Psychosexual [BoyxBoyxBoy]

Chapter 14

No matter how much I struggled, my mind kept going back, like it was being pulled by gravity.

Anxious hours passed. I spent most of the morning rolling on the couch, restless and sick to my stomach. My roommates left to go to work and school, so I was alone in the empty apartment. I was glad for that. I wanted to be alone while I got ready for the day.

I was in the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror, wondering what happened to the blood that stained my skin. I was wearing the same clothes I had left in, but I remembered being asked to remove them. Who put them back on me? Who cleaned my body? Did I truly blackout? So many questions, but very little answers. Did I even want to know what happened in those dark hours that I couldn't recall?

I stepped into the shower after getting naked, turned on the water and watched it fall all over the ceramic floor. For a quick second, the water looked red and thick. The hairs on my arms bristled. My heart raced fast. I couldn't get the picture out of my head. As the water soaked my body, the familiar weight threatened to buckle my legs, but I was just barely strong enough to hold my own and stay under the pouring cold.

When the shower was over, and the icky reminders were cleansed from my skin, I dried my body in the comfort of my room and fetched my phone as it charged on my pillowcase next to the wall.

I was disappointed at the lack of messages from a certain someone, but I wasn't going to be the one to cave in. He owed me answers, he owed me so fucking much.

I texted Elijah and told him I was getting ready. He responded back fast, like always, and said he'd be here in half an hour. He was coming on his motorcycle, which kind of freaked me out, but enticed me at the same time. Motorcycles were dangerously exciting, but I mostly worried about the driver and his ability to keep me safe.

My outfit for the day was a safe white shirt with my good jacket on, ripped jeans and these nice dress shoes that elevated my boring look to at least a decent date level. Then came my pretty boy hair. It was naturally straight and for the most part left untouched. I brushed it once and tried to move both sides behind my ears, but one side kept coming undone and moving over my eyes.

When it was time, I exhaled a deep breath and rolled my shoulders to ease the tension in my muscles. I turned off everything in the apartment and walked out with my keys and wallet in my tight pockets.

Elijah was waiting on his motorcycle, helmet still on when I approached him under the burning California sun. He removed it to greet me and his lips formed the famous smile I grew to remember him by.

"Fuck, you're hot," he said when I stopped next to the bike.

"I feel hot," I replied, raising a hand to block the sun from my face.

"Put this on and climb on." He threw me another helmet and I caught it, flipping it around to slide it over my head. Once it was secure, Elijah pushed the face shield down and gave me a thumbs up as he put his helmet back on. "You ready?"

I nodded my response and swung my leg over the pillion. I wrapped my arms around him and locked my hands together over his stomach. The bike roared to life . . . and so did my heart. I was scared, yet I couldn't keep myself from smiling.

When the ride started, I squeezed harder, and I knew that Elijah was going at a slow pace for my sake. The speed just didn't feel like him. He was unpredictable and wild, he'd go at the speed of light if he could.

The motorcycle type was a mystery to me. I knew nothing about vehicles in general. His motorcycle was black and shiny, big and hellish. That was all I knew of it. I was a disappointment to the male stereotype.