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“About time you took a load off.”
“I’m only sitting because I’m tired of standing.”
That was bullshit. I could tell he was slowly loosening up and open to talking more. It had to be my teasing that was breaking through his crusty exterior. “You don’t have to sit in here with me.”
“If I don’t watch you, I wouldn’t put it past you to try on some of my clothes.”
“You’re bigger than me.”
“Not by much.”
I studied his profile. He had his head turned away from me and was petting Timber’s hind leg since it was closest to him.
“You like dogs.”
“I’ve never owned one.”
Ah yes, he was finally engaging in small talk. I needed to keep it going. “What made you pick Eagle’s Landing?”
“This cabin. The amount of land. The view. And the unbeatable price.”
“A perfect spot to hide.”
He turned his head and we locked gazes. “Apparently not.”
I grinned. “Some people are more determined than others.”
“No shit.” He blew out a soft breath. “Are you still feeling dizzy?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me? I offered to leave earlier. You’re the one who insisted I stay.”
“You hit your head pretty hard.”
“I must have been pushed pretty hard.”
“I apologized.”
My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “But did you?”
His brow furrowed. “Didn’t I?”
“I’ll waive your apology if you answer one question.”
“Just one?”
“It’s a pretty big one.”
Immediately I could see him starting to tense up and shut down, so I hurried to ask it. “When’s the last time you’ve had any,” sex, “kind of,” sex, “intimate contact?” Sex?
“That’s not your business.”
“You’re right, it’s not. But I’m making it my business.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I am. So, answer or I want you on your knees begging me for my forgiveness.” I tried to keep a straight face and not grin since I would never ask him to do that.
Hold on. Did he actually roll his eyes at me? That was a good sign. I was starting to see some human tendencies.
When I nudged him with my elbow to encourage him to answer, he shifted farther away, but twisted slightly toward me, instead. He was no longer petting Timber, his hand was now pressed to the bed very close to my calf.
I imagined what it would be like if he curled his fingers around it and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Then slid up…
Stay on track, Rett. “My question was about intimacy. I’m still waiting for the answer.”
“What’s it to you?”
I pointed to the floor and with a deeper voice than normal ordered, “Knees or answer.”
He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, mussing it up even worse than it already was. I don’t remember it being like that before “the kiss” so it was most likely from when he panicked, thinking he hurt me badly. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
“Not since...” He pressed his lips together, giving me my answer.
“So, no one since your husband.”
Chase shook his head and stared across the room.
Holy hell, that was over two years ago. “How about this… When’s the last time anyone has touched you?”
“I just said over two years ago.” The irritation in his tone was clear and the fingers of the hand he had near my leg curled into the bedding hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
“Not in a sexual way,” I clarified, “I meant simple physical contact.”
It took him too long to answer. To me that was telling. Painful, too, but not as much as it was when he answered, “When my family hugged me at his funeral.”
Again, over two years ago. “You’ve had no physical contact since then?”
“No, and I don’t want it, either.” He unclenched his hand from the comforter and began to pick at a loose thread.
The silence stretched between us.
Was he afraid he would feel something and would no longer allow himself to be numb? Why did he want to keep himself so closed off from everyone and everything?
That wasn’t healthy.
“Being a monk isn’t good for the prostate. Or your mental health.”
Chase’s brow dropped low. “Are you still trying to be funny? If so, once again you’re failing.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny and I’m not joking about this.”
More silence.
I wanted to keep him talking. I was creating fine cracks in his armor, I just needed to keep picking at them, making them wider so I could slip through.
I had this crazy need to prove to him what he was doing to himself—living in a bubble and trying to avoid the rest of the world—wasn’t healthy.
“It’s been a while for me, too,” I confessed, hoping if I gave him something personal about myself, he’d be more willing to open up.
Chase’s dark and disturbing eyes pinned me in place. “What?”
Being the only gay man in a straight town meant I had no friends or buddies to discuss anything to do with dating or sex. “You know, sex. Touch. Losing myself in someone else. The intimacy. Shared pleasure. The shared whispers. Shared dreams and secrets. All of it. I miss it.”
