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Or, if it feels right, we can do this for a while.
There’s no one else I trust with this hunger of mine. I could never imagine telling this to a random, casual date, let alone asking one of them to humor me. Sure, as I once told Herc, plenty of strangers out there are into this, but that’s just the problem. I don’t know them.
I don’t care to know anyone else but Herc.
This is about him and me. I only share this with him.
Mentally I count down from ten, preparing for what comes next.
TEN
Herc
I see her there at the edge of the woods. Waiting. Watching.
It’s not too late to turn back before we get hurt. Before I hurt her.
That voice in my head reminds me of how much I like this game. How much I like taking a risk with her.
I’ve spent our time apart beating myself up for enjoying this. No matter how much she tried to reassure me, I hated myself for what I did. I felt guilty for enjoying the chase, and everything that comes after that.
This is about what she wants, yet everything she wants goes against my instinct to protect her.
So, it’s long past time to have a meeting with myself.
Can’t my urge to take care of her extend to this?
She tried to tell me that taking care of her is not in conflict with exploring our unconventional side.
Meghan unlocked things in me that nobody else could, to the point that other instincts took over. Our games helped me process all the pain and all the rage.
And what have I been doing since then? Processing? No. Numbing the pain, anger, and longing with Jim Beam and whatever else is available. How is that better?
By denying her, I’m also doing a disservice to myself. I need her, and I’m the only one who can give her what she needs.
I have to decide here and now if this is what I want, without attaching good or bad labels to anything. I take what she wants to give me, or I walk away for good.
ELEVEN
Meghan
Anxiousness and giddiness ripple through my stomach, and up and down my spine.
Three…two…one.
Turning, I’m off like a shot, my feet crashing through the woods into the darkness. Behind me, the rickety wooden stairs creak, and the earth vibrates with the impact of that large man’s feet hitting the ground.
The sound of Herc’s feet racing to catch up with me releases a surge of adrenaline, and I climb faster. Whatever trails might be nearby are blanketed by leaves and pine needles. I have to make this about scurrying laterally and hiding rather than climbing deeper into the woods; I’m not built for uphill races. Herc’s far more athletic, and he knows this. Behind me, I hear him moving with grace and speed. At one time, Herc made me weak when I would watch him run on the college football field. Now, I’m weak from a year of feeling completely hollowed out.
My feet stumble and snap branches, tearing through the underbrush. The chase is not going to last long. Both joy and fear burn in my throat. I stifle the screams and laughter as I feel him catching up to me.
Does it matter that I don’t know where I’m going? That I’m just smashing my way through the woods in the dark? I could very well break my nose on a tree branch or run headlong into a stump and end up covered in splinters.
Maybe this will hurt, and maybe it won’t. The danger and the unknown…that’s the entire point.
Herc tackles me with a feral snarl of victory. I yelp as the two of us tumble to the earth, all scrambling arms and legs and breathless grunts. We roll and slide on the steep forest floor until the underbrush slows our descent, and we come to rest, finally, against the base of a live oak.
There’s a rush of leaves as my legs flail and my arms shove against his weight. I grunt in feigned frustration when Herc’s big hand clamps around both of my wrists and pins me to the ground, his thighs bracketing my legs.
