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I wasn’t off to a great start when I had to drag myself from my bed. Nate’s head was buried in my neck, his warm body clinging to mine. The idea of having to detach myself from him was cry worthy.
He was so caring last night. No, heisso caring. Settling into bed with him after he washed and brushed my hair for me was the most calming experience of my life. In that moment, it was easy for us to talk about everything that’s happened.
“I can’t believe you think I could ever reject you, Anastasia,” he said in shock. “You have no idea, do you? The lengths I’d go to if you’d let me. What I’d do to make you happy.”
My heart did a weird thing I’ve only read about. A mix between a thud and a flutter, the kind that made me question whether it would continue to function properly.
Being with Nate brings an overwhelming sense of safety, like whatever problem I throw at him, he’d cope with. In a world where I feel like I could be swept away by the waves at any moment, he anchors me. I value that, value him.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” I mumbled into his chest, where my head was resting.
“I deserved it,” he admitted, kissing the crown of my head. “I could have done more. I could have called you before Aaron’s parents did and explained. I could’ve not admitted to something I didn’t do.” He laughed. “I’m sorry you had to spend one second thinking I would do something to hurt your dreams.”
“I like you, Nathan,” I said, peering up at his face. “And it hurts me on multiple different levels that I’m now a person who likes a hockey player. But I do. It’s so hard because Aaron is so convinced it was you, but I’m trusting my gut.”
“I like you too. The last two weeks have sucked so bad.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of Aaron banging around our apartment, presumably unhappy Nate was round.
Aaron’s hurting, too, both physically and mentally, but he hasn’t found a healthy way to communicate it with me. He dropped me and it’s making him fucking hate himself. Apologizing more times than I can count, he’s obsessing over one little mistake that wasn’t his fault, and I can’t get him to snap out of it.
I don’t blame him; it was an accident neither of us saw coming. Other than a few marks, I’m safe. I’ve told him how grateful I am that he caught me, but it’s not enough for him.
I’m scared of how that will affect us when he’s back since the idea of being picked up right now freaking terrifies me. Even in the shower with Nathan, when he started to lift me to get closer to his head, for a moment, my heart wanted to stop.
I’m surprised I didn’t crush him; my legs were so tight around him that he probably has an indent. He didn’t seem to care. I think he was concentrating on not accidentally poking me with his penis.
Worrying about Aaron is something I’m used to, but you can only properly help someone who tells you what’s wrong with them.
The banging of doors—undoubtedly Aaron again—woke me up this morning, and I opted to lie awake, listening to Nate’s breathing instead of going back to sleep.
“I can hear the cogs in your brain turning. Tell me, what could you be thinking about this early in the morning?” He yawned, kissing my shoulder affectionately.
By that point, I’d already declared a cry-free week, so I didn’t want to launch into my Aaron issue.
“I’m trying to decide whether you put a hockey stick in bed between us or if you’re really happy to be waking up beside me.”
He rubbed himself against my ass, groaning next to the shell of my hair. He’s a vocal guy and it doessomethingto me. It’s like he flicks a switch somewhere and suddenly it’s Niagara Falls between my legs. “If I say it’s a hockey stick, will you play with it?”
“Oh myGod. You are so cringe. I hate hockey, would you believe?”
“I could make you fall in love with hockey, Anastasia,” he whispered, sending goose bumps across my entire body. “With the right educational tools, of course, and the appropriate amount of practice.”
I don’t think he was talking about his dick.
Trailing a line of kisses down my neck, his hand traveled below the band of my panties, lightly brushing his finger across the material between my thighs.
I wanted to pant like a dog. Embarrassing but totally justified. In the back of my head, I knew I needed to get out of bed and not roll around it with him. “I’m a very hands-on learner…but I’m afraid we don’t have the time to practice,Captain.”
“Ohfuck.” His hand tilted my head back, immediately capturing my mouth with his. “Call me Captain again.”
Breaking away from him, my eyes narrowed. “I think that might be something we need to explore.”
“I’m one hundred percent for exploring it.”
“I mean in a psychological way.”
He grinned. “Kinky. I like it.”
