This is it.
After everything, after I let him see all of me, after I let myself believe that I was enough, this is where it ends. I wrap my arms around myself to stop the shaking I feel, but I can’t.
I can’t think.
The only thing hammering through my head ishe knows, he knows, he knows.
I don’t notice Nate talking to me until his hands are on my shoulders. “Iris? You’re shaking.” He’s close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. “Look at me, okay?”
I shake my head, choking on the words that want to spill out, the truth I never wanted to speak. “You remember me.”
His brow furrows as he glances at the painting again, then back at me. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I remember.”
My stomach twists as I wait for the recoil, the disgust, the shame that will inevitably cross his face when he really sees me.
But it doesn’t come.
There’s no hate in his face, only sadness. Andanger. “Iremember the way they treated you. I remember standing there and not doing anything.”
What?
That’swhat he’s thinking about?
Not how I used to be a boy, not my body, or the secret I kept even after I told him everything else?
He’s looking at me like he’s the one who’s done something wrong.
“You were a kid.” I hug my arms tighter around myself. “You didn’t—”
“I should’ve done more,” he cuts in. “I saw you crying in those halls. I saw what they did. And I—” His mouth twists. “They hurt you, pushed you around, tore up your art.” The panicked adrenaline surging through my body is quickly being covered by the disbelief that he’s not angry at me.
He’s angry athimself.
“I thought you didn’t want me anymore, seeing me as a…” I pause. “A boy.”
“Darlin’, no.” The word comes out fierce, like he needs to erase the thought before it can root any deeper. His hands slide up from my shoulders to cradle my face. “I love you. I love you now, I love you then.”
I turn my head because looking at him, seeing the conviction in his face, it’s almost too much right now.
“Is that why you didn’t want to go out with me?” He asks, putting it together now. “Because you thought of me as one of those assholes who hurt you?”
“Maybe at first,” I tell him, honestly. “But I knew you were a good man, Nate. I mean,” I laugh through my tears, “You had your whole team showing up to class ready to learn as soon as you found out they were making me sad.”
“Damn right I did,” he chuckles, resting his forehead against mine, “Couldn’t have them making me look bad in front of the prettiest girl I ever saw.”
The overwhelmed feeling stays, but the panic fades. It’s the way he says those words, that leaves no space for doubt. He sees me exactly as I am, he remembers me from before, and he still thinks I’m the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.
“I love you,” I say, connecting my lips to his. My body is still trembling, but from the force of everything I feel for him. I can’t stop touching him, fingers in his hair, down his sides, desperate to feel every inch of him until my hand cups him through his jeans.
“Whoa, hang on, we’re at your parents’ house.”
“I don’t care.” I feel him grow harder in his pants. “I want you.”
His breath hitches, hands tightening on my hips when I give his cock a squeeze. “Iris,” he warns, reaching for my hand to pull it away. “We can’t do this here.”
“Please, Nate.”
He shakes his head, shutting his eyes, trying to gain control of himself. “I mean it.” His thumb strokes over my knuckles, keeping my hand in place. “I gotta make a good impression. These are my future in-laws.”
