“Oh, I was.”
“I could have made sure there was no pain for you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
Now she reached for his hand. “You didn’t.”
His gaze got caught on their locked hands. “I’m so much bigger than you.”
Granted, he was.
“You’re delicate.”
Nah. She wasn’t. She might look delicate, but deep down, she wasn’t. You couldn’t be delicate and live through the things that she had.
“Breakable,” he charged.
Others had tried to break her. She was still right there. Maybe with a few scars but not broken.
All gruff and grim, Preston told her, “I don’t ever want to be the person who breaks something as beautiful as you.”
That was nice. “This guilt is completely unnecessary.” She tugged his hand. A yawn stretched her mouth. “I’m exhausted. Come into this bed with me. Curl up with me, and let’s see if we can actually manage to sleep in a bed or if we’ll just wind up in the chair downstairs again.”
“Sloane…”
A long-suffering sigh escaped her. “Ask me why.”
His gaze had left their joined hands. Had lifted to pin her. A little furrow—a cute one—dug between his brows.
“Ask me why,” she repeated.
“Why, what?”
Not quite what she’d meant, but good enough. “Trust.”
“I am fucking lost.”
Kind of adorably so. But what she had to say wasn’t so adorable. Though, really, it was only fair that she reveal some of her secrets to him considering the way she’d ripped into his past. “When I was sixteen, I thought Cody Crenshaw would be my first lover.” Her gaze swept over Preston. He’d put on a pair of blue pajama pants before he came out of the bathroom, but his chest was bare. Muscled. Washboard abs. Power. Strength.
Sometimes, strength scared her. A man’s power scared her.
Arms grabbing her from behind. Breath hot on her ear. “Now we can be together. Just like you wanted.”
She tightened her hold on Preston’s hand. His power didn’t scare her. It tempted her. “He was the first guy I loved or…thought I loved.” At sixteen, everything had been so intense. Overwhelming.
Cody had been very, very good at charming her. At charming everyone. Until he didn’t get what he wanted.
“But I was nervous. Uncertain.” She’d been so unsure of herself. Spoiler, sometimes, she still was. “When Cody and I were alone, things would be perfect one moment, but in the next instant, something would change. He’d change.”
“Did he hurt you?” Then, “Fuck, of course, he hurt you. He killed your parents. He’s the prick who gave you the scar on your leg.” Then he was in the bed with her. Sliding beside her. Wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close as they eased down on the mattress. “I’m a bastard.” Rough. “You don’t have to explain any damn thing to me. You don’t have to tell me about your past. You sure as shit don’t need to relive your pain for me.”
“Why not? You had to relive your pain with me.” He’d literally been buried a second time. “Seems only fair I do the same for you.” Her head turned on the pillow. He was right beside her, watching her. “At first, Cody seemed like a dream.” Didn’t all nightmares start that way, though? As a dream? “Cody came from money. His grandfather had been a senator. In the small town I grew up in, people talked about his family the way most people talk about the Kennedy dynasty.”
Preston didn’t push her. Didn’t ask for more. But she gave him more. “He transferred to my school when I was a junior. He’d been at some elite private school, but his family switched him, and everyone at my high school seemed to instantly fall in love with him.”
“Including you.”
She nodded. “He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before. He was confident, and he had no hesitations about anything. He knew who he was. He knew what he wanted.”
“The jerk wanted you.”
