Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

She followed my voice and smiled.
I set my knee down on the bed, coming down on her as she
settled onto her back, and I rested my body on top of hers as I
planted my elbows under me and held both sides of her head. I
slid my fingers into her hair and touched my forehead to hers,
breathing her in and feeling her body underneath mine.
She scaled her fingers up my back, whispering, “What’s
wrong?”
I closed my eyes, having no idea where to start. “I fucked
up,” I whispered back.
She rubbed me, and I soaked in her heat, the rain hiding us
from the world, and still wondering how she got inside me—
inside my head and my…
“Need to hide for a while?” she asked, a lilt of comfort in
her voice.
And I nodded. “Yeah.”
For as long as I could.
We kissed, softly at first, but my body became aware of
hers, and she wanted to feel everything, her hands going under
and inside my clothes.
And as we stripped, and I thrust inside of her, I knew
without a doubt that this is who I would’ve been if I hadn’t
become me. If I hadn’t learned to cope with pain in all the
worst ways growing up in that house and denied taking any
responsibility for the man I became.
I would’ve gone to school, played basketball, laughed with
my friends, and snuck into my pretty little girlfriend’s house at
night to make love to her, delirious in no other need than to be
good, because I wasn’t so twisted that I needed anything else
to be happy.
This is what I might’ve had forever if I hadn’t lied.
A few hours later, we laid together, the rain lighter now as
she rested her head on my chest and ran her hands over my
body, memorizing every line and chord.