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She raises her left hand, showing me her ring finger decorated with my rings.
“And what the fuck is this, asshole?”
I give her a bright smile. “A proof of love?”
“And your initials on my ass?”
“You deserved that.”
She rolls her eyes, pushing me to the side so she can continue getting ready.
“I can’t walk in heels,” she tells me, opening the box. “I hope you’re ready for me to embarrass you.”
I take the box from her and put it on the bed. “You could never embarrass me.”
Pinching the pants of my suit, I lift them slightly and fall to my haunches in front of her. Her eyebrows rise to her hairline. She doesn’t say anything, though.
“So you’re telling me your little show at the shop wasn’t because I’d hurt your male ego and embarrassed you in front of Suzanna by not wanting your gifts?”
Taking her hands, I place them both on my shoulders. Next, I take the shoe out of the box.
“You did not hurt my ego.” I wrap my hand around her right ankle, lifting it, and I feel her hands tighten around my shoulders. “I want to spoil you, Kay.” I slide the shoe on her foot and pull it to rest on my thigh. “I want you to wear something that’s deserving of you. I want you to walk into a room and have everyone look at you and wonder how they could ever be you.”
I clasp the shoe and let my hand wander up her calf. “They could never be you, but I’d like to see them try and fail miserably.”
Looking down at me, I notice the confusion on her face. I put her foot back down and grab the other shoe, repeating the process.
“I didn’t like that you wouldn’t let me take care of you.”
“You want to treat me like a doll. Keep me in your house, leave me alone all day, come back at night to play with me. Parade me around, dress me up, choose everything for me.”
She pauses when I clasp the other shoe.
“I am not a doll, Nathan. I have feelings and dreams. I have a style of my own. I have my favorite clothes, my favorite foods. I have places I like to go to, plenty of things that make me feel good inside. Warm, satisfied. Don’t you have those?”
It hits me that since having her here, I haven’t had time to think of anything else but her, and yet, I feel the exact same way when she described her favorite things.
It’s her. She does all that to me.
My hand slides along her calf again, tighter this time. “I can be those things.” I look up at her from my position. “Let me be those things for you.”
“I lived an entire life before you. You can’t replace everything.”
I drop a kiss on the side of her knee. “Then how did you do it?” I whisper against her skin.
She matches my tone of voice. “Do what?”
“Become everything that makes me feel warm.” I kiss her again. “Satisfied.” And again. “Good.”
Her gulp is so loud it makes me look up at her.
“You…” she hesitates. “You’re just repeating my words. You don’t know what it really feels like.”
“I do. You make me feel it.”
She shakes her head in a panic. Her ankle wobbles in the heel on the floor, and I wrap my hand around it.
I don’t understand why she doesn’t want to believe me. It took me weeks to make sense of them because I had never felt them. But surely she has? Those are feelings she should understand.
