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“You really need to know this?” Sara whispered.
We were closing in on one in the morning, but I wasn’t backing down. I had brought her back to my house, and she had insisted on sleeping. As cruel as it was, I refused to let her. I knew she wasn’t sleepy – she was avoiding my questions about her past the way she had steadily been for days now.
“I need to know,” I confirmed, showing no mercy to the pleading tears in her eyes as she sat at the edge of my bed. “I don’t enjoy feeling like I can’t protect you. The more you tell me, the better I know how to keep someone from hurting you. So talk.”
“You first. Who was that woman in the green dress?” she asked, glaring up at me. “She seemed a bit possessive of your attention.”
“That was Madeline,” I said. “I met her five years ago while I was out with Emmett one night. I don’t know where he found her. He generally collects new friends throughout the night.”
“And you two have slept together?” she asked.
“Twice,” I answered. “She’s just a woman I’ve slept with before, Sara. Your issue with her should be solely with the fact that she crossed the line in conversation today. You have no reason to feel threatened by any woman I’ve had a history with, no matter how long or brief.”
“No? Tell me why not,” Sara said. Her tears had stopped an hour ago, but her dark eyes were still wet, and I found myself unable to say no to them.
“I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about another woman. That’s your answer.”
“That’s hard to believe,” she murmured as she stood up and made a beeline for the bathroom. I clenched my jaw as I followed her in.
“Why?” I asked. “What reason have I given you to doubt that I care for you?”
“None,” she answered remorselessly. “I just don’t know you. I don’t know anything about you,” she said, angrily dabbing a tissue at her eyes as her voice started to waver. “I’m obviously feeling things for you. You don’t make it easy for me to avoid that, but I want to keep myself at least a little protected from you. Explaining my past to you is just me volunteering to knock down whatever’s left of my wall, and I don’t know if that’s worth it for you, Julian. Not when this little thing here will be done before I know it.”
My heart processed her words before I did, because I had barely a warning before my pulse started hammering.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. She shot me daggers over my tone.
“Are you really going to pretend whatever’s going on between us is something you’re willing to invest your time in?” she demanded. “Look at you. Look at who you are. You don’t do this kind of thing. You don’t have girlfriends. There’s a good portion of your life you haven’t revealed to your own best friend. You’re guarded, and I get it. It’s the best way to get work done. We’ve both employed that method of living. We both know what it’s like, so why are you asking me to expose myself for you when you’d never do the same for anyone else, let alone me?”
Fair point.
In fact, everything she said was so fucking dead on it pissed me off. It only intensified my need to know about her. If she was that much like me, then the work was a distraction from something deep and dark, and I needed to know.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know about me if you tell me about you.”
The offer was out before I could change my mind. But she still didn’t bite.
“You won’t want to look at me let alone talk to me after I’m done,” she said. My chest felt hot as I heard her voice falter, and watched her eyes mist with fresh tears.
“You know that isn’t true. I can’t stop looking at you. That’s been the problem since the night we met.”
I watched the storm of clashing emotions flicker in her eyes.
“Fine. If you’re so convinced of that, let me go right ahead. I stayed at June Magazine for almost ten years, despite how they treated me, because I was convinced no other company would ever hire me. My mom was convinced June neglected my background check because I was hired directly out of my internship. I was arrested in college, Julian. Can you guess what the charges were?” she asked heatedly, her voice quivering. A tear fell from the corner of her eyes as she shook her head. “It was prostitution. Would you like to run
now?” she hissed, her wild eyes flitting all over my expression.
I looked stunned.
I knew I did. I hadn’t moved a muscle on my face, but I could tell from the way Sara’s tears were falling now that my eyes had given me away. It felt like a dagger had splintered into my heart as I watched her cover her face and crumple to the ground, letting everything out. Every tear, every cry, every shudder. She was sobbing uncontrollably at my feet, and I knew how much it had to hurt for her. Like me, she lived to repress and control. She found her way to bury her past, and she stuck to it, no matter how unhealthy or draining it was. Whatever it took, it was better than letting the emotions swallow her the way they were doing now.
“Look at me,” I said, lifting her chin to face me. I was on the floor with her now, and I had no idea what I was about to say. But instead of measuring my every word carefully, I for once let them come out as they pleased. “Look at me, Sara. You see me. You know I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, and all I want is to know that I can fix the way you feel. I can’t stand it when you’re unhappy, and I’m going to have you smiling by the end of this night, I promise you that. I just need you to talk to me first, Sara. Please.”
She shook her head and cried, but she let me kiss her, and though it took another few minutes, she brought her knees to her chest and forced herself to breathe. Another minute of silence, and she finally started leading in.
“The scar I have… you know what I’m talking about.”
“The one Turner mentioned the night at the pool,” I nodded.
