Read Online What You Leave Behind by Jessica Katoff - Free Book Online Page B

Austin’s backyard through the open patio door. A rush of wind sneaks in through the gap and they both shiver and draw nearer to each other as it hits them. “It’s getting late.”
    “Want to go?” Austin asks, trying to mask the want to ask her to stay. She nods above him after a bare moment of hesitation. “I can drive you. Just let me wake up a bit more first.”
    Austin moves off of her and gets to his feet, instantly feeling empty at the lack of her touch. He grabs another cigarette from the floor and lights it, stretching his limbs again as it dangles from between his lips and the smoke curls into his eyes. Harper watches him, the ripple of muscle in his back beneath his shirt, the tiny line of skin exposed where the hem hitches at his waist, and wants the feel of it under the pads of her fingers once more, but fights it, knowing it’s wrong to use someone in such a way, that the comfort isn’t worth the consequence.
    “Your truck’s broken,” she tells him. “And I kind of want to walk it, anyway.” Alone on the darkened streets of Ashland, his skin will not be there for her to fist between her fingers, to lie to her with its call of want. “It’s not that far.”
    “It’s far enough. And it’s freezing out there,” Austin replies, tossing the butt of his cigarette into a planter on the patio and pulling the door shut. “Let me take you. It’s the least I can do.”
    “You’ve done much more than the least, already,” Harper sighs, standing and moving near to him. She reaches across the space between them and lays her hand against his arm, her fingers pressing into his skin just a bit. It’s meant to be a sincere gesture, but the selfishness of it isn’t lost on Harper. She touches him to soothe herself as much as, if not more so than, she does to comfort and reassure him. “When I’m with you, I don’t—I don’t think about—I feel better when I’m with you.”
    “I’m sorry if I overstepped or anything by bringing you here, if any of this made you uncomfortable or—”
    “Austin, don’t. I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do.” Her grip tightens just slightly, as if to accentuate her point. “And I know this outsider routine has been an ongoing thing for you and I get it, I do, but you’re not always unwanted, Aus. I’m thankful you’re here and to be here with you—that we have each other right now.”
    Austin hangs his head, and stares at the place where their skin meets. “He’s such a fool,” he says sadly, his eyes trained on the faint pressure of her fingertips. She brushes her thumb along his forearm, moving it back and forth through wispy blonde hair, and he uses his opposite hand to cover hers. There is a jolt and they both feel it, but pretend they don’t. “Text me when you get home, okay?”
    “I will,” she assures him, her hand slipping from underneath his. She gathers her things and he walks her to the door, his hand itching to place itself on the small of her back to guide her out. She turns before she exits and stares up at him, at the somber half-smile there, and shakes her head. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”
    “It’s a little too late for that,” he laughs. He reaches around her to open the door, relishes the tiny brush of his arm against hers. It’s something that’s happened thousands of times over the years, but it is the first time he sees her openly recognize the touch. She stares at the bare skin of her arm where it still tingles from the contact, until he bends at the waist to press his lips so softly against the apple of her cheek. Harper blushes beneath the feel of it, a kindling fire, and all of her attention lingers on that spot as he whispers, “Get home safe,” against her skin.
    There is safety in numbers, or so she’s been told, and she feels that to be true with him. She walks home alone, knowing that’s how she needs to be, though the burn that lingers on her skin long after his touch is gone