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But after a few minutes on the highway, Gibson turned down the radio. “We’re not going to do this.”
She glared over at him.
He didn’t look her way, his eyes steady on the road, his one-handed grip on the steering wheel tense. “You don’t have to talk. But maybe you can listen.”
Her teeth pressed together, and she jerked her head forward, staring out at the lines of the road disappearing beneath their tires. She wished her own car hadn’t been towed to the shop, wished she were alone on this drive.
Gibson cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for acting like I did at the store. You’re right. There was nothing noble about it. It was about me.”
She sniffed and resisted the urge to blurt out, You don’t say?
He shifted in his seat. “You’ve only known me in the After. Gibson Andrews, executive, PR guy, Kade’s stepbrother, cocky asshole, whatever labels people put on me. But that’s not who I’ve always been. The labels used to be very different. White trash. Freak. Fag. My own father could barely stand to look at me. When I asked him what happened to my mom, he told me she’d overdosed when I was four because I was such a pain in the ass to care for—too needy, weak. Apparently I cried a lot, always wanted her attention. I was just too much, I guess. He blamed me for her death.”
Sam’s chest constricted, and she turned toward him, but his gaze was still drilling holes through the front windshield. The proud, beautiful man holding the pieces together for that little boy he used to be. She’d been through her own shit childhood, but she couldn’t imagine what that had been like for Gib. How does a kid walk along carrying that kind of weight? You were too much for your own mother. When, in truth, any kid was probably too much for a drug addict.
Gibson continued without looking her way. “I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure out how not to be the person he said I was. To be strong. Tough. To make sure no one could laugh at me or make me feel the way he did. To make sure I could take care of myself and not need anything from anyone.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Having anyone look at me like I’m weak or less than puts this knot in my gut, makes me sick inside. Makes me think of him. And some part of me starts to wonder if he was right. If something’s not quite right with me.”
The quiet pain that laced his tone threaded through her and made her hurt for him. She knew what it was like to wonder if something inside was broken or deficient, if you had somehow missed the day God gave out the normal stuff. Every time a family had passed her over for adoption, she’d had that thought. Why not me? What’s wrong with me? “Gib . . .”
He scoffed, this humorless sound at the back of his throat. “I mean, what would the old man think if he saw you defending me in that store? Or worse, saw me getting on my knees and being ordered around by a woman, getting off on it?”
She reached for his free hand and pressed hers over his. “Submission doesn’t make you weak or less of a man, Gib. It takes more strength to give up control than to hold it. You’ve got to know that.”
He wet his lips, still not looking at her. “In theory, I know that. I’ve watched subs at the Ranch take more than most people could ever handle. But when I’m in that moment, skirting that edge of really giving up control, I can’t get his voice out of my head. All this shit gets kicked up. Why do I want a woman to take me over? And what is begging if not being needy? I’m afraid if I let you push me past that line, I’d be disgusted with myself and hate you for it, that it’d all merge into that black pool, that I’d lash out like I did in the store, only it’d be directed at you instead.”
“You would never hurt me,” she said with absolute confidence.
He looked over at her, his eyes sad. “Not with my fists, Sam. But there are things that are far more hurtful than that.”
“Like when you ended things with us before they could go anywhere.”
He peered back out to the road. “Like caring about the opinions of two rocks-for-brains scumbags over yours. Like acting ashamed to be with you when I should be on my knees thanking the fucking universe that someone as smart and sexy as you wants me in her life. You’re like hitting the girl lottery, and I can’t even get out of my own way to appreciate it.”
The words pricked her, bitter and sweet. Gibson. Sweet, sexy Gibson. He had no idea what a gift he was, what a gift he could be if he could cut those ropes that tied him down. But the yearning in his voice was like balm for her soul. He wanted this, even though he didn’t believe he could get there. She could work with wanting. This was hard for both of them. Tonight had been a disaster, but maybe there was still some hope. She just had to figure out how to help him navigate through all the crap tangling them up.
His hand flexed against the steering wheel. “Maybe the kindest thing I ever did was walk away from you. Being here this week, accepting the deal, I’m starting to think that was the cruelest—for us both. You deserve better than this, Sam. You know you do.”
She leaned back in her seat, keeping her hand tight over his, and took a leap, hoping to hell it was the right move. “I don’t think I like you presuming what I do and don’t deserve. That’s not your choice to make. And I definitely don’t approve of my sub insulting himself. Pisses me off.”
He gl
anced at her, confusion cutting lines around his mouth and eyes.
“You agreed to a week,” she reminded him, the words coming on pure instinct. “I expect you to honor that.”
“Didn’t you hear what I just—”
“I heard what you said. And unless there was a safe word I missed, it doesn’t change our deal. Are you calling your safe word?”
“Sam . . .”
She smiled inwardly. That wasn’t it. Her confidence buoyed.
He had to look away so he could make the turn onto the road that would lead up to the farmhouse, but she could almost feel his pulse tick up, could see the push and pull going through him. She’d thrown him off track. He was scrambling to get his footing, figure out her game.
“You know why I was at Viv’s in the first place?”
He didn’t answer, but the tilt of his head said he was listening to every word.
