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“Not everything.”
He reaches his hand out and touches my chin lightly with his fingers. I look up at him from his soft touch. He uses his thumb to wipe away the tear that falls.
Oh God, touching me is torture…
“I don’t want you to ever be afraid, Mia. Do you understand? That isn’t how a woman should ever feel.”
“I’m trying,” I whisper. “This is a lot.”
I continue to look at him, trying not to lose it.
The close proximity. The heat between us…Now I know he feels it.
“Mia, if I can do something to make you forget or feel better, you must let me know.”
I blink several times rapidly, like that is going to help me. I know how he can help me, although I don’t have the guts to ask him to my bed.
It all becomes too much when I look at him, and I can’t stop the tears from falling.
I’m so fucked up.
I didn’t want this to happen. I start to turn and quickly leave, except he gently holds me by the elbow, pulling me between his legs.
“Don’t go,” he says, his hand wrapped around my wrist, the other touching my hip. “Please, Mia.”
It fucking burns…
“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“It’s okay. This is heavy shit. I wouldn’t expect anyone to be okay with any of this.”
“I’m okay.”
“I don’t like to see you upset,little bird. I hate it.”
I take in his words, realizing that he does care. That it’s not all in my head.
He doesn’t remove his hands from my body.
“You know I have a suggestion as to what could make me feel better,” I say to him finally.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile, and he waits for me to tell him.
“We could hug it out.” That’s as brave as I can be right now.
He laughs then, and it’s a sweet, delicious sound in the silence of the kitchen with everyone else asleep. “Hug it out?”
“Why not?” I say. Any excuse to feel his body close to mine. I’m clutching at straws now.
For some reason, I get the distinct impression that he wants so much more.
“So?” I say.
He smiles and reaches forward, pulling me into his embrace before I can even blink. His solid arms wrapping around me feel like a welcoming, warm blanket, taking the chill from my entire being. “Don’t be sad,” he says close to my ear. “Or I may be forced to take matters into my own hands.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. Being this close to a man I hardly know shouldn't feel so familiar to me. But I trust him. It makes no sense, but I do.
“Technically, you’re my boss,” I whisper. “So I’m interested to know what taking matters into your own hands looks like.”
