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“He did hurt me,” she whispered, angling her face away. “He turned on me, when I ended it. He was so angry. So—,” she shook her head, the words lodged in her throat now. “So cutting. He’d become the only friend I had, he’d isolated me so effectively, so that there was no one I could turn to. He thought dependence would equate to blind loyalty, but he was wrong.” She swallowed painfully. “He tried to have me thrown out of our training squad, to have our coach leave me. He bullied me, he berated me, he criticized me to the point I became convinced I was useless and pathetic. He called me fat, he mocked me. I lost all my confidence after that. It didn’t matter how well I did in competitions, I heard his voice in my head, and his anger and hatred, and for a time, I wanted to run away from it all.”
“Does he still skate?”
“Not with us.”
“Your coach chose you?”
The colour drained from her face a little. “He did.” Silence sparked between them, and though he didn’t push her, she found herself admitting something she’d held close to her chest for a very long time. “One afternoon, about a week after we’d broken up, he tried—he wanted—,”
Leonidas was very, very still, but his eyes spoke volumes. “He raped you?”
“He grew insistent,” she said softly, the words barely audible. “He was stronger than me, though not built as you are, much leaner and slimmer, but big enough to have the advantage. If our coach hadn’t come back into the locker room at that point, I can’t say what would have happened.”
“Can’t you?”
She shuddered. He was right. She knew exactly how it would have ended.
“After that, he was thrown out of the team. There’s zero tolerance for any kind of assault. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“But you’ve thought of him.”
Her gaze lifted to his face.
“You’ve let him haunt you, even though he’s a jerk in your past.”
“Sometimes,” she shrugged.
Leonidas crossed the room and crouched at her feet. “You have to let him go. The past has a way of making us victims, and you deserve better than that.”
“Sometimes, reflecting on the past simply makes you strong.” She contradicted with certainty. “After Jackson, I swore I’d do a better job of protecting myself. No more relationships. No more messing around. I wasn’t going to repeat that mistake again.”
“And so you haven’t.”
“No,” she said quietly. “After Jackson, there’s been no one else.”
“Until now.”
Mila’s lips tugged to one side. “And you don’t count.”
“No?”
“You’re a knight in shining armour, not a boyfriend. There’s an important difference.”
“Ah. A knight in shining armour that you’re sleeping with?”
Her heart kicked up a notch at his phrasing, which made it sound as though he intended what they’d just done to become far more regular. He wasn’t acting as though it were a one off, as though he wanted to backpedal immediately. Nonetheless, she felt the self-preservation skills she’d developed years ago firm inside of her.
“But my independence has been hard-fought, Leonidas, and I’m not willing to let it go. While I appreciate your help, and I really do, I need to have autonomy. I need to be in control of my own life.”
His nostrils flared as he stared at her, and she could see his brain cogs turnings. “There’s another difference between Jackson and me. I don’t want to enslave you. I want you to stay here, so that I can keep you safe, and only for as long as necessary. That desire doesn’t stem from this,” he gestured from his chest towards her and she became aware of her still-naked form, belatedly reaching for her shirt that had been hastily discarded. He moved faster though, lifting it from her fingertips just as she reached it and coming to stand before her.
“Arms up.”
She blinked at him then did as he said, so he could slide the fabric down her torso, his hands brushing her sides, sending little shockwaves of awareness through her, one by one, until they grew in intensity and she had to bite back a soft moan.
When she opened her eyes, he was crouching in front of her.
“He wanted to make you his supplicant. I don’t.”
