Apartment 2B (7 page)

“I better go,” he says sadly and stands to leave.

Tears threaten my eyes because I don’t understand what’s overcome him. Before I realize
what I’m doing, I block his path. He steps so close to me that we’re practically touching.
His gaze is weary, and it’s as if I can see right into his soul—his very sad soul.

“Liam, please don’t go,” I whisper pleadingly. Right now, I need him just as much
as he needs me. Together, we can work through our pain. I can feel it.

Indecision wars across his face as he internally decides whether or not he should
leave.

“Please,” I repeat, hoping he’ll finally give in.

The part of him that I know seems to surface. His eyes lose the anguish in them and
are replaced with a lighter look. My heart soars at the sudden change in him.

“Okay, Sid. You win this time,” he agrees and reaches his hand up.

Eyes fluttering closed, I breathe raggedly as I prepare for his touch. He doesn’t
touch me though. I feel his cool breath against my lips, but he doesn’t press them
to mine. Instead, he tugs on my hair.

Blinking my eyes open, I see him grinning down at me. He pulls away, letting go of
my hair.

“Do you feel itchy?” he asks, chuckling.

“Huh? Oh. No, actually I don’t,” I tell him, surprised. He touched my hair and I didn’t
have a meltdown. In fact, I kind of want him to kiss me.

He motions for me to follow him. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

This time, I pick the movie. And of course, I choose Dirty Dancing. This go around,
I find myself anticipating the parts in the movie I enjoyed from last night. I’m chewing
on my nails toward the end. Liam’s laughing from beside me pulls me from obsessing
over Patrick.

“What?” I demand.

He just shakes his head, so I finish watching the movie while I ignore him. When it’s
over, I turn to him.

“That movie is so good. I love Patrick Swayze. I’m pretty sure that has to be the
best movie in the world,” I gush, completely believing my words. Part of the reason
I love it so much is because their dancing is so sexual and they touch so frequently.
I’m jealous that I can’t bring myself to allow that sort of contact from anyone.

“If you say so, Sid.” His eyes are twinkling as me makes fun of me. I want to be mad
at him, but he’s too cute for me not to smile back at him.

“You’re so mean. Liam?” I ask, turning serious.

He glances down at my lips, and a shiver runs down my spine like it always does when
he looks at me with that hungry stare.

“Yes, Sidney?”

“Tell me about yourself. I barely know you. What do you do for a living? Do you have
family?”

His eyes immediately darken at my questions, and I’m alarmed at how quickly he changes
his moods. Standing up quickly, he paces the room, running his hands through his hair
like he’s figuring out how to tell me something.

“I work from home.” Okay, well that wasn’t so bad.

“And your family?” I probe even though I know that’s the part he is having trouble
with.

“I have a brother in the army. My parents are deceased. A car crash took them from
us a year ago.”

I pull my knees to my chest and hug them. My mind races with questions, but I don’t
want to hurt him.

“I’m sorry, Liam.”

He just nods curtly but continues to pace the room. I want desperately to bring the
playful, happy Liam back. He’s so hot and cold, which royally confuses me.

“Liam, tell me about yourself. I just want to get to know you. You don’t have to tell
me the sad stuff. Tell me the happy stuff.”

Turning to look at me, he crosses his arms over his chest and appears to be thinking
of what he wants to share.

“There’s nothing to share—especially nothing happy. I’m just Liam.”

His words sting because I want nothing more than to know more about him. I don’t push
it though. Maybe eventually he’ll want to share those things with me.

“Okay, well I need to go check on the other load in the dryer, so maybe we can hang
out later,” I tell him sadly because I feel like he’s over hanging out with me.

“Yeah, sure,” he says absently and stalks out of my apartment. I’m so confused by
him right now.

Sighing, I get up and make my way toward the dreaded stairwell. I’m so busy worrying
over Liam’s behavior that I’m already in the basement before I even realize I made
it all the way down with no panicking.

I smile at my breakthrough and pull out all of the clothes from the dryer. Maybe hanging
out with Liam is good for my psyche. For the first time in over eleven years, I don’t
feel like a prisoner. Half my life, I was Momma’s prisoner. Now that I’m on my own,
I’m a prisoner of my past. Of my psychological conditions brought on by that past.
With Liam as my friend, I feel them slipping away.

“Hello again, pretty lady,” a deep voice says from behind me.

All happy, carefree thoughts immediately dissolve as his oily words soak my skin.
I spin around and come face to face with the creep from earlier. My heart is frantically
pounding as he looks at me like I’m on the menu. When he licks his lips, I step back
until my bottom hits the dryer.

“Leave me alone,” I command, feigning a stern tone.

He inches toward me, and I press myself as far as I can into the dryer, shrinking
away from him. I’m suddenly sweating profusely. Blackness eats at my vision and the
room starts to spin. When the man presses himself against me so that I feel his erection
on my belly, I pass out.

Cold water splashes my face and I jerk my eyes open. My heart pounds as I try to figure
out what’s going on. I’m lying on the floor in the basement and someone is crouched
beside me. I suddenly remember the disgusting man and scramble away from the person
in front of me.

“Leave me alone! Don’t touch me!” I shriek as I quickly stand on wobbly knees.

“Sidney, calm down! It’s me, Liam. He’s gone.”

My eyes fly to him as he stands. It is, in fact, Liam, and I’ve never wanted to hug
someone more in my life. But of course, I can’t. I’m so shaken about that man touching
me that I run to the sink and empty my stomach. Convulsions rack through my body as
I remember him pressed against me. I start to cry and my skin begins itching wildly.

“Sidney, calm down,” Liam says softly from behind me.

But I can’t calm down. I itch too badly. That man touched me. My belly where his erection
was pushed against itches the most. Immune to what’s going on around me, I slip my
hands under my dress, hitching it up past my hips, and begin furiously scratching
the skin. I can’t relieve the burn.

From the corner of my eye, I see Liam filling a bucket in the sink. I step away from
him as I continue to gouge my skin with my fingernails. My breaths are coming out
raggedly. For some reason, I can’t stop myself. I feel helpless as I continue to claw
at myself, drawing blood.

“Sidney, snap out of it!” I hear Liam shout from beside me. It doesn’t work to pull
me from my trance.

When I’m suddenly doused with a bucket full of cold water, I cry out. The icy shower
is a wakeup call, and I pull my shaky hands out from under my dress.

Liam is watching me, his eyes darting all over me as if to make sure I’m okay. He
doesn’t reach to touch me, and I’m extremely thankful. When I look down at my hands,
I frown at the blood on my fingernails.

Tearfully, I look up at him. “He touched me.” I’m shaking violently as I once again
think about his hardness smashed against me.

“Sid, get upstairs now. Come on. You’ll feel better in your apartment,” he commands.
He looks incredibly worried.

I nod and sprint out of the basement and up the stairs. His feet pound the steps behind
me.

Once I reach my apartment door, I slam the door in his face and run to the window.
I need that air like my life depends on it. With shaky hands, I lift the window and
greedily suck in the fresh air. My mind is all over the place as I try to process
what just happened. Liam must have taken the hint and backed off, because he didn’t
follow me inside.

I close the window and half-stumble to the bathroom. After yanking my dress off, I
turn on the shower and step into the cold, blissful water. I let it run over my skin,
washing away that man’s voice, touch, and scent. Tears flow as I realize that this
one incident has set me back. Way back.

Once I’m shivering, long past cleaning, I turn off the water. I quickly dry off and
make a beeline toward my bed, naked. All I want is to crawl under my cool sheets and
sleep away the stress of it all. I need to retreat into my safe haven of unconsciousness.

When I enter my room to see Liam stretched out on my bed, I nearly have a panic attack.

“What are you doing here?” I demand angrily. The man’s seen me naked so many times
that I’m not even embarrassed.

“You need someone right now. I won’t touch you. You know that. Just get under the
covers so we can talk.” He lifts the sheet for me.

Wanting nothing more than to be under them, I make my way over to the bed and slide
under the sheet. He drapes it over me and rolls over to his side, propping up on one
elbow.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Am I okay? No, not really. Not at all. Some man violated me in the worst way I know
of, so no, I am not okay.

“No, Liam. This is my life. I hate it. Sometimes I wonder if what waits beyond this
life is any better, because quite frankly, I’ve lived half of my life in hell. Can’t
get any worse, I suppose,” I tell him, surprising myself at the dark confessions spewing
out.

“Don’t say that,” he whispers.

I ignore his quiet plea and continue. “Momma ruined my life. I hate her and I hate
my father. If he wouldn’t have left, I could have been a normal child who went to
school, had friends, and didn’t have to worry about bleach baths. But no—my deadbeat
father had to walk out on us and send my mother into fucking Crazyland. He left me
alone with that wicked woman. She turned into a monster and hurt me in the worst possible
way. I hate this life.” My tone is even and cold.

“Sidney, you don’t mean that. Trust me.”

“No, Liam. You don’t understand. I have nothing to live for. My life consists of bizarre
rituals and routines. The one thing that humans need to make them feel human in the
first place is touch. No matter how badly deep down I want it, I can’t deal with it.
She fucked my head up too badly. Sometimes I just think it would be easier if I didn’t
have to—”

Suddenly, Liam is in my face, his lips just inches from mine. “You. Don’t. Mean. That.”
The cool air tickles my lips, and I hold my breath as my heart beats wildly in my
chest.

I may loathe the idea of that man from the basement touching me, but being like this
with Liam makes me feel things I don’t feel around anyone else.

“Say it, Sidney. I need to hear that you don’t mean it. Please.”

His chocolate-brown eyes are searching mine, begging me to respond. The way he’s looking
at me is sad, which confuses me since we’ve only know each other a few days. People
don’t care about one another that quickly. Do they? His eyes, though… They convince
me.

“I don’t mean it. Sometimes though, I like to imagine another life. A life where I’m
not like this,” I whisper.

I’ve said the right thing because he smiles approvingly at me, all melancholy washed
away.

“Lucky for you, you can change your path at any time. It doesn’t always have to be
like this. I mean, already you’ve warmed up to me. We get so close to touching it
drives me crazy. I know eventually you will let me touch you. Until then, I’ve got
all the time in the world to wait for you.”

When he says “touch,” his eyes drop to my lips, where I find my pulse quickening once
again. Inhaling, I accept his wonderful scent into my lungs.

“Now get some rest. You’ve had a hell of a day,” he instructs and pulls himself away
from my personal space. Leaning back against the pillow, he folds his arms—in typical
Liam fashion—and closes his eyes. My own eyes follow him to where he is attempting
to sleep. I never would have thought a month ago that I would be in my own apartment
with a really hot guy in my bed. It is almost laughable. Almost. But right now, there
is nothing laughable at the way he looks, his long legs stretched out over the length
of my bed.

Since he is sleeping—or at least attempting to—I roll over to my side to look at him
better. I would love to run my hands through his dark, messy hair just to see what
it feels like. Of course I refrain. My gaze falls to his perfect face. He really must
be one of the most good-looking men I have ever seen. Dark, long eyelashes jut out
over his flawless skin. A slight amount of stubble covers his cheeks, lips, and chin.
Those lips are so full and perfect.

His black T-shirt is stretched across his muscular chest, and I wish I could see what
is underneath. I bet lines clearly define each muscle. The shirt has ridden up just
a bit, and I can see creamy skin sprinkled with dark hair leading to his jeans. I
throb between my legs and gasp. When my gaze finds its way to his jeans and the bulge
in front, I blush but can’t look away. The throbbing becomes more prominent, and I
feel the urge to ease the ache.