as possible.
Wes slips his holster on, throws his Hawaiian shirt on over it—leaving it unbuttoned so that his chest is on full display—and slides his boxers on over his still-hard cock. “Nah, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“Like that?” I giggle, glancing down.
“What?” Wes follows my gaze to see the head of his dick staring back up at him. “It’ll calm down when the cold air hits it.” He shrugs.
“Wes,” I hesitate. “I don’t go out there … anymore.”
“Oh, you found a new spot?” he mumbles, buttoning his shirt to cover the issue. “Smart. That front entrance is pretty exposed.”
“No …” I sigh, already hearing the shakiness return to my voice.
Wes’s head snaps up, and suddenly, he’s the Ice King again. Cold. Guarded. Quietly raging and highly alert.
“What happened?” he snaps.
“Nothing. I just—”
“Bullshit. What happened?”
“Ugh! I can’t think when you get like this!”
“You don’t need to think. You need to tell me what the fuck happened.”
“I had a panic attack, okay?” I shout. “I touched the grass, and I just … I freaked out. I can’t see the trees because they remind me of home. I can’t look at the highway because it reminds me of home. I can’t leave this damn building because everything out there triggers a memory, and memories trigger the pain, and the pain triggers the panic because if I can’t shut it down immediately, it’s so big and so awful that I think it might kill me, okay?”
I take a huge breath and blow it out through my lips as Wes studies me with unaffected eyes.
“No,” he finally says, his mouth set in a hard line.
“No?”
Wes shakes his head. “No. It’s not fucking okay. Get your shoes on. We’re going outside.”
“Watch your step.”
I grip Wes’s bicep harder as I step down off the curb and into the street.
At least, I assume it’s the street.
“How’re you doing?” he asks.
“I … uh …” I check in with myself and realize that I’m actually kind of okay.
With Wes’s tank top tied around my head, I can’t see anything. All I can hear is his voice. And with my boots on, the only thing I can feel is the pavement beneath my feet and his body touching mine.
I hate it when he’s right.
“I’m … fine, I guess.”
Wes chuckles. “It’s a good thing nobody’s out here because you don’t look fine. You look like you’re being fucking kidnapped.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you kidnapped me,” I joke. “Besides, you’re too pretty to be a kidnapper. It defeats the purpose if girls go with you willingly.”
“Hold up,” Wes says, stopping to bend over and pick something up.
I hear a familiar metal rattle but can’t figure out what it is.
“So, you think I’m pretty, huh?” Wes asks as we start walking again. I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Boy, you know you’re pretty. Don’t go fishin’ for compliments.”
“Nah.” Wes snorts. “I’m ugly wrapped in a pretty package. But you …” The deep rasp in his voice vibrates all the way down my spine as Wes leans in and presses his lips to my temple. “You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.” I feel his fingertip slide down the bridge of my nose and over my mouth and chin as if he’s admiring my profile. Then, it continues lower, stopping right between my breasts. “Even in here.”
I blush, grateful for the blindfold so that I don’t have to drop my eyes in embarrassment.
“Step up.”
I do as he said and feel the asphalt turn to soft earth beneath my feet. A few feet later, he pulls me to a stop and turns me so that I’m facing something that blocks out the sun.
“We’re here. You can take your blindfold off but only look straight ahead, okay?”
“Wes, I … I’m scared.”
“I’m right here. You wanna sleep in a bed again someday? You wanna take a hot shower and eat food that wasn’t cooked over a metal barrel?”
I nod, feeling my heart rate skyrocket.
“Well, this is the first step, baby. Take off your blindfold.”
I take a deep breath, drawing as much strength from him as I can. I lost my mama and daddy. Wes lost his mom and sister. I was left behind by my boyfriend. Wes was rejected by thirteen different foster families. I dealt with mean girls at school. Wes was the new kid at half a dozen high schools. If he can stand out here and be ready for whatever happens next, then maybe I can too.
Sliding the ribbed tank top off