Fill Me, Michelle Hazen [e book reading free TXT] 📗

Danny blows in the front door and through to the kitchen with a little two-finger wave, not really looking at me or Jax sitting on the floor in front of the TV.

Worn plastic slips smoothly under my thumb as I pause the game. “Gonna hit the bathroom,” I mutter.

My mood was cruising high after two beers and doubling Jax’s high score, then tripling it. But as soon as I see Danny, it all comes rushing back. Even if I fooled Andy for once, I know Danny’s going to see it all over me, and I’m not ready to face my failure again.

Jax bumps my shoulder with his, flicking me a look from under his ridiculously long eyelashes. I give him a smile to reassure him, and transfer my beer from between my knees to the coffee table. He’s been so sweet tonight, even though I sincerely doubt he’s ever disappointed one of his girlfriends.

As Danny runs the tap in the kitchen, I pad down the short hall on bare feet, closing the bathroom door behind me. I put the toilet seat down with a click and hook my thumbs in my panties, pushing them down before I hike up my skirt and sit. I’ve barely started when the door opens and my eyes pop.

“Danny! Jesus, get out!”

He rolls his dark hazel eyes. “Like I’ve never seen you pee before? It’s not the most interesting thing girls do with their pants off, I promise.”

He turns his back and I grab the roll of toilet paper—loose on top of the spool because Jax is convinced that’s more efficient than taking it on and off all the time—and throw it at him. It rebounds off his shoulder and lands in the sink, and I feel a tiny bit vindicated, even though he’s right. He’s peed next to me at camp-out keggers, and in more than one tiny bathroom with both of us gigglingly drunk. God, he was the one who helped me clean up Granna last week when she had her first accident.

Still, I hate him for being here, for standing so quietly with his back to me in this tiny room, both of us knowing exactly what happened tonight. One more tally mark toward the inevitable conclusion Danny keeps insisting isn’t inevitable. 

Math has never been his strong suit.

“Did it happen again?” he asks.

I clamp my teeth together until they grind, but I don’t answer. “Give me the goddamn toilet paper back,” I mutter instead, holding out my hand. He grabs it and passes it back without turning around.

I wipe and the scrape of cheap tissue against sore skin makes me wince.

Of course I’m sore. If I were a normal girl, I’d have been wet and ready to get wild with her beloved boyfriend in the parking lot after a kick-ass show. If I were the party girl rocker I pretend to be, the people passing the car windows would have turned me on even more.

I grab a new wad of tissue and press it against my face to stifle the sob that’s locked inside my throat. Only a thin whimper gets out, but it’s enough.

Danny turns and lifts me to my feet, flushing the toilet for me as my arms lock with the force of my next sob. I hide my face in the puff of tissue paper, as if keeping my tears utterly silent will make them disappear. Gently, Danny tugs my panties back up my legs and brushes my skirt down over them before he folds me against his chest.

His fists dig into my shoulders, his chin biting the top of my head because he always hugs hard, but it makes me feel safe.

The bathroom is so small around us, the tile counter blurring in the edges of my vision. The force of my grief sears it into my brain, like this might be the moment I remember where I finally gave up.

“It’s not getting any better.” My words are muffled by his shirt, his chest bony and lean beneath the fabric.

“Fuck him,” Danny says, and I pull away from him, dropping my tissues and grabbing the edge of the sink, my head sagging on my neck as I laugh bitterly, my nose clogged.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it? I can’t fuck anybody the way I ought to be able to.”

“Not your fault, Jimi.”

“He’s trying!” I turn enough to glare at him. “I know you think he’s a jerk, but it’s not like he’s not trying to help, Danny. He loves me, but he doesn’t know what’s wrong with me any more than I do.” I wash my hands, splashing water on my face. Jax’s going to know I was crying and he’ll feel left out again, like I couldn’t confide in him. God, is there anything I can’t screw up tonight? 

Danny reaches out, just barely touching my shoulder. It’s more tentative than he normally is, with me or anyone, and that only brings the tears to brimming again. I squeeze my eyes closed and he turns me into him, lifting my hand and flattening it over his heart.

His heartbeat is slow and steady, and eventually, my breaths lengthen to match, my fingers curling slightly as they relax.

“Sex is supposed to feel like this,” he says, his palm warm against the back of my hand.

I open my eyes, my eyebrow quirking. “Sex is supposed to feel like me and you, hugging in a bathroom? Because I think I’m closer to a nap than an orgasm right now.”

His eyes smile, just a little. “Shut up, Jimi. I’m trying to explain shit.” He takes a breath. “It’s like us, but it’s also like that moment on stage tonight, when Jax stopped trying so hard to sing and just sang, you know? During ‘Disturbed.’”

I laugh, letting my forehead fall until it rests on his collarbone, his heartbeat a steady bass beneath my palm. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin? Sex should be like a nap and Jax’s loudest rock solos. Sure thing.”

His lips touch my hair, almost like a kiss, but not. “You’re going to be okay, Jera. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

I choke on my next laugh, taking a step back. “Of course you would say that. But that’s my whole point. The two people I love most in the world are you and Andy, and I don’t really want to go to bed with either of you. What if that’s all I’m capable of?”

Annoyingly, he smirks, crossing his arms. “I thought you said it was that I was a terrible kisser.”

“You were!” I shudder at the memory. “Or not bad, but just...gross. But you’re my best friend, so that would be fine—if I didn’t feel exactly the same way about Andy once our clothes come off.”

Danny shrugs, utterly unconcerned. “Guess I’m not The One for you. And Boyfriend Douchepanties isn’t either.”

“But then why do I...” I bite my lip.

“Maybe you girls have it all backward.” His eyes are smiling at me again as he tilts his head. “Go for somebody that gives you ten, twelve screaming orgasms and then get to know them.”

I smack him. “Great advice, Dr. Ruth.” I elbow past him to get to the door. “And after that rousing pep talk, I need a beer.”

Apparently Danny isn’t done yet, because he catches me from behind and pulls me back against his chest, hugging me with iron-hard arms locked around my ribs. After a second, when he’s still holding me, I stop squirming.

“You okay, D?” He lets me go, and I turn to face him. His hazel eyes are perfectly blank, which makes me all the more suspicious. “What was that favor you had to do for a friend?”

“Had to star in a porno. Guess I’m not a virgin after all.”

I roll my eyes and turn to yank the door open. “You’re such a dick. Seriously, I don’t know why I even hang out with you.”

“’Cause I’m your favorite,” he drawls, flipping out the lights.

“Fat chance.” I flounce down the hall. “Anyways, you kiss like a trout.”

Chapter 7: Fill Me

Jax

Jera comes out of the bathroom and flops down at my side, her eyes red. My stomach drops, but not because she was spilling her guts to Danny again. Now that I know what she’s crying about, I know better than to open my mouth and think I have a damn thing to say that could help.

She drops her head on my shoulder and I blink once, then smile. I tip my head so my cheek rests on top of her hair, just for a second.

“You okay?”

Jera pouts. “Danny’s a dick. Next time he follows me into a bathroom, kick him or something. Jeez.”

I look at Danny and he shrugs. “I’m a pervert. What do you expect?” He snatches my controller out of my lap and slumps onto the couch, kicking his legs out to prop his unlaced boots on the edge of my coffee table.

I punch him in the thigh,