I leaned back, sitting on some barrels while Daisy hopped onto a few boxes across from me. “So, are you mad, then? But you didn’t storm off?”
“Because I was always upset before, not mad. This time, I was pissed. Why would she think she could do that? You looked horrified. There’s no reason to be mad when you’re the one who was basically assaulted. Dean’s face was always…lustful. He liked it.”
“I was horrified. Not a big fan of friends who betray people or women who try to grab me so blatantly. The touching,” I said, my body involuntarily shivering.
“It’s funny. If you would have put you and Dean next to each other before all of this, I would have figured you would be the one to put me on edge and make me feel insecure.”
“Why?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Don’t even play that game. You know what you look like, what you act like,” she said. “I’m not the only one who assumes it. And you know what it does to me, so I guess I should have assumed it would do it to other people, too.”
“I didn’t realize I was doing anything to you.”
She reached out, moving to swat at my knee with a smile, but I flinched away.
Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at me, but didn’t ask more about it. “But I don’t set you on edge like that? Or do you just hate me touching you in any way?” she asked.
I let out a hard breath, knowing it was time to come clean. I wasn’t even sure how to tell her that I couldn’t stand to be touched, but then to add on that out of everyone I’d ever met, I like her touching me. If I kept trying to hide it, though, this was only going to get messier.
But I knew I sounded out of my mind.
This was a fake relationship, and I worried telling her that would make it all too real.
“I need to tell you something,” I said. I could hit and fight without a second thought, but telling someone new that I hated being touched made me want to gouge my eyes out.
It was going to be better to just jump right in and lay it all out. There were going to be questions, so I started from the beginning.
“So, I was beaten pretty much every day of my life. I think every inch of me has been covered in bruises at some point, and I’ve had broken bones more than once from the beatings,” I said.
Her eyes didn’t leave mine, the horrified look in them almost painful. “Kye,” she whispered, but I continued.
“Even after I moved in with the crew at the apartment building, I would have to go home a few times a week just to be beat. We were doing some pretty illegal things back then and my choices were not to not go back and have the cops all over us, or go back, take the beating, and get to go back to my life. I think the guys saw what was happening, what I was choosing between, and helped us not do those illegal things anymore. They always felt bad because I was younger, but I never cared. The minutes I spent outside that house were good, illegal activities or not. It wasn’t until I was eighteen that I really had a chance to break free from it,” I said, leaning back, my chest heaving now as I tried to find anything to calm myself.
“Come over here,” I said, sounding way more angry than I felt. Her eyes went wide, but she jumped down. She took one careful step towards me and stopped. “Come here, Daisy.”
She finally did, and I grabbed her hands, placing each one on my chest and letting my head fall back. A tingling warmth went through me, the world falling away as the calm warmth spread over me.
“I guess the damage was done, though, because I haven’t been able to deal with people touching me since. I can deal with the crew now. Their hugs and stuff, but they try to avoid it for my sake. When I said I wasn’t affectionate, it’s because it’s physically painful and disgusting. I don’t kiss people. Sex is the worst. I have to make the other person realize that they can’t touch me, like palms down flat on the bed and don’t move, which doesn’t go well for most girls. The times I’ve made it further than that, I’ve tried to get it over with as fast as I can. It’s never felt good because I’m so worried about the touching. My brain is screaming the entire time. Rationally, I know that person isn’t there to beat the shit out of me, but my body doesn’t care. It’s tense to the point that light touches actually hurt. Hands on me hurt, Daisy. Even Sydney doing that. As soon as she got close, every muscle tightened until it was painful, and I can’t stop it. It takes so long for my body to uncoil that I feel like I’ve worked out for days, even if I’ve only been sitting there for a few minutes. I’ve never found anything to stop it. If it’s not painful, it’s horrifyingly gross. My stomach churns, and that feeling of disgust just washes over me.”
Her hands jerked away, but I grabbed them, forcing them back onto my bare chest.
“Don’t,” I said. “It’s helping.”
“But you just said you hate being touched.”
“I do. I fucking hate it so much. I’ve hit people for doing it. Even accidentally, I’ve hit them. I’ve yelled, and screamed, and fought against it.”
“Then let me take my hands off of you, Kye. I didn’t realize that’s what you meant. You should have told me sooner. I’ve touched you so much. I’ve kissed you,” she said, talking faster now. Her face fell, and she finally looked me in the eye. “Oh my god, Kye, I’ve made you kiss me repeatedly! I’ve literally jumped on top of you.”
“Yeah, that was the shock of a fucking lifetime, because I felt none of that.”
“So you like me touching you?” she asked quietly.
“Yes. I never want it to stop. This has never felt good to me until you.”
I pulled off my hat and her soft hands moved up my neck until they pushed into my hair. My head dropped towards her and I could only groan at the sensation.
“Why?”
“I have no idea.” Her hands moved back down, over my neck, my chest, my arms and then over my stomach, going over the same place Sydney had just been. “It erases it. You move your hands over me and it undoes it. Every muscle calms down until I can breathe again. It’s warm and soft and soothing, and I have no idea why.”
She stepped between my legs, getting closer. I held my breath as she reached up, placing a soft kiss on my lips.
“For the first time in my life,” I said, “I can be touched, but I keep assuming that it’s going to end. That suddenly, it will hurt again when you touch me.”
“I hope it doesn’t,” she whispered against my lips. “You deserve to feel how good it is, to have it not hurt.” Her hands hadn’t stopped moving over my back and shoulders. “Do you want me to touch you more or keep our distance still?”
“No, I want you to touch me until it hurts again,” I said, the painful tone to my voice making me want to die in embarrassment, but there was nothing I could do.
“Have you thought about the fact that you could just be getting better? Like it could be anyone touching you, and maybe it doesn’t hurt anymore?”
“I did think that,” I said, already knowing that wasn’t what was happening. It would still hurt, except with her. “Sydney just proved that wrong.”
I cut her off, kissing her again. I didn’t want to think about this ending or about experimenting with my body with anyone else again right now. For once, I liked the calm, and I wanted to hold on to that.
I already knew it would still be different with other people. There was something about Daisy that was different, not me.
She leaned in harder for a second, swiping her tongue against my lips before moving against mine. It didn’t take long before I was losing my mind.
