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It's just us.
This feeling that is pulsing between us is not one I've ever felt before. Damn.
This is beyond anything I believed could be true. Real.
“I don't want you to think about things,” she whispers. “I want you to say it all. I need to hear your words, Rye. I spent too long cooped up in my own mind.”
“You want to stay up all night talking?” I ask. “Because I'll tell you every damn thing. I'll tell you my life story. I'll write out an ending for ours.”
She shakes her head. “No. That's not what I want. I want you to make love to me.”
“You sure you know what you're asking for?” I ask her.
She lifts her shoulders. There are tears in her eyes. “I spent so many years alone, wanting to be touched. Desperate to be held and kissed. I wanted someone next to me when I went to bed at night, in my bed when I woke. And then somehow, today my life changed. I’m free and I’ve found you, and Rye, I'm scared.”
“Tell me what you're scared of.”
“I'm scared I'm going to wake up and this will all have been just a dream. You're not gonna be real. Your parents showing up here and checking in on you? Who has that? That's not real life.” She shakes her head. “I grew up in foster care. My mom, she died when I was little. I never had a family. Not like this, not like you.” She turns around, spinning in my cabin, her hands waving in the air. “This place? Your home? This is not anything I would have imagined for myself.”
“What are you saying? You don't want to be here anymore?”
“No,” she says. “Rye, I'm saying you seem too good to be true. All of this does.”
“It's not pretend,” I tell her. “What I'm feeling right now, it's fucking real.”
“What do you feel?” she asks. “Tell me what you feel. Tell me I'm not crazy.”
I run a hand over her back. I drag her body to mine. I tilt her chin and look deep into her eyes, straight to her heart, her soul.
“I feel like I fell in love with you the moment you fainted in my arms. Like I would do anything I could to protect you for the rest of my fucking life, Prairie Jones.” I kiss her forehead. “I want you to be mine. Whatever that means. I want to hold you tight and kiss you goodnight. I want to wake up with you in my arms. I want to cook you bacon and eggs and make you coffee. I want to make you happy and keep you warm. I want to give you everything. Things I never even considered before. I'm not this kind of guy. I'm a fucking mess.” I shake my head. “But Prairie, I want to be the kind of man you need, a good man, your man. I feel alive when I'm with you. Like I have a meaning in my life. A purpose.”
“And before me?” she asks, her voice cracking. “What were you before? Just a feather floating in the wind?”
“Maybe,” I tell her plainly, ”I was missing something, missing you. I went to work, built houses for my father. I did my job. I showed up for Sunday dinner. I did my best, most often. Probably wasn't good enough. But I tried. God knows I tried. But for you, Prairie, I'll do more than fucking try. I will be whatever you need me to be.”
“You're going to make promises to a girl you just met? I could be crazy. I could be certifiable. I could have lost my mind in that cabin. I shot a man today.” She stares up at me.
She pushes me away with her hands on my chest, but she's not looking for a fight. She's looking for a promise.
“You're not crazy. And if you've lost your mind, then so have I. And it wasn't in cold blood. You killed a man to save yourself. Because you're a strong-ass woman who wants to live. So let's fucking live. Wild and reckless and free.” I cup both her cheeks with my hands. “I know my parents thought we'd lost our goddamn marbles when they showed up here today. I know what they were thinking.”
Prairie nods. “I know too. They think I’m a fragile, breakable thing. A girl who probably needs medical attention.”
I nod. “Yeah. And they probably think I'm not fit to be taking care of you.”
“Are you?” Prairie challenges me. “Are you fit to take care of me? Because I'm going to need help, Rye. I'm going to need to see a therapist, and I'm going to need to go to the doctor. And I'm probably going to have to continue dealing with the police. Because what happened up there was really fucked up.”
“I understand that,” I say. “And I'm not going anywhere. You need a home base. This is it. This cabin, hell, you can move right in.”
“Again,” she says, “making promises to some girl you just met.”
“No. You're not some girl I just met. You're the girl I'm spending the rest of my fucking life with.”
“Stop it,” she says, tears on her cheeks. “Stop.”
“No,” I tell her. “It’s the goddamn truth, Prairie.” I take her body against mine. I lift her up in my arms, and I carry her to my room.
I lay her down on my bed, and I begin to undress her because I need her naked and bare. I strip off my clothes too. She can have all of me.
