Hidden Scars: Chapter 12
behind me with a click. I leave the light off even though it’s dark as shit in here. My head is pounding and my stomach is rolling. After my dinner consisting of two shots followed by a side of nothing else, my body isn’t happy. Not to mention the two additional shots I snagged from a buzzed teammate heading up to his room with a tray of drinks.
Apparently, drinking loosens me up enough to be amicable with other people. It wasn’t my best decision, but I slept better last night than I have in months, so there’s that.
I tap my phone and cringe at the brightness of the screen. Once I turn it down, I call Lily.
“Hey, party boy. Enjoy yourself? Have a hangover?” Her knowing smile irritates me but I try not to show it. “Your boyfriend is cute.”
“He’s my roommate.” I grumble.
“Then why was he answering your phone at four thirty in the morning?” She laughs like she doesn’t believe me.
“I have no idea.” I rub at my forehead, the damn thing not giving up the drum solo it has going on. “Why did you call me that early? Everything okay?”
I sit on the edge of the tub and close my eyes.
“Dad told me I can come out to see a game this season! I can’t wait!” Her excited squeal both hurts my head and sinks a boulder in my stomach.
Fuck.
God damn it.
No.
My sluggish brain starts spinning with everything this means. The pain that will be coming my way in order to protect her. How am I going to hide everything from her? I can’t have her living with the guilt of knowing what I’ve been doing to keep her safe.
“When?” My voice cracks a little on the word.
“I don’t know yet but I can’t wait to see you! It’s been way too long since I’ve seen you play!” she bounces around in her excitement, the movement giving me motion sickness. I hate that I can’t fake being happier and she can see it when she looks at me.
A smile lifts the corners of my mouth a little but I can’t give her a full smile.
“You know I’ll fly you out anytime you want to come, you don’t have to wait for him.” I’ve told her so many times. She’s busy doing a bunch of shit at school, but if she wants to come out here, I’ll make it happen.
“I know, but that’s a lot of extra shit for you to deal with. It’s easier if I just stay with Dad.” She shrugs.
“No!” I force myself to take a deep breath after snapping the word at her. “No, I’ll get you a hotel room. Don’t stay with him.”
All the excitement from a second ago is gone in an instant. Her face falls to neutral and she falls quiet.
God damn it. I force myself to take a deep breath. Did I blow it? Am I going to lose her too? Fail to protect her?
“Okay,” The excitement has left her face and it’s my fault. Fuck.
I open my mouth to say something when Jeremy knocks on the bathroom door.
“Shit, I gotta go Lil. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah, later.” She hangs up the call and I feel like shit. She’s the only one I’m supposed to protect and I’m fucking it up.
Getting up off the floor, I open the door to see Jeremy standing in the hallway with a water bottle and some pills.
“Ibuprofen and hydrate,” he tells me, handing them over. “You also need to eat.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an oatmeal granola bar, handing that to me too. Without waiting for a response, he turns back to the room and starts pulling his pajama pants off and digging in his duffle bag.
Turn away. Stop watching him change. You can’t afford another distraction now, you’re almost done with your father.
He catches me staring at his ass when he pulls his jeans up. Jeremy freezes with the waistband of the pants under his ass, lifting the muscles just enough to be enticing. I can’t turn away.
Slowly, he starts to move, sliding the jeans up until they sit open on his hips. The bastard turns toward me, showing the hard planes of his body and the band of his boxer briefs riding low in the open zipper.
My dick thickens in the jeans that I didn’t take off last night.
Jeremy makes a show of looking at my groin, lifts an eyebrow, then meets my eyes.
“So…do you fuck dudes too, or just stare at them like you want to?” His question snaps me out of whatever weird trance his body put me in. I don’t answer the question because, both? I grab my bag from the closet and go back into the bathroom, where I don’t have to look at his face and remember how good he felt under me.
Closing the door, I lock it this time, just in case, and strip out of my clothes. Where the hell are my shoes? God damn it!
I find clean clothes to wear and grab my dirty ones, shoving them in my bag. On my way out of the bathroom, I drop my duffle by the entrance door to the room and look around. Laying on my bed are my shoes and the suit Jeremy wore last night.
Jeremy zips up his bag and he watches me walk past him. I can feel his gaze on me like a physical caress. I both love it and hate it. The idea of Jeremy touching me is almost intoxicating. Part of me craves human contact, but in reality, I can’t stand for anyone to touch my body. Arms and hands are okay, and sometimes a leg brush, but my torso is absolutely off limits.
I haven’t felt a comforting hand since my mother died. My sister was luckier than I was, especially in those early days. I cared for her, helped her through the nightmares and her tears, but I never let her see me break. Her little five-year-old brain wasn’t old enough to comfort me.
I make sure my garment bag is ready, catching a whiff of Jeremy’s spicy, woody, masculine cologne as I zip up the bag, laying it across my duffle.
“Ready?” Jeremy asks, stepping too close to me. My body tenses at the nearness. The scent of his cologne makes me think of sex and it’s obvious he sprayed it on while I was getting changed.
I grit my teeth and grab my things then open the door to our room. He follows me into the hallway, other team members crowding the space. They keep away from me, for which I’m grateful. I don’t know if it’s the fuck off look on my face or what, but I don’t care as long as nobody bumps me.
Once we make it onto the bus, everyone settles with their normal buddies and I pop my AirPods in to ignore the noise around me. I always sit in the back row of the bus, but the others shift around a few rows every time. This time, Jeremy and Brendon end up in the row in front of me.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning back against the seat and realize the throbbing in my head has lessened thanks to the ibuprofen and water. I try to close my eyes and relax but there’s too much going on around me. I’m used to all this noise, it’s always like this when we travel on away games, but something is different now. Something is telling me I’m in danger, pay attention.
Everyone hates you.
You’ll never be able to save Lily.
You’re a failure and everyone knows it.
The guys shift around me, a couple guys sliding into the seats across the aisle from me. They nod at me but don’t try to talk to me. By now, everyone knows I’m not interested in idle conversation. Or any conversation at all.
These bus rides are torture. The seats are not made for athletes and the buses are always packed with us, the coaches, and the team staff. No leg room, no elbow room, just packed in here like sardines. I hate it.
Paul climbs on the bus and zeros in on Jeremy and Brendon. After a quick glance around, seeing the only empty spot is between me and the window, he grimaces on his way back here.
“Hey, can I sit here?” He looks as happy about it as I feel. My knee starts bouncing but my expression doesn’t change.
No. You can’t touch me.
From the corner of my eye, I notice Jeremy standing. Everyone turns to watch Brendon getting out of the way to let Jeremy out.
“Paul, take my seat. I need to study anyway.”
Paul looks at Brendon, who looks pissed with his clenched jaw and stiff shoulders. He slides into the seat and Brendon stares at me like he can intimidate me. Hilarious. This kid thinks he’s scary? Not a fucking chance.
I stand and move to make room for Jeremy to squeeze past me. When the front of his body brushes mine, I no longer think anything is funny. Every muscle in my body tenses and revolts, goosebumps breaking out over every inch of skin. My dick twitches as Jeremy’s hip pushes against it.
I grind my teeth to keep still and not show any reaction.
He sits down, leaning into the window, and starts messing with his phone. An earbud is in his ear and he smiles at his phone.
Dropping down into the seat, I try to keep my body from pressing against his. His sensual cologne catches in my nose, and I have to force myself not to bury my face in his neck.
What would it feel like to be held by someone? To breathe them in, their hands running through my hair while we laid in bed, pressed together. I want it so bad it hurts.
But the smallest touch on my skin turns my stomach. My heart wants it but my mind can’t handle it.
I want it but it hurts. Skin on my skin turns my stomach but my heart wants to be comforted.
“I swear to fuck, Stacy, if you don’t let me talk to my baby, I’m pushing you down the stairs the next time I’m home.” Jeremy glares into the phone, but the relaxed posture tells me he’s not really upset.
“You may have carried her or whatever but she’s my baby.” He rolls his eyes then starts whining like a child. “Let me talk to Ella!”
I glance at his screen and see a chubby-cheeked baby face fill the screen with a big grin. She has curly light blonde soft looking hair and big eyes, but I can’t see their color from my angle.
“That’s my girl!” Jeremy’s entire face lights up. “Hey, baby, what are you doing today?” He pays close attention to whatever she’s babbling to him. The little girl can’t be two years old. Can babies that young talk?
Is that his daughter? I’ve never heard anyone mention him having a kid. There’s no pictures in our room of one.
You’ll never love anyone as much as he loves that little girl. You’re fucking broken. Who will want your broken ass? Dealing with your bullshit isn’t worth it.
You aren’t worthy of love like that.
I close my eyes, cross my arms over my chest, and suck in a deep breath, turning up the volume in my AirPods to drown out Jeremy’s voice.
I just have to make it to this summer then I can tell Dad to fuck off. He can’t control me once Lily is an adult.
Jeremy’s thigh presses against mine, hip to knee. I refuse to open my eyes and look at him. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose to get a reaction out of me or not, but I’m not rising to the bait.
Keep telling yourself that you hate it.
That you don’t itch to touch him.
Forcing my shoulders to relax, I loosen my jaw and drop my arms, running my palms over the tops of my thighs. It’s one of the few self-comforts I have.
My body itches to move, to run. I have too much energy. Since I passed out last night, I didn’t set my alarm for this morning to get a workout in before getting on the bus. I hate missing that run. It calms me, clears the bullshit from my brain.
A finger touches my pinkie. My eyes pop open and my head snaps toward Jeremy. My body is tense once again, but my hands have stopped moving. What the hell is he doing?
The video call on his phone has ended, now he’s scrolling through social media. Despite not looking at me and appearing completely oblivious to what is happening in my head, he hooks his finger around mine.
He mutters something I don’t hear over the music in my ears but looks like ‘I’ve got you.’
My gaze drops to our hands, hating how much I like it. Hating how much I want to press our palms together, interlock our fingers, rub my face against the back of his hand.
For just a second, there’s no one on this bus but the two of us. I’m safe.
If I look at him, will he be watching me or pretending it’s not happening?
I curl my finger around his, testing the feeling of it. It’s strange how my heart pounds in my throat at the little touch. I flick my gaze back up to Jeremy’s face to find him watching me from the corner of his eye. No judgment, just comfort and maybe some hesitation. But why?
The spell is broken a second later when a loud mouth a few rows in front of us laughs, and I can hear it over the music in my ears. I jerk my hand back, once again crossing my arms over my chest and shifting so his thigh isn’t against me anymore.
It’s going to be a long ride back to school.