Breathe Me (A 'Me' Novel) by Jeri Williams Page B

it slow, but even that one step sent fire across my back, causing me to let out a small cry through my clenched teeth. Shit, that hurt.
    “What the hell, Har?” He whirled on me, his eyes accusing. I had little time to soak in the fact that I liked my name on his lips. And that I was stupid for slipping up.
    “It’s nothing. I had a little fall yesterday.” I laughed what I hoped was a carefree laugh and waved my hand dismissively. “I’m a total Bella.” Then I cursed myself for making that stupid reference. He obviously wouldn’t have read that book. He was way too cool for that.
    “A fall.” He mumbled as he let go of my hand and studied me for a beat. In that short time, I had gotten used to his touch enough to miss the heat of his hand in mine. He ran his hand over his close-cropped bark-colored hair. It was cut so low I couldn’t get the exact shade.
    “Look, I know you don’t know me, but what’s up? You one hundred, really?” He looked so sincere, and I was so tired of pretending of living this lifeless life. Tired of the fear ruling me, consuming me so completely that I didn’t know who I was, never did. I wanted to beg him to kiss me like he did last night and make me forget about it all because that moment was the single most best one of my miserably sad life. I wanted to tell him that every time she hit me, kicked me, punched me, or told me she wished I had never been born that it was another pill added to my stash, another piece of my heart that dulled. That I was broken beyond repair.
    You can’t fix me.
    I didn’t tell him any of this. The fear that when I did it would be the last I saw of him locked the truth in my throat like a hard-to-swallow pill. Instead, I focused on his eyes, memorizing them and stamping down my wavering shield, and gave him an eye roll. “You sure you don’t have a uterus? That was dangerously close to sounding like a chick,” I said, then arched an eyebrow and, just for shits and giggles, flicked my eyes down pointedly.
    His intense gaze wavered for a fraction of a second before a muscle ticked in his jaw and he smiled arrogantly, then replied smoothly, “I do actually. It’s so large it hangs down my thigh. Want to see?”
    “Please,” I scoffed, shifting to keep my aching back from locking up. “I’m sure I’d need glasses to see it. With a magnifying lens.” I almost sounded like my normal, fake self.
    “If I’m sure about anything in my life, it’s how untrue that statement is.” His eyes dared me to inspect the truthfulness of his words. With a smirk, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, revealing his thick biceps threatening to pop out of his T-shirt, and just stared at me, consuming me with his eyes but not like before. His eyes seemed to roll over me slowly, searching this time, instead of the sensual slow dance he normally did. It was as if he was looking for a chink in my armor, a flaw. I couldn’t let him look too closely, so no matter how much pain I was in, I forced myself to move, to act as though nothing was wrong and my back wasn’t protesting with sharp pains every move I made.
    “Look, as awesome as this little stare down is, I have to get to work.” I walked around him and started down the sidewalk, each agonizing step making me hiss through my teeth. There was no way I’d make it to work on time now. That asshole ate up my walking time. Even if I ran, I’d still be there late. And I wasn’t running anywhere. Shit.
    “I thought you said that asshole didn’t hurt you?” He barked out and I froze, mentally double-checking that I hadn’t spaced out and missed the part where the asshole touched and hurt me. It hadn’t been him. When I turned around, Deklan was a few steps behind, bringing his hand to touch the small of my back. I stiffened my spine with anticipation as his fingers lightly brushed the small of my back.
    “You’re bleeding,” he said. He held his hand up to show me the small amount of blood on