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"How are you feeling this morning?" he asks in that same edged-with-sex voice.
"Amazing."
"No cramps?" He looks between my eyes.
I shake my head.
"And the blood flow. Are you—"
"Jesus, Rick, can we stop talking about my period?"
He frowns. "Why? It’s nothing to be ashamed of."
"It’s not, but it’s also not something I want to talk about with my fiancê first thing in the morning the night after we—ah—" I clamp my lips together.
"After we? You mean, after I, don’t you?" The left side of his mouth twitches. Bastard’s having a good ol’ laugh at my expense.
"Fine, fine. After you massaged away my cramps, then made me come and forget all about the invasion of the red tide."
He blinks. "Invasion of the red tide?"
"Or you can call it Shark Week."
His lips twitch. "That one, I like."
"Of course, you would. " I roll my eyes.
He cups my cheek. "I’m glad you’re feeling better, Goldie, and you should know, a little period blood wouldn’t have stopped me, except you were in pain and I didn’t want to add to your discomfort.
The tenderness in his eyes throws me. Sure, he showed me last night how in tune with my needs he is. In a way, no one ever has been before. Not my ex, and not my family. Yeah, I avoid thinking about my family, unless I absolutely have to. But after meeting Grams, I feel the lack of parental figures in my life even more.
That’s what happens when you never knew your dad and you have a junkie mom who loves to take out her frustrations on you by beating you up.
That’s what happens when you grow up in a trailer park and keep walking in on your mom turning tricks to score. That’s what happens when your mother’s boyfriends start eyeing you up when you hit puberty. Good thing I managed to leave home before any of them touched me. It’s a tired story; one you must have heard before. But when you’re in it, it scars you forever, and I’m living proof of it.
I'll save you the time of psychoanalyzing me. It’s the reason why I started starving myself, which was easy because there was never anything to eat at home. But even later, once I started earning and could provide for myself, I felt guilty about eating. As a result, I now have an unhealthy relationship with food. It’s why I make long to-do lists, so I can take control of my life. If I get through my list, everything will be okay. If I cross things off, I’ve achieved something. Not that my to-do lists ever get shorter.
I don’t need a shrink to tell me that every time I cross something off the list I get a burst of happy hormones in my system, which make me feel good. Like how you feel when you post on social media, and someone likes your update.
Which is why I also know I should see a shrink about my habit of not wanting to keep food down after I’ve eaten. I thought I had it under control, too, until Dennis’ betrayal unraveled things and I felt myself slipping back. Yeah, it shows me how delicate this balance is. Something doesn’t go according to plan, and I slip back into old habits. Not that it's a habit. It was a condition, I know, I know. But I had it under control… Until I didn’t.
It’s why I can’t afford to get involved with anyone else. It’s why I’m pretending I don't have feelings for Rick. It’s the only thing that will keep Rick from getting involved with me for real. Though, after last night, I’m not sure anymore. Maybe he is catching feelings for me? Maybe I’ve begun to invest emotionally in him, too. Gosh, this entire situation is another slippery slope, and I can’t afford to slip up. "Rick, don’t."
40
Gio
I step back, and he lowers his hand to his side.
"Don’t what?" he murmurs.
"Don’t go all soft on me now."
His brow knits. "If you mean taking care of you last night—"
"That’s exactly what I mean." I run my hands down my skirt. Yeah, I managed to shower and change into my work clothes before I came down. It wasn’t easy to ignore the man-chest of the alphahole sprawled on the bed, but I managed to keep my gaze averted as I dressed.
Okay, I lie, I snuck quick peeks. He threw off the sheet while I was in the shower, and while he was still fully dressed, his T-shirt clung to every ridge and valley of his sculpted abs, not to mention the tent at his crotch. An erection from last night compounded by morning wood. As far as I know, he didn’t come. I'm pretty sure he didn’t leave the bed to go off to the bathroom and jerk off. At least the one time I woke up, he was wrapped around me, and I could feel the thickness of his length between my asscheeks. I fell back to sleep before I could do anything about it, either. That’s how relaxed I was after his ministrations. And he didn’t have to do that last night. He didn’t have to be so sweet.
