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“No, you’re not, Kenna. I don’t think so at all.”
“I’m not just talking about my arm,” Kenna said, ducking her gaze. “All the loss, the pain, it changes a person, Si.”
“Only if you let it.” Sierra leaned forward. “Don’t let it. You’re so strong. Maybe the strongest person I know. Do you want this man? After everything that’s happened between you?”
Kenna shrugged, because she wasn’t even sure she wanted to let herself think about that question. Not if it would open doors inside her that she couldn’t get closed again.
A long pause, then, “Is he cute?”
Smiling despite herself, Kenna looked at her sister. “No, he’s not cute. He’s freaking hot. He has black hair and brown eyes, and he’s tall. He has a custom furniture-building business, or at least he used to.”
“So he’s good with his hands! Omigod, tell me everything.” Sierra scooted her chair closer. “What do you guys do?” she whispered. “I mean, do you have a particular kind of thing you do?”
“A kink, you mean?”
Sierra’s face turned red. “Okay, yes, a kink.”
“Do you really want these gory details?”
Her sister chuckled. “God, yes. I live for gory details. I have a seven-year-old who never sleeps and when he finally does, half the time it’s in our bed between us. Please allow me to live vicariously through your gory details.”
Doubtful, Kenna grinned. “Okay, well. I like a lot of things, but I’m most into bondage. And Griffin is an expert at an artistic, Japanese style of rope bondage called Shibari.”
“So he is good with his hands! I knew it!” Sierra gestured for her to keep going. “And?”
“And what?” Kenna said with a little laugh.
“When you went to see him last night, what happened?”
“We did a scene together,” Kenna said around another bite of chips and salsa.
“Holy crap, you had sex last night?” Sierra asked, eyes wide.
“You really are okay with this, aren’t you?” Kenna asked, the tension melting out of her shoulders as the realization sank in like a balm to the jagged edges inside her.
“Oh, sweetie, of course I am. What you do in private with someone you care about is none of my business. And to the extent you want to share it with me, I would never do anything but accept you and celebrate with you the things that make you happy. Does he?”
“Does he what?” Kenna asked, an odd stinging sensation at the back of her eyes.
“Does Griffin make you happy?”
The question felt dangerous, and Kenna shook her head. “I don’t know, Si. After everything, I just don’t know. And I’m...I’m scared to even consider it. But last night was the first good night of sleep I’ve had in a long time, the first time I didn’t have any phantom pain in my arm. So something about the experience put me in a better place than I’ve been in since, well, since all this started,” she said, the truth of that hitting her anew.
“Then isn’t it worth exploring?” Sierra asked. “Because even if it’s not with him, ultimately, it sounds like you need this part of yourself again, Kenna.”
With those words, Sierra single-handedly chased away the doubts Kenna had been having about returning to Blasphemy to see Griffin again tomorrow night. She did need this part of herself, even if she wouldn’t always be able to explore it with Griffin. Even if he told her tomorrow that he didn’t think it was a good idea for them to see one another again. Even if bondage and submission and subspace didn’t always provide the same kind of solace as it had last night.
She needed to find herself again. She needed this.
“I’m sorry that I’ve taken you for granted all this time, Sierra. I promise to be better, because I’ve really missed this with you,” Kenna managed.
“Me, too, Ken. And you don’t owe me a single apology. I’m just glad to have you talking to me again. But promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“If things don’t work out with Griffin, please don’t let it set you back or chase you away from me again.”
