Page 198 of Tell Me I'm Enough

I kiss her on the cheek.

Then she points to her neck.

I kiss there too.

She points to her collarbone, and I happily keep kissing wherever she tells me to.

She waits for me to look back up at her before sticking her hand out.

I grab it and kiss the back of it, then look up at her lips.

“Do I get to kiss those, too?”

“Only if you promise to never be mean to me in my dreams again.”

“I’d promise you anything, pretty girl.”

I don’t let her say anything else before I pull her into me, kissing her as desperately as I feel right now. Her hand moves to my hair, and she tugs a little, making me groan. My hand moves to her throat, putting just enough pressure there to make her moan back to me.

She pulls away breathlessly. “Someone’s gonna see.”

I throw my head back in frustration. “I would kiss you on a stage in front of everyone if you’d let me.”

“I’m sure you’d kissanyoneon a stage in front of everyone. No one would be surprised by that. But theywouldbe surprised if they saw it wasme.”

Her comment throws me a little. Because ever since the first time Simone and I kissed, I’ve only wanted her. And she doesn’t even realize that. She doesn’t realize that I don’t think about anyone but her. She doesn’t realize that I never want to be with anyone else but her. The one time I tried to be all I could think about was her. She has plagued my heart and soul completely.

And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s a dangerous addiction.

“I don’t want to kiss anyone but you. Anywhere you’d let me, any time you’d let me, and asmanytimes as you’d let me.”

She hums in response like she doesn’t really believe me. “Come on, let’s get back to everyone else, Playboy.”

I grab another beer as we walk back over to the group behind her.

I catch Lydia leaning against Bash with his arm wrapped around her, all protective and shit. It’s sweet. I love seeing this side of him since they’ve become a little thing. It reallyisa stark contrast from the guy I knew two years ago. Gone are the days you couldn’t get Sebastian Ramos to settle down…or put a bottle down. Now he’s the guy a girl like Lydia would be proud to bring back home for the holidays. I mean, he’s always been a stand-up guy, but watching him get his life together, his head together, and his sobriety in check has been pretty cool to watch. It makes me feel like no soul is too lost to find its way back home if he could do it.

And the way he looks at Lydia, the way he treats her, the way he stands by her no matter the weather that comes her way, makes me so happy for them. They deserve each other. I’ve never seen him look at a girl with any real interest before, let alone with the love I see in his eyes now. Even if he hasn’t told her yet, I can see it. I think we all can.

I want that. And I selfishly want it with Simone, even if I know it would never be possible; it would never look the same, never be that healthy kind of love they have.

I don’t know how to love; I only know how to take, how to need, how to fuck things up.

I see parts of myself in Lydia, though. The more I’ve gotten to know her, the more I relate to a lot of the ways she’s dealt with things, especially in her head. I think I’ve got those same demons in mine.

When Simone asked about me being depressed a couple of weeks ago, I denied it. Mostly because I don’t even know what depression looks like, so I just said I wasn’t. But I know there are times when I can’t move from my bed for days, or when I do, I just go through the days feeling so numb that I get pretty reckless and purposely try to feel pain just to feel something. Ithink that’s why I started drinking so heavily. It’s the easiest way to switch the shitty feelings into blissfully numb feelings.

I don’t get emotional, but if I did, I’d get emotional over the strength Lydia has. I wish I had half the strength she does.

I look over next to them and see Erik watching Lani when he thinks no one is looking.

I’d like to say I’m more like Bash with my intentions being known with Simone, but I think I’m slowly realizing I might actually be more like Erik in the way I’m pining for someone who’s not even mine.

He’s protective of her, even when she won’t let him close enough to touch her. And as much as I love Erik. I don’t want to end up like him. I don’t want to be drowned by regrets when it comes to love. Yet I have no idea hownotto be drowned by waters I can’t even control.

Simone abruptly takes all the girls’ hands and leads them away to dance, nudging me to come too—to dance, with other girls, to make it all not so obvious. I oblige, saluting the boys as I follow. Because if I have to fake my way through spinning a couple of girls around to make my way back to Simone and get to dance with her without anyone being suspicious, I’ll do just that.