Intoxicated by Alicia Renee Kline

for as long as possible,
taking in shallow, ragged portions of air when I couldn’t stand it
any longer. My heart was pounding, the blood rushing frantically
through my veins. Fresh tears threatened to spill from my still
closed eyes.
    Matthew raised the towel now, gently patting
me dry. When I sensed he was done, I forced my eyes open. Those
blue eyes still studied me intently. He wrapped the washcloth in
the towel and dropped them both to the floor, never looking away
from me. His hand reached for my face, his thumb tracing the line
of my jaw.
    “You are so beautiful.”
    That comment was more than enough to trigger
the waterworks. He brushed away my tears with his fingers, tipping
my chin up so I looked him straight in the eye.
    “Don’t cry for him. He doesn’t deserve it. He
doesn’t deserve you.”
    My body shook with sobs. Matthew pulled me
against him, embracing me with his strong arms. He leaned back
against the couch, extending his long frame over the cushions. He
positioned me so that my head rested against his chest. He rubbed
my back in a circular motion, making small loops across my spine
with his fingers. His other hand raked leisurely through my
hair.
    We laid in silence for the longest time. I
allowed my eyes to close, still feeling his unmistakable presence
all around me. The scent of his soap filled my nose. The warmth of
his skin was apparent even through my clothes. His chest rose and
fell with each breath, gently moving against my cheek. I listened
to the cadence of his heart.
    The tears subsided, and before I knew it I
had drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
     
     
     

Chapter Nine
     
    I awoke in my own bed. Disoriented, I sat up
and immediately wished that I hadn’t. My head pounded from a
combination of sobbing and lack of food. The blinds were drawn,
leaving the room awash in shadows and darkness. I had no idea what
time it was or how I had gotten here. I was, however, fully
clothed. Even my hooded sweatshirt remained intact, zipped modestly
over my tank.
    I reached blindly for my nightstand, flipping
on the lamp once I had located it. The light hurt my eyes. I
squeezed my eyelids shut, reopening them in baby steps. I imagined
this was what a hangover felt like. I had no personal experience
with which to compare. How ironic.
    As my vision cleared, I vaguely remembered
hearing voices. Undoubtedly those of Blake and Matthew. She had
come home from her date and he had still been with me on the couch.
They had spoken in hushed tones, obviously discussing how Eric had
stood me up. Then I had felt weightless, like I was floating. I
realized that Matthew had carried me up the stairs and tucked me
under the comforter.
    Heat rushed to my cheeks. Even though
technically nothing had happened between us, we had spent quite an
intimate evening together. Never before had I exposed myself to
someone like that, especially not someone I had just met. Granted,
he had caught me at one of my most vulnerable moments. It was hard
to pretend that everything was okay when tears were streaming down
your face. When Eric upset me, my usual defense was to hide behind
anger, even around Gracie. For some reason this time the floodgates
had opened and Matthew was on the receiving end. Instead of turning
and running away, which I would have totally understood, he had
canceled his plans and stayed with me.
    With all that remained unsaid between us, he
had sat beside me, holding me as I cried. For all he knew, I could
absolutely hate him because of his past. But he hadn’t given me the
third degree about my opinions. Instinctively, he had settled down
next to me, offering his shoulder to cry on. No one had ever done
anything that kind for me before.
    My eyes slid to the nightstand again,
noticing that he had brought up my cell phone. More importantly, he
had set a full bottle of aspirin and a glass of water beside it. I
uncapped the bottle, shook out two tablets, and swallowed them
quickly. I prayed that relief would come