, before I could lose the nerve, I pressed my lips to his, the first time that I had kissed him.
He let me lead, let me explore his mouth with my own. My breath was shuddering with nerves and repressed need as I took what I wanted, savoring the kiss, then pulled back to look at him with wide eyes.
I had never before been as vulnerable as I was in that moment. I had offered something without meaning to.
Would he take it?
"Fuck, Serena." Pressing his palms to my back, Alex pulled me to him, crushing his lips to mine again. I groaned under the assault, not protesting when he arranged me so that I straddled his lap.
Through the layers of our jeans I could feel the length of his hardened cock, proving to me just how much he wanted me. I had thought that when this moment came, I would be terrified, that I would freeze.
Instead, I pressed down without fully intending to, blind need clawing at my insides, desperate to get out now that it had been awakened.
"Yes." His voice was a low rasp as he caught the hem of my sweater in his finger and pulled the wool up to bunch above my breasts. He tried to pull it over my head, but I caught at it with my free hand.
"Just... just keep this on. Okay?" Goose bumps prickled my skin as cool air hit the exposed flesh of my belly, but they were quickly soothed by the raw heat of his kiss.
He nodded and let me arrange my sweater to where I was comfortable. I shifted, making sure that my upper arms were covered.
Satisfied, tentative, I worked my hands in between our bodies and undid the buttons of his shirt. I was slow at it, since my fingers were trembling, and we were both panting by the time I worked the shirt off of his shoulders.
"Damn." His hands cupped my waist, traced the horizontal stripes of my ribcage. Then, his eyes fixed on me to gauge my reaction, he pulled one cup of my bra down until my breast fell free of the cotton.
"Ohmigod." His fingers, were so gentle as they touched my naked nipple, made me clench my thighs on either side of his hips. "I—oh..."
"All right?" He stilled his fingers for a moment, and I arched into his touch.
"Yes. Yes, good." I panted. He chuckled, then resumed the light brushes of touch over the distended flesh. My hips rocked against his, pressing into his erection, and he hissed in a breath.
Our lips mashed together again as he gently pulled my second breast from its fabric cradle and gave it the same attention. My mind was a swirl of bright colors that were pure sensation, and I was reduced to a panting, quivering mess.
"Serena." Alex breathed my name against my neck as my fingers roamed over his broad shoulders. I could see the entirety of his tattoos, the dark swirls extending from mid bicep, up and over his shoulders, and down to his shoulder blades. I couldn't appreciate them fully, though, because the feel of his hands on my breasts had blurred my vision.
Slowly, slowly, one of his hands fell from my breast. He slid it down, over the soft curve of my stomach, and between my legs.
I gasped. I'd had hands here before—too many hands—but none of them had ever elicited so much heat. Still, I froze, unsure of what to do.
"Is this okay?" He whispered. As I looked at him, I saw that those deep blue eyes were serious and watchful. He was paying attention to what I liked, what I didn't.
He wasn't going to go further than I wanted to.
I nodded, then pressed my cheek against the curve of his shoulder. It was damp, and I inhaled the scent of his skin.
Slowly, so slowly, he rubbed his fingers between my legs, over the seam of my blue jeans. I bit back a moan. It felt so good.
Too good.
I didn't want him to stop.
I widened my stance to give him better access. The movements of his fingers were slow and sure, and I felt tension coiling up in my belly.
I traced a finger over the tattoos on his biceps as he stroked me, my head tilted back. I frowned through the heat when I felt a pucker marring the otherwise tight satin of his skin.
There... and there. Those were... scars? Yes, small, round scars that pulled tightly against the surrounding skin. They'd been hidden so skillfully by the tattoos that they were impossible to see from anywhere but this close.
He had scars. So did I.
I wondered what secret he had, that he was hiding from me.
Unbidden, the suffocating sensation rose up and began to siphon away my air. I stiffened, tried to fight through it, to stay in the moment of pleasure, but the second I tensed Alex removed his hands from what they were doing, clasping me loosely around my upper arms.
He pulled back to look at me.
"What's wrong?" I shivered for a second, looking away.
"Serena."
I couldn't help but look at him when he used that tone. His face was serious, but I knew he wanted an answer. "What happened?"
"Nothing." The lie rolled off my tongue as it had so many times before. Awkwardly, I scooped my breasts back into my bra, then tugged my sweater down. I was mortified, and with the mortification came the dark shame that had dogged me for years.
"All right." His voice had cooled, and I couldn't help but cringe at the change in his demeanor.
"Alex..." I trailed off. The look on his face was blank, and sent a pang through me.
"I can't make you trust me." He was... could he be hurt? I was puzzled by the notion, by the idea that I had enough power to do that.
"I do trust you." I whispered, looking down at my fingers.
"You trust me with your body." His voice was matter of fact. "But not with anything else. And that's fine. We haven't known each other very long."
But it wasn't fine, and I could hear it in his voice. We may not have known each other very long, but there was a connection that linked the two of us tightly, one that I had just railed against with my reluctance to share.
"I'm sorry." The last thing I expected was for Alex to chuckle. Bewildered, I looked at him, and found him leaning back, both frustration and bafflement evident on his features.
"You're complicated." He was matter of fact, not hurtful, but I flinched regardless. Slightly irritated at this comment from the guy who had just had his hands between my legs, I stood, shaking the loose strands of my ponytail into my face.
"You have no idea." I stood still for a long moment, unsure. "I should go." I had been stupid to pretend I could do something as normal as this. My throat felt thick, but I bit my tongue to prevent tears. No. No way.
I was stronger than that.
"Serena." He sounded frustrated. I peeked through my golden curtain to find Alex running his fingers through his hair, the thick strands sticking straight up from his attentions. "Sit."
I shook my head and stayed right where I was.
He heaved a sigh, then stood. "Don't go anywhere." He disappeared through the entry to the kitchen, then returned with a small drawstring bag.
Opening it, he began to pull out items, placing them one by one on the coffee table, naming them as he did.
"Blood glucose monitor. Test strips. Finger poker. Syringes. Fast acting insulin. Slow acting insulin. Glucagon." Having emptied the bag, he sat on the couch again, this time perching on the edge, his hands clasped together.
I squinted at the pile of items. I wasn't familiar with most of them, but one word had caught my attention.
"Insulin? You're diabetic?" I eyed the man who was at least six foot three, most of it muscle. He was one of the healthiest looking people I’d ever met, and I told him so.
"I have Type 1 diabetes. Insulin dependent. For diabetics, it’s something that’s going to happen from the moment of conception. When you’re diagnosed is just a matter of long your pancreas holds out.” From the way he spoke, what he was telling me was very important. "And I'm healthy right now, but I haven't been for very long."
“So... what do you do with all of... that?” I furrowed my brow and gestured towards the equipment he’d strewn across the coffee table.
He picked up the thing he’d called a blood glucose monitor. It was sheathed in a bright red rubber skin, and looked a bit like a small iPod.
“Basically, the word diabetes means sugar in the urine.” He rolled the monitor in between his palms. “Insulin is made by the pancreas, and it helps the body use foods that are broken down into sugars—basically anything with a carb count. Pasta, bread, cake, fruit. You with me?”
“Yes.” Despite my discomfort of moments before, I was interested.
“A type 1 diabetic doesn’t make insulin. When we eat something with a carb count, we have to inject ourselves with enough insulin to take care of it.” Grasping the monitor between his thumb and forefinger, he waved it in the air. “This thing tells me how good I’m doing. It tells me if my sugars are too low and I need to eat some carbs, or if they’re too high and I need some extra insulin.”
“How do you know when to use it?” The idea that this big, ridiculously masculine man in front of me had to do something like this was so strange. I thought of how he’d been measuring his portion of casserole instead of just dumping it onto the plate, and wondered if he had to do that with every meal.
“I prick a finger and use the monitor at least four times a day, sometimes more.” He placed the monitor on the table, picked up a syringe and a vial of clear liquid. “That, along with the amount of carbs I’m going to eat, tells me how much insulin I need. It’s injected into the arms, the stomach, the sides, or the ass.”
I thought of how he had been rubbing his side when he’d come to the table. He’d just injected himself.
“So... it’s controllable, right?” I felt like I was asking the dumbest questions on the planet, but I didn’t know anything about diabetes.
“It is, if you’re vigilant.” He put the syringe and vial back on the table.
“Is everyone as... vigilant... as you are?”
“No.” The word was flat, and I blinked, wondering if I’d asked the wrong thing. He forced a smile when he saw my expression, rubbing his hands on his knees.
“I’m healthy now, Serena. But... I wasn’t always.” He paused, and I knew what he was asking without words. He'd shared something with me... it was my turn.
Diabetes sucked, clearly, but I couldn’t think anything badly of him for it. It wasn’t a fair trade of information. The darkness I held inside of me... he might never want to talk to me again.
I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Something about him made me want to share, so badly.
The secret was stuck in my throat. The only person I'd ever told was the one who should have believed me no matter what. And she hadn't.
I opened my mouth to try to spit it out, but said something else entirely.
“The injections. Is that what the scars on your arms are from?”
Alex reeled back as if I’d struck him, his hand rubbing over the place in question as if the skin hurt. “No.” His voice was flat, and colder than I’d heard it.
He said nothing else.
My gaze faltered under his challenging stare. I took a step backward, then another, then turned and made my way to the door, emotions churning inside of me in a big, nauseating stew.
I didn't look back.
ALEX
I’d never told a girl about my diabetes before. I certainly wasn’t ashamed of it, but it also wasn’t something that I had great memories of, either.
Most guys my age who relied on insulin probably weren’t as vigilant about it as I was... in fact, most diabetics my age were on pumps, not relying on injections from syringes. But while Serena clearly had her own dark secrets, I did too—and there were reasons that I needed to be in complete control of my own health, not even relying on the mechanics of a pump.
Just being with Serena had made me want to spill everything about my past, and with that came a turmoil of emotion that I thought I’d long ago buried. It roiled inside of me, agitating enough that I felt dizzy.
Cursing, I didn’t even bother reaching for the blood glucose monitor this time, instead just grabbing a fresh syringe and the vial of insulin. I knew my triggers by now, was familiar with the symptoms.
No matter what most people thought about me, I hadn’t always led a privileged life. Thinking about it stressed me out so much that my blood glucose went soaring.
I drew up an extra dose, still frowning. I didn’t think Serena was the type to be scared off because of dark secrets. But, as I slid the needle through my skin and plunged the dose home, I wondered for the first time if the connection between us what just like recognizing like—dark fading into dark.
I wanted her, but only time would tell if together we could ease the pain... or if two damaged souls would only serve to drag each other down.